Sanctuary: Safe Haven

Before the tension in the room could escalate any further, another figure stepped into the dining hall. It was Varya, her presence commanding attention as she strode in with calm confidence.

"Welcome back, Guildmaster." Varya offered a graceful curtsy to Kargan, who still had his weapon drawn. Her voice, while respectful, carried a weight that momentarily softened the tension in the air. "It must have been a difficult journey. Welcome home."

Kargan blinked, momentarily surprised to see Varya. Relief washed over him as she spoke. Finally, someone who could explain the strange events that had transpired in his absence.

"Varya..." Kargan muttered, lowering his weapon, though his frustration still simmered beneath the surface. "What is going on here? What happened to our clan? Why was the gate closed?"

Varya nodded, understanding the urgency of his questions. "Much has changed during your absence, Guildmaster," she began, glancing at the gathered troops, who also wore expressions of confusion. "Let me explain briefly. Several days ago, I encountered a man named Canna Yakane in the forest. He watched one of my sparring sessions with Sera, and our meeting... escalated.

This led to a series of events, starting with an incident at the Adventurer's Guild, where Canna—" she paused, a small smirk creeping onto her lips, "—kicked Madam Sarella into a wall for disrespecting him."

Kargan raised an eyebrow at that, while his troops exchanged glances. It seemed absurd that someone would dare assault one of their own, but Varya continued unfazed.

"I challenged Canna to a duel afterward. It was an intense battle, but things took a turn when Saint Dravos appeared, drawn to the commotion. Canna and the Saint engaged in battle shortly after, and..." Varya hesitated, glancing toward Dravos who was still eating calmly at the table, "It was then that Vorgrim, Canna's second-in-command, entered the fray.

The fight continued for hours, until..." she took a deep breath, "...the Saint decided it was time to change the way things were being run around here."

Kargan's eyes widened in disbelief as he processed everything. Lira, standing beside him, wore a look of utter shock. The fact that their father had been fighting for days, without so much as contacting them, was difficult to believe.

"What exactly is going on?" Kargan asked, his voice now laced with frustration. "Father, why would you close the gates to the clan and keep us in the dark?"

Dravos finally looked up from his meal, his expression calm but serious. "It came to my attention that there were some... rats among us. Those who flaunt our clan name without the strength to back it up." His eyes narrowed, his voice growing sharper. "I kicked them out. The ones who deserve to be part of this clan are here, training.

I don't want to see our warriors running around like idiots anymore. We are Clan Varran—warriors, not order-takers." His gaze shifted back to Kargan, who was still processing his words. "And somewhere along the way, you forgot that, son."

Kargan looked as if he had been slapped. His father's words hit him like a ton of bricks. The troop members behind him shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to react. Lira's eyes darted between Kargan and Dravos, her confusion deepening with every word.

Suddenly, the sound of Varya's footsteps filled the silence as she approached Canna, who was still fast asleep at the table. Kargan instinctively moved to warn her, his voice sharp, "Varya, don't—!"

But to his shock, Varya ignored him completely, walking directly toward the slumbering Canna. The confusion rippled through the room as even Nyx, the massive shadow bear, and Mortem, the undead king, made way for her. The scene was surreal, and Kargan could hardly believe his eyes.

Dravos chuckled, breaking the stunned silence. "I assigned Varya to Canna," he said with an amused grin. "She's the only one, besides me, who has permission from Canna's subordinates to approach him. Anyone else would end up dead—either from a paw to the face or worse, a bone spear through the heart."

As if to drive home his point, Dravos let out a hearty laugh while chewing another piece of meat, as though everything he had just said was completely normal.

Varya, now beside Canna, gently tapped his shoulder. "Canna," she said softly, "the guildmaster and vice guildmaster are here. You should introduce yourself."

Canna let out a loud, audible yawn, stretching his arms lazily as he blinked awake. "Thanks, Varya," he said, his voice groggy. "Where's the old man?"

At the mention of "old man," Kargan, Lira, and the entire entourage froze, their eyes wide with shock. Another surprise in an already unbelievable day.

Varya pointed behind Canna. "He's at the table behind you."

Canna glanced over his shoulder, noticing Dravos sitting behind him. With a quick stretch, Canna jumped up, ruffled Nyx's fur, gave Mortem a casual wave, and sauntered over to Dravos.

"Old man!" Canna called out, his voice filled with excitement. "I've got something planned. Let's go spar now!"

Dravos smashed the bowl of meat in front of him, the sound echoing through the dining hall. Everyone tensed, thinking for a split second that the Saint was angry. But when they looked at his face, they saw something entirely different.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

He was smiling.

It was a smile that Kargan hadn't seen in years. The smile of a man who had rediscovered his purpose.

Dravos spoke, his voice filled with amusement. "Later. My son and his people have arrived, and I'd like to hear their report first."

Canna shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, alright then," he said, turning back to face the stunned group. "You lot seem pretty strong, huh?" His eyes swept over them briefly before he remembered something. "Oh, Varya!"

Varya, who was still standing nearby, looked up. "Yes, Canna?"

Canna grinned mischievously. "Remember our deal? I'm pretty sure you lost our sparring match, didn't you?"

Varya's face flushed slightly, a small, nervous smile creeping onto her lips as she glanced over at Kargan and Lira. Find your next read at empire

The room fell into silence, the tension hanging thick in the air.