Night had come around again too soon.

I rested my head against the cool metal of the door. With the candles extinguished in the corridor, the sunset crept in through the open curtains and painted everything a rusty grey; typical for the way my senses perceived colour without my eyes for truth. Through a window, I could make out the iridescent, rubber forms of what I assumed was the Palace’s royal guard. They watched the horizon like hawks; twelve guardsmen loyal to Garah trying to defend their city from a threat that probably didn’t exist anymore, now that Shinsou was gone. I wasn't even sure why they doubled the guard anymore; it may have been royal policy since the war, but his significance today paled so much in comparison to the problems that face present-day Telgradia with the economy that this obsession with Osiris seemed trivial.

My hand ferreted around in my pocket for the piece of paper that his father and my master, Telos Soltair, had given me, but the information written on it was hardly sufficient for anything, really. It was one of many such scraps; encrypted notes passed from spy to spy. They all painted a picture of what Shinsou was doing; movements of the Brotherhood, the company he kept, the places he had tried to invade, the women he had relations with. What was the point of it all? After all, he was on Althanas, and likely never coming back. He wouldn’t know how to get back, anyway, and as long as Telgradia was free of him, why did anyone here care what Shinsou was doing? It just felt like a massive waste of resources. Whilst our men scurried around, feeding off tablescraps of rumours, he moved around like a phantom. The Brotherhood were well organized, well funded and remarkably good at keeping their operations covert, and even as we surrounded ourselves with the best in their respective fields, we realised soon enough that the Brotherhood were better. It was absolutely infuriating the Council of Five.

Me, though? Well, if I had working tear ducts, it would bore me to tears.

I had to keep reminding myself that my concerns or opinion mattered little in the grand scheme of things, and I was just here to do what I had been asked. On that bit of torn, bloodstained paper no larger than a beer coaster was something that the council found important, and my job was to deliver the undecipherable words to Riisa Endymeon of the Council. He wasn’t a stupid man, and clearly felt strongly enough to believe the paper meant something, but I just didn’t get it.

I stepped back and opened the door, feeling the cool air of the council chamber rushing in. As procedure dictated, I locked the door in three places behind me and paced towards what my mind knew was an illustrious fur lined chair at the head of an oblong table, neither looking left nor right. My senses gave me complete awareness of the figures gathered there; there was a man on the corner nearest me fronting all sorts of documentation and maps for Riisa’s perusal, and an aide rounding the corner to present what appeared to be some sort of letter. The magnesium coloured flares at the frayed edges of my senses represented candles in the chamber that had all been lit up. My feet moved over the floor tile cracks, my ears taking in every sound, before Riisa himself walked in from a chamber on the right and seated himself.

I walked up to him, bowed, and handed him the slip. The large, bearded man, who reminded me of a cross between a bear and a wrestler, afforded me a sagely nod and whispered thanks before offering me my own seat at the table.

“You may be wondering why I’ve called this meeting.” The councilor started, gesturing to the five other seats ahead of him. I didn’t wonder at all, because to me the subject matter and direction of conversation were obvious, even to a blind man like me. It would be the usual “update” on Shinsou; perhaps an “astonishing” new breakthrough on his location or a “harrowing” revelation about what he’d done now.

The man on the corner coughed. “Is Telos Soltair not joining us?”

Riisa stopped fidgeting in his chair and shook his head silently. “No. You'll understand why shortly.”

There was a nod from the unknown aide, the subtle message received, his red seersucker suit flashing garishly under his soaking slicker. The other four men followed suite.

Clutching the note I gave him earlier, Riisa pushed it up the table towards the others. The analysts gathered up the parchment and read the words out aloud, flapping his lips abruptly. As one of the men digested the small tidbit, I could see the councilor’s eyes gazing out through the only window in the room. Oppressive clouds had rolled over the town as soon as the sun had touched the horizon, ending the day before its full time had been spent. Now the clouds were beginning to empty their cargo out all over the city, flooding the streets with sudden ponds and streams that swelled and splashed up the pants of the few guards on the streets.

"You have to be joking?" The aide from the corner eventually said, turning to the bald man beside him and passing on the note. "I hope that Telos is not serious about this."

My ears pricked up. Peering up at the analyst through the darkness, I could see him frown and shake his head.

"That’s right." Riisa said, unusually softly, “The Royal Family is going to issue a pardon for Shinsou Vaan Osiris, and make him an offer to come back.”

Now that, I wasn’t expecting.