The Prophecy of the Kings

Chapter 6: The Death of the Rebene

As the morning sun shone through the tall, grimy windows of Venice's office, Jörg, her faithful confidant, spoke up. "M'lady," he began with a tone of assurance in his voice, "all appears to be progressing as intended."

Seated behind her grand mahogany desk, Venice sipped her morning Irish Breakfast tea. Its robust and intense flavors exploded in her mouth, mingling with the slight hint of maltiness that she relished for a moment before placing her cup back on its saucer.

A tense silence filled the room as Jörg cleared his throat and spoke in a low, apprehensive voice. "However," he continued, causing Venice to look up at him with a piercing gaze that made him tremble with anxiety. He knew full well how she could react if things did not go according to plan.

"What is it?" Venice demanded, her voice steely and resolute. She was aware that Jörg would not have raised the issue if it were not a matter of grave concern.

Jörg hesitated for a moment before finally confessing, "Our plan involves you, my lady." His voice trailed off as he braced himself for her response.

Venice's eyes narrowed as she fixed her unwavering gaze on Jörg. She had no patience for half-truths or equivocation. "And?" she pressed, her voice sharp as a razor. The tension in the room grew thicker as she awaited Jörg's response.

"We shall employ you as bait, my lady. 'Tis our intent that you shalt entice Lyra, as if you are under duress to work with us. Once Lyra is drawn in, we shall take care of her," Jörg explained, his voice low and conspiratorial.

Venice fixed her gaze on Jörg and a sly smile crept onto her lips. "I doth fancy this plan, but we must ensure that the blame for the Rebene's demise falls upon Lyra. 'Twill be necessary to make her vanish, only to return to the village and face the royal family and Kohana Council's judgment. This way, our scheme shall not arouse suspicion."

Jörg's lips parted, revealing a hint of surprise and admiration as he gazed at Venice. "Your intellect and cunning never fail to astound me, M'lady," he said, a touch of admiration coloring his words.

Venice's eyes sparkled with amusement at Jörg's compliment. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Jörg," she replied, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Jörg's expression became serious again as he continued, "As you wish, M'lady. We can make it seem like Lyra was responsible for the Rebene's demise. We shall set the trap and wait for her to fall into it."

Venice leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. "Good. We must make sure our motives remain hidden, even from those closest to us. This is a delicate matter, and we cannot afford any missteps."

Jörg nodded once more, his eyes shining with determination. "We will not fail you, M'lady."

Venice smiled, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "I have no doubt that we shall emerge victorious. Let us begin." 

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As the night grew darker with rain and thunder, the Luminarian men made their way to the Rebene's house. They were dressed in black, like ninjas, and moved quietly through the shadows. They knew that the Rebene was a powerful sorcerer, but he was getting too old and weak to cast magic against them.

The Rebene was sitting in his green velvet chair, stroking his long white beard, while reading his recent council documents and proceedings. Suddenly, the Rebene heard a noise from inside his house; he got up from his chair and set the documents on the small table on the right side of him. he went outside to check out the noise, but no one was outside; it is raining at night with thunder. Nobody shouldn't be walking around this time of day, he thought.  The he  started calling out, "Hello?! Anybody out there?!" Nobody answered, and he decided that a cat was making strange noises as he saw a black cat running across different houses. Unbeknownst to him, the four Luminarian men snuck into his house through the back door unnoticed; by the time Rebene got back inside his house he sat by the fireplace reading his council cases, and he feels an unwanted presence, but decides to ignore that feeling.