Saga Duex idly traced a finger along the rim of her glass, the deep crimson liquid catching the dim light stones above.

  The grand dining hall, if it could still be called that, was an expanse of faded decadence. Heavy, moth-eaten drapes clung to their rails, failing to mask the drafts that slithered through the large cracked windows that faced a genuinely breathtaking view.

  Lord Soren Ashbourne, the caretaker of this mountainside estate, would always attempt to weasel a few of her coins to remodel his residence upon each new Round without fail.

  However, aside from the needless attention to this location that such an endeavor would cause, Saga Duex rather enjoyed the decayed and dark ambiance. There was a rather unusual charm to it all. The vintage wine from the estate's cellar was simply the icing.

  Besides, it wasn't like she'd die from inhaling the black mold that filled every crevice and wall of this long-forsaken palace. And it wasn't her problem how others decided to manage their health or the lack of health—Toby and Zuni were both undead, after all.

  The only spot of careful maintenance was the long banquet table, carved from dark Kobar oak, upon which an engraved map of the two continents lay beneath about two dozen scattered figurines.

  Most were meticulously carved by Zuni from golden birch, signifying the individuals identified as golden-eyed and, most but not all, Awakened. A handful, in contrast, were made from blue mahoe, their cool hues marking them as those identified as the Aware. There was also precisely one made of cherry red wood. That piece was designated for Grandov, the Player, and their primary opponent in this Game—one that they had to beat each and every time without fail.

  "This must be the most Awakened there has ever been in our realm's timeline," Lord Tobias rumbled.

  He sat at the head of the table, his skeletal body hunched slightly as he studied the wooden figurines before him. His sharp, mold-darkened nails drummed against the table's surface. With only a little over a week since rising from his grave, his body was still in its early regenerative process.

  Saga leaned back in her chair, letting the silk of her golden-threaded gown drape elegantly over the armrest. Even here, in a place so steeped in decay, she did not waver from her preference for brilliance.

  Only the two of them occupied the room today, updating the map of everyone's movements. In truth, her physical presence wasn't necessary—Saga could have sent her reports by letter, as Zuni did.

  But she had been requested to appear in person. And when they requested something, refusal was not an option.

  Lifting her wine glass, she took a slow sip, her gaze drifting toward the dark, empty corner of the room.

  And yet, the one who had summoned me is nowhere to be seen.

  "Even during my time," Tobias continued speaking, shifting one of the golden birch figurines forward, based on the report that Zuni had provided him, "apart from you, I hadn't come across a single other Awakened."

  "Indeed, it is an unprecedented time," she agreed smoothly. "Whenever a Game occurred, old-timers like myself have always remained Awake. But for the young mortal golden-eyed? Perhaps one or two would awaken per cycle. At most, I was aware of five in a single Game. But never more than that."

  "With as many Rounds as this particular Game is stretching out, more have had a chance to awaken than ever before," Lord Tobias noted.

  His sunken eyes glanced at a handful of small figurines on the sidelines—the ones that had been identified as golden-eyed but not yet Awakened.

  Saga caught on to his concern but decided not to bother commenting on the matter, tipping her glass of wine toward her mouth instead.

  "That is true," she admitted after taking a sip and lowering her glass. "But it's also because of the boom in the number of golden-eyed children born. The previous Game—the one that seems eons ago now, which you had not even experienced—brought in a record number of Players who decided to integrate into our realm's folds."

  Or, at the very least, inject our world with a bounty of golden-eyed individuals.

  While an unprecedented number of Players had chosen to remain in this realm after the previous Game, this was far from the norm. Typically, Players returned to wherever they had come from, indifferent to the ties they had forged—even if they left children behind. Saga Duex was a prime example of this indifference. Her father had wooed her mother, only to vanish before she ever took her first breath.

  Lord Tobias barked out a laugh, hoarse like an old war drum. "Just what did all those Players find intriguing about this shit hole of a decaying realm? I'll never understand why they'd give up their power and immortality just to die off here."

  Saga mirrored his smile, but inwardly, her thoughts coiled tight.

  It was no laughing matter.

  What, indeed, had lured those mighty Players away from their own realms? Had they truly grown weary of eternity, longing to taste mortality once more?

  Her gaze dropped to the deep red wine in her glass, where her reflection rippled against the dark surface. Though she hadn't lived as long as the Players, she was considered an Ancient in this world.

  And yet, I am far from being tired of living. Quite the opposite.

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  Her reflection stared back at her—untarnished by time, unmarred by age, as brilliant as the day she devoured the feast of phoenix eggs many centuries ago.

  Had those Players abandoned their power willingly, or had something forced their hand?

  She had lived long enough to witness the returns of the same Players—some openly, unchanged by time, while others slithered back in borrowed flesh, wearing the faces of this realm's natives. Or NPCs, as they so disdainfully called them.

  Her golden gaze flicked back to the figurines on the table and the enormous map of the two continents underneath.

  Depending on the Summoning, the Game conditions under which Players arrived differed drastically. As were their range in morality and bloodthirst. Some arrived with kindness in their hearts, treating this realm's people with care. But that was a rarity. Far more were ruthless, viewing the land and its inhabitants as nothing more than resources to exploit, playthings to break, or obstacles to crush. There were criminals in this world—murderers, slavers, and warlords—who, in comparison to some of these summoned beings, almost seemed like saints.

  She exhaled, tilting her head back slightly to stare at the light stone chandelier overhead, its gilded arms long tarnished.

  "We're lucky our Game's opposing Player is the good kind," she murmured. "And has been willing to entertain us for so long."

  Of all the Players she'd seen wreck havoc upon her realm, the one playing Grandov was genuinely kind. She even somewhat pitied him. Especially now.

  "Hopefully, for not that much longer," Toby muttered.

  He jabbed one skeletal finger at a particularly small figurine.

  "This one is six. Six!" His voice rose slightly, edged with frustration. "Imagine her confusion if she awakens and has to undergo these damn loops."

  Saga smirked at his outburst, though her gaze lingered on the figurine he pointed to. Tobias was hardly known for his kindness—history had immortalized him as a ruthless emperor, a man who had once allowed one of his own captured children to die rather than let them become a pawn in enemy hands. And yet, here he was, scowling over the fate of a child he had never met.

  "Careful, Toby," she chided, her voice light as a feather though not without edge. "Talk like that might lead some to believe that, under the right conditions, you'd betray the Kobar Empire."

  His golden eyes snapped toward her, burning with irritation. "Don't get it twisted," he growled.

  Saga laughed, a bright, chime-like sound that only deepened his scowl.

  "Relax, old friend," she told him. "I understand your concern. I was merely offering advice, one old acquaintance to another."

  Her golden gaze flicked toward the room's far end—an empty seat in the shadows—a silent nod toward who else might misconstrue his words.

  "If we're handing out advice as one old acquaintance to another," Tobias said, voice lowering to a simmering growl, "perhaps you should be more prudent in your intelligence gathering. Or else you might be the one suspected of ulterior motives."

  Saga's eyes slanted at the veiled accusation. She did not care for his tone.

  "What exactly do you mean by that?" she asked with a calm smile.

  Tobias tapped the yellow figurine positioned in Laupia.

  "Your intelligence on Rana Sol was lacking. Surely, Zuni was a fool for underestimating her father, but you should have warned him properly. Had you done so, he wouldn't have created this unnecessary mess."

  However, rather than get defensive, Saga let out a light chuckle.

  "I hardly see that miscalculation worth mentioning." Her voice chimed. "Certainly, Ra Sol is a powerful mage, but his existence is negligible at best concerning our plans. That man has little allegiance to Adovoria and has never realized another Game is underfoot—he can't even see his own daughter for what she is. He is blinded by his own perceived greatness, just like every other ex-Player. That is why we don't even bother tracking them, isn't it?"

  She was correct. The table was filled with the Awakened and Aware, but not a single one of the pieces was an ex-Player.

  Tobias didn't refute anything she said. However, he was not done.

  "Luca Frey is still off the map?" He tapped another figurine, its base still stationed in Ascot—the last known location of the so-called infamous fool. "Are we seriously meant to believe that this idiot not only figured out he was being monitored but also how your power works and how to circumvent it?"

  Tobias leaned back, fingers steepled, his sharp gaze cutting into her. "…Unless, of course, Luca Frey was never an idiot in the first place. Which would mean that, yet again, you've failed to provide sufficient insight. Either due to incompetence… or something more intentional."

  "Hmmm." Saga exhaled through her nose, lips pursed.

  The bit with Ra Sol genuinely was an oversight, albeit not an unwelcome one. She had found that whole ordeal overwhelmingly entertaining.

  Luca Frey, however… that was something else entirely.

  Saga had a deeper insight into his character than anyone else on this side of the aisle, yet his successfully averting her detection was something she had not expected.

  I knew he wasn't the idiot he made himself out to be. But I didn't expect this from him either. Even if he is the newly designated Player.

  "And, of course, there's this," Tobias continued speaking, moving one skeletal finger across the table.

  "There's more?" Saga chuckled.

  Her smile withered away as Tobias flicked the lone red piece over.

  "Perhaps Her Eminence was right," Tobias mused, his voice rustling like the rasp of old parchment. "Perhaps the Game has changed, and there is another Player."

  Saga's golden eyes sharpened as she met Tobia's gaze.

  "Zuni is testing out that theory as we're speaking now," Lord Tobias announced.

  That was news to her.

  Closing her eyes, she reached out—not physically, but through the countless Duex coins scattered throughout the realm. Within moments, she sensed both Grandov and Zuni. They were close to one another. What Tobias suggested was unlikely to be a lie.

  "He's going to attempt to kill Grandov?" she asked, opening her eyes and allowing a smile to form on her lips, albeit unnaturally. "He's a seasoned Player. He won't go down that easily."

  "Perhaps," Lord Tobias shrugged his shoulders. "But we know more about him than he knows of us. And unlike with Ra Sol, Zuni won't make the mistake of underestimating his opponent. He will kill him. One way or another."

  His golden eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he leaned forward, tapping a finger against the fallen red figurine on the map. "And when Grandov dies, we'll know. If he still holds his title as a Player, or if the rules have changed." A rare grin stretched across his gaunt and skeletal face. "Until then, Her Eminence has ordered that you remain here. No exceptions."

  Saga felt a rare shiver go down her spine.

  The Game's fabric was fraying—threatening to unravel before her very eyes. And she, bound by the expectations placed upon her, could do nothing to stop it. Any action, any misstep, could be twisted as disloyalty, resulting in pulling at the threads herself.

  Her eyes closed, and her gaze flickered somewhere distant, catching whiffs of new insights.

  "Not even if the Duex minting press is being intruded upon?" she asked innocently.

  Tobias ignored the question. Instead, he reached for a small brass bell and rang it once. The sound echoed in the dimly lit chamber. "My great-great-great-great-grandson will ensure your wine glass remains full with whatever vintage you desire."

  "Is that so?" Saga reclined in her chair, her golden-threaded gown pooling around her. Then, with a bright, carefree smile that concealed any inkling of worry, she added, "I do have a preference for wine produced during the Flinx era."

  At least now I know where Luca Frey is.

  Whether it had been a slip-up or intentional, the information had been given.

  Luca was back in Genise.

  And perhaps, just perhaps, he might surprise me yet again.

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