Revolt or despair: a chronicle of change
"sharük dies off..."
Denatys Deukos, the Ardent Master, was watching Lykos. He had expected many things but not this...
The news he brought was bleak, for sure: the Marauders had attacked the convoy carrying to Pyr supreme materials extracted in the Nexus. The few defenders had been wiped out, and the materials would be in the hands of those cursed raguses now.
But sharükos could have raged, asked for the heads of those responsible, or even his own head, demanded an immediate attack, but no...
It seemed like something had broken inside him.
When he learned that hardly any patriot had answered the call of Daeronn Cegrips, the great Fyros scholar, coordinator of the researches at the Nexus, all the blood had deserted his face. The resemblance to his father's face at the height of his illness had struck the Burning Master.
"sharük dies off..."
It was only a whisper but Denatys Deukos shuddered, as if struck to the heart.
For a few long seconds a silence heavy with doubts and fears lasted, but the Burning Master’s training took hold.
"Shall I summon General Icaphotis Dydilus to receive your orders, sharükos?
— What's the use? The orders don't change. Continue to protect what's left."
Lykos, morose, disappeared into his apartments, without adding a word.
Denatys Deukos stood there, dazed, torn between despair and revolt.
sharük= the Empire.
sharükos= the Emperor.