SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

Trafalgar and Rhosyn were finally away from the water, and as far as Trafalgar was concerned, he had no intention of going near that much of it again for a long time.

Meraval had drained him in ways that had little to do with fighting. Hours had turned into days and days into weeks, and most of that time had gone on watching people, digging into things nobody wanted dug into, and working out which person in House Myrrhvale was lying about what.

The reward had been worth it, at least.

House Myrrhvale owed him now.

That alone was worth more than most material rewards he could have walked away with. Nerith had taken control of the family, the succession was finished, and both she and Lyren had made it plain that he could call on them in future.

Together with House Thal’zar, that gave him two Great Families outside his own with people at the top who would listen when he spoke.

’The problem is my own House.’

That thought had followed him for most of the journey back.

Darian had kept feeding information toward Caelum about Maeron’s movements, and the Shadowlink Echo had stayed quiet. Caelum had sent nothing urgent, which Trafalgar took to mean nothing had escalated far enough to demand his attention.

That was not the same as nothing happening.

Maeron had already tried to open contact with House Thal’zar through hidden channels. Trafalgar had told Darian to show a little interest while refusing soldiers, money or political support, which bought Caelum time to work from inside House Morgain.

Sooner or later, Trafalgar would have to tell Valttair directly.

’Before it becomes too late.’

Valttair was not careless. If something moved inside House Morgain without his knowledge, Trafalgar doubted it would stay hidden forever.

Rivena was already isolated inside the castle in every way except the word, precisely because Valttair knew something was wrong with her.

Knowing there was danger and knowing what to do about it were two different things.

Trafalgar’s thoughts went back to a question he had never fully answered.

’Would Valttair actually kill one of his own children if it came to that?’

The obvious answer should have been yes.

Valttair was cold, calculating and capable of decisions most people would never consider. Trafalgar had seen enough of him to know the man would give up almost anything if he believed House Morgain required it.

He still remembered the Sword Cemetery.

He remembered standing on the highest mountain of House Morgain during Mordrek’s funeral, surrounded by swords left behind by generations of the family.

Almost nobody had noticed anything unusual about Valttair that day.

Trafalgar had.

His face had barely changed, his posture had stayed the same and his voice had never broken, and Mordrek’s death had reached him.

Valttair loved his family in his own way.

That complicated everything.

Then there was the mine.

Trafalgar still had no idea what Valttair intended to do with the evidence connected to Vaelion. Esmond remained in their hands, and Valttair had gone as far as giving Trafalgar an item capable of holding a living person.

That gift had hardly been subtle.

Valttair knew Trafalgar had Esmond.

The real question was when he intended to use him.

If Esmond were presented before the Council of Sages and the other Great Families, House Vaelion would have a serious problem. Entering Morgain territory and causing the deaths of nearly two thousand people could not be explained away as an unfortunate misunderstanding.

It would be seen for what it was.

An attempt to break the peace between the Great Families.

The other six houses had very little reason to defend Vaelion over something like that, which made compensation to House Morgain almost unavoidable.

Trafalgar wondered whether Valttair was waiting for exactly that stage.

Then there was Dravok.

’Where the hell did that man go?’

Dravok had refused to say where he was heading. He had only said he did not know how long it would take, that Trafalgar should wait, and more to the point, that he should not start digging into anything while he was gone.

Even Vivienne had no idea where her adoptive father had disappeared to.

That was impressive, considering Vivienne herself had once been one of the legendary characters Trafalgar remembered from the game.

The thought led straight into another problem.

There were still several legendary characters he had not found.

Some he remembered clearly enough to know what kind of people they had been.

Others were worse.

Two in particular sat at the edge of his memory, names and impressions without enough information attached to them. Trafalgar could not remember whether they had been allies, enemies, neutral figures or something far more dangerous.

That bothered him.

There was always the possibility they were already dead.

Years had passed differently from what he remembered and this world never followed a script.

Trafalgar simply did not have the time to chase every possibility.

There was always something else.

Family.

Training.

Great Families.

Void Creatures.

The Primordials.

Euclid.

Aaron.

Even now, after everything in Myrrhvale, part of him already wanted to train again.

The mental strain from the dimension had been real, bad enough that Dravok had eventually forced him to stop, and he still wanted to go back to it.

He needed to become stronger.

And if he had the chance to learn directly from the man people once called the God of War, ignoring it would be stupidity.

Snow landed lightly on Trafalgar’s black hair.

Only then did he properly notice where he was.

He and Rhosyn were already walking through Euclid.

The streets had grown far busier since the first time he took control of the city. Shops lined roads that had once felt half-empty, workers moved between buildings, carriages came through cleared snow, and people got on with their lives despite the cold.

Euclid had grown.

A surprising number of people recognized him.

Some bowed from a distance. Others raised a hand or called a greeting as their lord passed.

Trafalgar noticed almost none of them.

Rhosyn did.

She returned several greetings herself while she kept pace beside him, glancing over now and then at a man who was physically present and mentally several countries away.

Eventually the mansion came into view.

Rhosyn stopped near the entrance and looked at him.

”Trafalgar.”

He finally turned toward her.

”We’ve arrived home.”

She studied his face for a moment before she went on.

”What have you been thinking about this whole way? You haven’t said a word since we entered Euclid.”

Trafalgar looked past her toward the mansion.

Then he exhaled slowly.

”Too many things.”