The air was still heavy with the scent of ash when the sound reached them — faint at first, then growing sharper.
Armored footsteps. Dozens of them.
Kaen's head snapped toward the sound. Through the veil of mist, he saw shadows moving — the rhythmic gleam of armor, the silver flash of drawn steel.
"Someone's coming," Riku whispered, her voice tight. She drew her blade, the edge trembling in her hand.
Darren's grip tightened around his hammer. "They found us."
The noise grew louder — boots crushing gravel, orders shouted in low voices. A torch's light flickered between the trees.
Kaen's heart pounded. His throat was dry. The squad had just escaped the jungle's horrors — but Eldoria's own soldiers closing in on them felt even worse.
A shout rang out. "There! They're here!"
The shadows converged — a squad of armored soldiers surrounded them, spears glinting in the firelight. Their helms bore the symbol of the Council: twin wings over flame.
"Drop your weapons!"
Kaen's mind raced. Detained? Questioned?
Riku lowered her sword slightly, eyes narrowing. "We're not your enemy."
The soldiers didn't move. The tension was thick enough to choke.
And then — a familiar voice broke through it.
"Wait!"
The crowd of armored figures parted.
From behind them stepped a young man with dusty blond hair and the faint insignia of the Eldorian academy across his shoulder guard.
Kaen blinked. "...Fin?"
The soldier's hard expression cracked for a moment. "Kaen…? What are you doing here?"
Kaen exhaled, his relief mixing with shame. "We went after Captain Ryn. He—he saved us. You wouldn't understand."
Fin's gaze darkened. "Captain Ryn? You mean the one the Council branded corrupted?"
"He's not corrupted!" Kaen snapped. "He fought it. You weren't there!"
The soldiers shifted uneasily, their spears wavering. Fin raised a hand, silencing them.
"I believe you," he said quietly. "But it doesn't matter. Orders are orders."
Kaen stepped forward, desperate. "Then take us to him. Please. If they're calling him a traitor, we'll tell them the truth."
Fin hesitated — then nodded once, his eyes heavy with conflict.
"Fine. But keep your weapons sheathed. The Council's already decided the story they want to hear."
He turned, signaling the soldiers to move.
The squad followed, surrounded on all sides — the cold steel of their escort glinting beneath the dying light.
As they walked, Kaen glanced at Fin, once his academy rival, now a stranger behind the mask of duty.
In his heart, Kaen felt it — the shift.
The war was no longer just against monsters.
It was against men.
And somewhere deep inside, he knew… this was only the beginning of a new kind of battle.
---
The Silent Hall
The wind howled through Eldoria's high spires, carrying dust and whispers across the stone courtyards. Dawn had not yet broken, but the sky was bruised — heavy clouds pressing low as if the heavens themselves waited for something to unfold.
The Judgment Hall loomed in silence.
Its massive wooden doors, carved with runes from an age when gods still walked, stood half-open, spilling faint torchlight onto the cobbled ground.
Kaen and his companions moved through the mist like shadows — Riku, her braid tied tight, eyes sharp with resolve; Darren, jaw set, a heavy silence following him; and Draxion, calm but unreadable as ever.
Behind them, Fin adjusted his cloak, glancing nervously toward the guards stationed near the gate. "You didn't hear this from me," he murmured, voice hushed. "The Council meets below the central chamber. Don't stay long — if they catch you here, I can't save you."
Kaen's hand gripped Fin's shoulder for a brief moment. "You've done enough. Thank you."
Fin nodded once, then disappeared into the fog.
Inside, the hall was lit by long rows of torches. The flames swayed as if they too feared the silence.
The air was thick with incense and judgment — the kind that smelled of rot beneath gold.
At the far end, on a raised platform carved into the stone itself, the Councilor sat. Draped in crimson robes and a mask of polished bone, he read through a stack of parchments illuminated by a single hanging lamp. His voice, when he spoke, was calm — almost gentle.
"Children of Ryn's command," he said without looking up, "why do you walk in places forbidden before dawn?"
Kaen stepped forward. His voice cracked slightly, but the fire behind it didn't waver. "We're not here to defy the law. We're here to understand it. To understand why our captain — the man who saved Eldoria from the beast of the forest — is being treated like a criminal."
The Councilor's quill paused mid-scratch.
"Ah," he said softly. "So this is about him."
Behind Kaen, Riku's voice rang clear. "You locked him in chains for saving lives. For our lives. Is that how Eldoria rewards loyalty?"
The Councilor's head tilted, the lamplight catching the edge of his mask. "Loyalty means obedience. And obedience means knowing when power must be restrained."
Darren clenched his fists. "Restrained? He faced a creature that could've leveled this village! You call that restraint?"
Still the Councilor did not raise his voice. "And yet… he turned his blade upon his own. Did he not?"
The words fell heavy.
Kaen's breath trembled, but he stood firm. "He lost control for a moment — a wound, the chaos, the pain — but he didn't kill anyone. You know that."
Now the Councilor looked up. His eyes — grey and cold as the stone walls — fixed on Kaen.
"And yet, that single moment of loss… could destroy everything we have built."
He rose slowly, the rustle of his robes echoing like a hiss. "We will speak of him tomorrow. At the tenth bell. That is when judgment is given — not stolen in the dark."
Kaen's heart pounded like war drums. "You speak of judgment as if it were divine, but all I see are men hiding behind rules to justify fear."
The Councilor's silence was sharper than any blade.
---
The Clash of Conviction
The tension in the air grew heavy — thick enough to feel against their skin.
Riku stepped beside Kaen, her hand brushing against the hilt of her blade. "Captain Ryn fought for you. For this village. You watched from your golden seats while he bled for everyone here. You don't know what it means to fight in that forest."
The Councilor's tone remained calm — too calm. "And yet, I lead. Because I understand what must be done when hearts burn too bright. Fire destroys as easily as it saves."
Kaen's voice grew louder. "Then let me burn. But don't call it justice when you chain a man for doing what was right!"
A low hum of energy filled the room — not magic, but pure human defiance. Darren's boots scraped the floor as he moved closer, his expression grim. "We won't leave without answers."
At that, the Councilor gave a soft, almost sorrowful sigh. "Then you'll leave under guard."
He raised one pale hand.
From the shadows near the pillars, armored soldiers emerged — silent, disciplined, their spears gleaming in the torchlight. In a breath, the four companions were surrounded.
Draxion muttered, "Here we go again…"
Kaen's gaze didn't falter. "We're not enemies."
"Then stand down," one soldier ordered.
Riku's eyes narrowed. "Not until you listen."
The soldiers stepped closer — the faint ring of metal filling the chamber.
Then, everything moved at once.
Kaen sidestepped the first grab, slamming his forearm into a guard's chest. Riku spun low, sweeping a soldier's legs out from under him. Darren's punch echoed like thunder against steel armor, sending another crashing into a pillar.
Draxion moved like water — parrying, twisting, disarming with smooth precision rather than rage.
But none of them struck to kill. Their movements were sharp, controlled — desperation, not rebellion.
"Enough!" Kaen shouted as another spear thrust past his shoulder, grazing his cloak. "We don't want this fight!"
The Councilor's calm voice cut through the chaos. "Then surrender your defiance."
Kaen glared at him. "You call it defiance. I call it truth."
The soldiers regrouped, forming a half-circle. Sweat and dust filled the air; torches flickered wildly. For a heartbeat, no one moved — just the sound of heavy breathing and the faint crackle of flame.
Then Riku stepped forward, her voice trembling but fierce. "If Ryn is condemned without hearing, this village condemns itself."
The Councilor's eyes flickered, a faint crack appearing in his stoic calm. "You speak like children who have yet to understand the cost of peace."
"Peace?" Darren spat. "You mean silence."
A moment of unbearable quiet followed.
Then the Councilor turned away — his final words low, almost like a whisper meant for himself.
"May the dawn decide your fate."
He gestured toward the guards. "Remove them."
Kaen's jaw tightened. His heart screamed to fight — but Draxion's hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"Not here," Draxion murmured. "Not now."
One by one, they lowered their weapons and allowed themselves to be led away — the fire still burning in their eyes.
But as they passed through the great doors, Kaen's gaze lingered on the Councilor — a stare that promised the night was far from over.
---
The Shadow Below
The dawn was breaking when they reached the outer courtyard. Pale light spilled over the stone towers, brushing the village rooftops in dull gold.
Kaen stood still for a moment, staring up at the sky that refused to brighten.
Riku placed a hand on his arm. "We'll find another way. He's not gone yet."
Darren exhaled sharply. "Tomorrow at tenth bell, huh? Feels like an execution waiting to happen."
Draxion's eyes scanned the horizon. "Then we don't wait for dawn. We move before it."
Kaen turned toward the Judgment Hall once more — toward the sealed gates below, where Ryn was held in darkness. His chest ached with something he couldn't name — guilt, fear, fury, all tangled together.
In the distance, thunder rumbled across the mountains.
The villagers began to gather, whispers rising like smoke.
"They say he went mad…"
"He turned on his own kind…"
"The captain's cursed…"
Kaen's fists clenched. "They don't know him," he muttered. "They never will."
Riku met his eyes. "Then make them."
As they walked away, the bells of Eldoria tolled the first light of day — slow, heavy, mournful.
Beneath their feet, the ground trembled faintly.
The wind shifted, carrying a sound from deep below the hall — faint, metallic, like chains dragged across stone.
In the darkness under Eldoria, Captain Ryn stirred.
His breath came slow, ragged — and his eyes, when they opened, gleamed faintly through the shadows, not human anymore.
The dawn was coming.
And so was the reckoning.