Chapter 94: A Pact Without Chains
The guards at the Gladewatch Pavilion didn't speak when Isaac arrived.
They simply bowed, recognized the faint glow of Sylvalen's audience token in his hand, and opened the gate without question.
Beyond it lay a garden untouched by time—moonstone tiles beneath silverleaf trees, white lanterns suspended from invisible threads, and silence so pure it felt sacred.
Isaac walked the winding path alone.
The further he stepped from the noise of Velkarth, the more the city seemed like another world entirely. Here, the air was cooler. Cleaner. The magic ran deeper, woven into every branch and ripple of light.
He found her where he expected: in a high atrium wrapped in vines and twilight glass.
Sylvalen Thalara stood barefoot on a circular platform of pale marble, her silver hair cascading down her back like a river of moonlight. She wore a flowing green mantle fastened by a single jeweled clasp, and her hands were folded behind her back.
When she turned, her expression was unreadable—but not cold.
"You came," she said, as if it had already been decided.
Isaac nodded once. "I did."
A moment passed. Then she gestured to a curved bench beneath a flowering vine. He sat. She remained standing.
"I expected it would take longer," Sylvalen said. "That you would hold off until your situation became dire."
"I almost did," Isaac replied. "But then someone tried to test me in a marketplace. In public."
Her eyes flickered. "I heard."
"Then you know why I'm here."
Sylvalen stepped forward, graceful and deliberate. "You want protection."
"No," Isaac said calmly. "I want an understanding."
She tilted her head.
"I don't belong to anyone. I don't want a banner or a throne or a leash with a smile attached to it." His voice was steady. "But I'm not stupid. The more power I show, the more people will try to claim me, control me, or destroy me. I won't be anyone's weapon—but I'm not naive enough to think I can stay unnoticed forever."
Sylvalen watched him, silent.
"I came here," he continued, "because you saw me at the auction. You knew what I was. Maybe not everything—but enough. And you didn't flinch. You didn't threaten me. You didn't try to buy me."
She smiled faintly. "And that impressed you?"
"It told me you understood what I value."
Isaac leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.
"So here's my offer: You help me stay free. If the wrong people start poking around, you give them a reason to back off. No loud declarations. No banners. Just enough to make them hesitate."
Sylvalen's gaze didn't waver. "And in return?"
Isaac looked her in the eyes.
"If you ever need me—really need me—ask."
Her expression shifted just slightly. Not surprise. Not amusement.
Recognition.
"You're offering your strength," she said softly.
"Not as a soldier. Not as a servant. Just… me," Isaac said. "If it's something that matters to you, and you call—I'll come."
A silence stretched between them.
Then she spoke. "You'd give that freely?"
"I'm not for sale. But I'm not without honor."
Sylvalen stepped closer.
"You ask for subtle protection. And in return, offer the possibility of future action. That's not a contract. It's a choice."
Isaac stood. "Exactly."
She extended her hand, palm up. No ritual. No enchantment. Just trust.
Isaac took it.
"For now," Sylvalen said, "consider yourself watched over. If the city whispers too loudly, I will silence it."
"And if your storm ever rises," Isaac replied, "you won't need to face it alone."
Their hands parted.
No sparks. No runes. Just quiet resolve.
As Isaac turned to leave, Sylvalen's voice followed him one last time.
"Isaac," she said. "You are the first person who's ever walked into my court… and offered loyalty without surrender."
He paused.
"Then I guess we both get something rare."
And with that, he stepped into the fading light, carrying a pact not bound by oath or title—only by choice.