The next morning, the sun rose dull and pale behind a veil of high clouds, casting a sterile light over the city of Vireen. The towers of the academy stood like silent sentinels as Kael made his way toward the central keep—alone.
His cloak was the plain black of a Learner. He wore no medals, bore no crest. And yet every step he took seemed to pull the gaze of the world behind him.
The Grand Hall of the Royal Council was nothing like the rest of the academy. It was older—stone blackened with age, its arches carved with forgotten language, the kind only scholars or spellsmiths could decipher. Kael walked beneath those glyphs without flinching.
Two palace guards opened the double doors without a word.
Inside, the chamber felt like a theater built for judgement. A high dome crowned the ceiling, where threads of crystal light hung like spider silk. Twelve councilors sat in semicircular tiers, robes trimmed in silver and crimson, eyes like blades behind golden masks.
In the center, beneath a ring of white flame, sat Prince Ardyn Feros.
His right arm was bandaged beneath a polished pauldron. His face was the same—a sculpted thing of princely arrogance—but his eyes… they were colder than yesterday.
Kael stood before them, silent.
One of the elder councilors rose, the golden sunburst of Eldrien's court shining from his chestplate.
"Kael of the Learners. You have been summoned before the Council of Vireen to answer for your actions against the noble line of Eldrien. Do you understand why?"
Kael didn't blink. "Because I won."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the chamber.
The councilor raised a hand. "You will mind your tongue. You face a charge of grievous insult and unauthorized use of advanced combat techniques in a sanctioned spar. You injured a royal heir."
Kael's voice cut through the room: "The duel was lawful. The result was clean."
"You defied your station."
"I followed the rules."
Another voice joined in—this one familiar, smug, coiled with contempt.
Ardyn.
"The rules," he said, rising to his feet, "were written for people who know their place."
Kael looked up at him, unshaken. "I know my place. That's the problem."
A hush fell again.
Ardyn stepped down from the throne-like seat, walking toward Kael. "You're a Learner. Not a Talent. Not a noble. Not one of us."
"And yet I stood against you," Kael said. "And you fell."
The prince's hand twitched.
In the shadows behind the council seats, Kael saw subtle movement. Just enough. Someone was preparing something.
A signal?
Kael's mind spun, tracing possibilities. Spell casting? Summons? No—too soon for an execution. They needed justification.
A trap.
Another councilor spoke, this one a woman draped in blue and onyx, voice like silk over ice. "Perhaps we overestimated this boy's intelligence. He doesn't seem to understand the opportunity we're giving him."
Kael tilted his head. "Opportunity?"
"To apologize," she said. "To bow. To swear loyalty to the crown. To acknowledge his place in the order."
"And if I don't?"
Ardyn's smile returned. "Then we'll remind the kingdom that ambition without rank is treason."
Kael's fingers twitched at his side.
They wanted a performance. A show of dominance. And they wanted him broken in public.
He looked up into the center of the dome—where the threads of crystal light shimmered like webbing. At their nexus, something pulsed. A sealed ward? A recorder spell?
They were broadcasting this.
Good.
"I will not apologize," Kael said.
He turned in a slow circle, addressing all of them.
"I was born without a crest. Without a Talent. I earned everything I have through learning, practice, discipline. If that threatens your illusion of superiority, that is not my crime. It's your insecurity."
Ardyn's eyes flared. "Careful."
Kael stepped forward, fire in his voice now. "You can threaten me. Chain me. Even kill me. But you can't erase what happened in that arena."
He paused.
"You bled. And I didn't."
Gasps. One of the guards stepped forward—only to be halted by a raised hand from the councilor in blue.
The woman's eyes narrowed. "So be it. If this is your choice, Kael of the Learners…"
She raised her hand—and behind Kael, the doors slammed shut.
"…then you have declared yourself an enemy of the noble order."
Kael stood tall.
Then—
Something shifted.
A flicker from the upper dome.
A thread of crystal snapped, and the ward above trembled.
The illusion failed for only a second.
And Kael saw it—
A cloaked assassin, poised on the rafters above, dagger drawn, eyes glowing with a spell of silence and stillness.
Kael's body moved before his mind could catch up.
The blade was already falling.