The sky above the Frost Pillar Court was too bright.
Sunlight had no place in Antarctica.
But the snow had melted around the ruins of the Crystal Sanctum, and where once the winds howled over an eternal kingdom of ice, there was now only mist… and judgment.
Kael stood shirtless in the center of the circle—wrists bound by rune-etched frost chains, glowing softly against his skin. His spirit mark, the bear claw sigil over his chest, still pulsed, betraying the storm that lived inside him now.
Twelve stone thrones encircled him.
Twelve judges.
Six mortal. Six spirit-born.
Atop them sat the Council of Bonded, their armor ceremonial, their faces cold and unreadable.
In front of them stood his accusers—envoys of the Beast Kings themselves.
Kael's breath steamed through gritted teeth. He had not spoken since they dragged him from the Sanctum's ruins. They had taken his blade. His pendant. His name.
All but one thing remained:
His silence.
His father's legacy.
"This is a lie," said a voice from behind him.
Kael blinked.
She stepped forward from the shadows of the stone columns—her cloak flaring behind her like whipped smoke, boots silent, eyes burning.
Sari Vahra.
Daughter of the Cheetah King.
Spy. Diplomat. Warrior.
Friend.
"I was summoned as witness," she said, stepping before the Council. "And I will not let this stand unanswered."
Her voice cut through the frost like a blade. Her presence pulled every gaze in the court. But not all welcomed it.
Her mother, Thiana Vahra, rose from her throne in fury. Her gold-inlaid armor shimmered as she shouted, "That's enough, Sari! You do not know that which you speak!"
The chamber stirred with murmurs.
But the Eldest Bonded raised a hand, silencing all.
"You were not at the Sanctum, Sari of the Mirage Clan," he said, his voice like cracking ice. "You did not see what we saw."
His words echoed, heavy with judgment.
Sari did not flinch.
She stepped closer to Kael, her jaw set. "No. I wasn't. But I know Kael Arokksen. And I know lies when I hear them."
Kael, still bound in silence, looked up at her—for the first time since the trial began.
Something flickered in his eyes.
Not hope.
But memory.
---
"I saw what you missed," Sari snapped. Her voice echoed across the frost court like a whip crack. "You think Kael Arokksen killed Arokk the Frostbound? That he shattered the throne and absorbed his father's spirit flame? Do you even understand how insane that sounds?"
"No," said a masked judge from the Earth Domain. His voice rumbled like a shifting stone. "What's insane is that he's still alive. After all others perished. Even the Polar Guard."
All eyes turned to Kael.
Sari turned too—but softer this time, a tremor in her expression.
"Tell them," she said, her voice almost tender. "Kael, tell them what you saw."
Kael's hands twitched in the chains. His mouth opened.
But the memory surged back—
The shapeless void.
The death pulse.
His father's final words.
"Forgive me, Kael."
His jaw clenched. He looked to the ground.
"I don't... I don't know what it was," he said at last, his voice barely more than a whisper. "It wasn't a spirit. It wasn't even a beast."
One of the mortal Bonds scoffed bitterly. "How convenient. The only survivor can't explain the enemy."
"I didn't kill him," Kael growled, louder now. "I would never. He was my father, for crying out loud."
"But you carry his power!" another judge snapped. "Look at your mark—no unbonded heir has ever held a King's flame without claiming the throne!"
"I didn't want the throne!" Kael's voice rang out across the chamber—the first time he had raised it.
The chains glowed blue from his pulse. The stone beneath him cracked. A ring of frost crept outward, icy tendrils lashing toward the judge's feet before vanishing.
Kael's chest rose and fell, hard. "I just wanted answers. He was gone before I could do anything."
He looked down as tears ran freely down his face, steaming as they hit the cold stone.
The Council whispered among themselves like distant winds.
Then the Eldest Bonded, a spirit woman carved from obsidian and smoke, raised her hand.
The chamber fell silent.
"The Beast Kings have spoken," she said, each word slow, deliberate. "Until further clarity arises, the Trial of Echoes is suspended. Kael Arokksen, you are to be exiled from the Ice Domain and stripped of your heirship. Your name will not be spoken at the next Dominion Summit. You may not call upon the leyline. You may not summon the bear spirit."
She paused.
"You are... Forsaken."
The snow answered in silence.
Sari stepped forward, fire in her eyes. "This is madness. If you exile him, you send him straight into the open wilds. And whoever truly killed Arokk will find him alone. And who is going to rule? We all know he is the only one with the King's flame."
"That," said the judge from the Lion Domain, his golden mane cascading from his helm, "may reveal the truth."
Kael met Sari's eyes.
She looked like she wanted to scream. To draw her blade. To tear the council apart and free him with fire and claws.
But she didn't.
She knew the law.
The Dominion was made of oaths.
Her voice cracked as she said, "Then I'll go with him."
"No," came a deep, thunderous voice from the north arch.
All turned.
From the shadowed entrance stepped a towering figure—Koro Dawnmane, the exiled general of the Lion King. His armor still bore lightning burns, scorched across the shoulder like old wounds. His greatsword hung across his back like a sleeping sunbeam.
"If Kael's to survive," Koro said, voice like thunder over stone, "he needs to walk the ice alone. Not even a cat can outrun what's following him."
Sari's fists tightened. "So we do nothing?"
Koro met her gaze. "We watch. And we wait. He's not done."
The Council gave no further word.
Kael's chains released with a hiss of melting rune-light. He dropped to one knee, catching himself. The cold stung his bare chest. His wrists burned where the spirit runes had seared his flesh.
Two guards stepped forward—lesser spirit beasts in humanoid form, their forms draped in frost steel and silk. Silent, somber, eyes unreadable.
They moved to escort him.
Kael turned one last time.
He looked at Sari.
At Koro.
At Luma Ashsoul, who stood hidden in the shadows near the edge of the court, clutching her seer's staff tightly. Her violet eyes were already wet with what she had seen.
"You still believe in me?" Kael asked, his voice barely above the wind.
Koro looked away.
Luma wiped her eyes.
Sari did not flinch.
"No," she said. "I believe in what killed your father. And I know it's not done with you."
The gates of the Ice Domain creaked open behind him.
Beyond them, the Wastes of Echo stretched endlessly—blinding white beneath a dying sky. Wind howled low across the frozen plains, carrying whispers and the scent of unseen things.
Kael stepped to the threshold—unarmed, unarmored, unblessed.
Alone.
The guards bowed and stepped back.
The gates closed.
Kael stepped into exile.
And far below the crust of the continent—beneath the ruins, beneath the leyline, deeper than any mortal had walked—
the spiral void opened its second eye.
And it was awake.
---