“Your paladin friend, Rayan Vayisa, will do his best to preach Lycaena’s message, and convince the people the Butterfly goddess remains a lingering presence on this island. My daughter, Mari, shall continue revealing herself as the Lioness, a physical incarnation of Endarius. It is a tall task, though I believe the pair are up to it.”

Now the third finger clenched back into the fist.

“But it is this last point we can use to our advantage. Lycaena is dead, and my rebellion currently broken, but the Lythan family lives. As it is our strongest weapon, we must polish it to an absolute shine and ensure its edge sharp enough to pierce right through the heart of the empire’s presence here in Vallessau.”

Thorda withdrew an object from within the folds of his robe and held it for Cyrus to see. It was a wooden mask shaped and painted like a skull and with a thin leather cord tied around its back. The way the bones curled around the eyes, it was almost as if the skull were grinning, and that grin possessed far too many teeth.

“This belonged to my husband, Rhodes, a hero known to the people of Miquo as the Skull-Amid-the-Trees. He refused to engage the imperials on equal terms. He slaughtered their leaders. He ambushed their patrols. With kill after kill, he made everyone loyal to the Everlorn Empire terrified to set foot within the city he called his home. People for thousands of miles heard tales of his exploits, a rare enemy the empire truly feared. He taught me the power one man can wield if he makes himself more than a single foe, but the embodiment of the people’s fury.”

Cyrus picked at the bread on his plate, yet he had no appetite whatsoever.

“What does your husband have to do with me?” he asked.

“I want to train you. No one else but you, every day and every night, until I believe you are ready.”

“Ready for what?”

In answer, Thorda tossed him the skull mask. Cyrus caught it and cradled it in his lap as the other man spoke.

“To wear that new face. To become a heroic killer stalking the streets of Vallessau. You will be a rumor at first, one we will seed with whispers in the right ears in the right places. You’ll fight alongside my chosen elite as their figurehead leader, and receive all the glory for your combined exploits. Together, you will challenge even paragons. With every kill, you will make real the rumors that we have sown. And then our whispers will change. Who might this killer be? What identity does the cloak and skull hide?”

Thorda grinned, and it took years off his face. His excitement was infectious. His confidence was unparalleled.