Reatin || Spiteful Knight

Reatin Yuan stood in the throne room, his brightly coloured uniform marking him as an outlier among the finely dressed nobles. The vibrant hues clashed garishly with the muted elegance of the room, drawing attention he did not want. The king, in his infinite wisdom, had decreed that his guards wear these... these ógeðslegt costumes so that the nobles might feel at ease in their presence. Reatin suspected it wasn’t for the nobles’ comfort at all, but rather the king’s satisfaction at seeing his warriors dressed like dúllur. He endured it, as he always did, standing silently by the king’s side, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sverð as His Majesty traded and bantered with the assembled courtiers. The room glittered with treasures of jade and ruby, with gold and silver adorning every corner, a brazen display of wealth and power that only deepened Reatin’s unease.

His eyes swept the room, taking in the nobles as they laughed, conversed, and sipped their overpriced wines, oblivious to the world outside these gilded walls. They spoke in voices dripping with false pleasantries, their faces hidden behind masks of powdered beauty and feigned grace. Reatin knew the truth of what lay beyond this palace: villages struggling to survive, families shivering in the cold, and children crying out in hunger. These nobles, with their idle chatter and self-importance, had no idea of the darkness that enveloped the world beyond their insulated lives. They lived in luxury built upon the suffering of others, and though the thought sickened him, Reatin had to admit he was complicit. His role was to protect the king, the figurehead of this oppressive system, and for that, he was rewarded with coins and security. Yet at what cost? His grip on the hilt of his sverð tightened the weapon a cold comfort in a harsh reality.

The problem wasn’t just here in the court. For months now, reports had flooded in from every corner of the kingdom. Villages razed, families torn apart, and guardsmen slaughtered—all the work of shapeshifters. These creatures were clever, insidious, and cruel, slipping into the lives of their victims and assuming their identities with frightening ease. They had no loyalty, no empathy, no humanity. The kingdom was at war with an enemy it could not see, and every person was a potential threat. The stakes were higher than they had ever been, and Reatin knew that if he faltered even once, the consequences could be catastrophic.

As his gaze moved over the room, something caught his attention—no, someone. A figure among the sea of nobles stood out, but not in the way the others sought to. Where the nobles postured and preened to outshine one another, this person’s strangeness came naturally, effortlessly. Everything about them seemed... wrong. The way they stood, the way they spoke to those around them, even the way they looked—it all felt out of place, as though they didn’t quite belong to this world. Helvíti, he thought, suppressing a shiver. His instincts, honed from years of service, told him to be wary. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this person was more than they appeared to be. Reatin’s hand rose, and with a sharp gesture, he beckoned them over.

"ou there vinur, he called, his voice cutting through the hum of conversation like a blade. The figure hesitated for a moment, then approached. As they drew near, Reatin studied them intently, searching for clues, for anything that might reveal their nature. His grip on his sverð remained firm, ready for whatever might come.

What is the most used card in the deck? The question was simple to those unaware of its significance, but the entire kingdom knew its importance. It was a test, recently implemented to expose shapeshifters. The correct response wasn’t verbal but physical: two deliberate rubs under the eye followed by a swipe along the curve of the nose. Shapeshifters, not understanding the significance of this menial action, never performed the gesture, and those who failed the test had to be struck down immediately, without hesitation or mercy.