The throne hall was a majestic embodiment of cold power; polished black stone walls reflected the dim light streaming from the high windows. At the center of the hall sat the Arkadia Council, presided over by the stern-eyed noble Lord Falcon, a pivotal figure among the adversaries.
Adam—or rather Kays' body—was dragged to the center of the hall, bound by a chain of Octane iron that absorbed magic.
Adam looked at the angry faces surrounding him. They expected a desperate defense or a cry of remorse.
"Kays!" Lord Falcon shouted, his voice sharply echoing through the hall.
"You are accused of allying with the demons and opening the Gate of Darkness on the Night of the Harvest. Do you have anything to say to clear your name?"
Fear gripped Adam. One wrong word could mean death. He forced himself to mimic the arrogant tone of Kays that flowed in his mind from the remnants of the body's memory.
"I did not betray the kingdom, my lord," Adam spoke in a deep, confident voice he didn't expect from himself.
"This accusation is fabricated to cover your catastrophic failure to protect the eastern borders. It was a trap… and I do not know who set it."
It was enough. The response didn't fully absolve him, but it raised doubts. Faces in the council ranged from convinced of his guilt to hesitant.
At that moment, Adam's attention was drawn to a woman seated on a side chair carved into the wall. She was an elf, with silver-blond hair cascading around her long, pointed ears, and deep green eyes carrying centuries of wisdom. She was Lia, the ancient magic advisor.
She raised her hand slowly, and the moment her eyes met Adam's, he felt a fleeting spiritual connection, as if she were searching his soul rather than his body.
"Honorable council," Lia said, her voice mellow and calm, like the whisper of the wind,
"Regardless of his alleged crime, Kays is the last of the 'Shadow Knight' family, who have upheld the Aether Covenant for centuries. We cannot behead him before properly questioning the nature of the magic used in the gate. I request a three-day delay to complete the spiritual cleansing ritual."
Her request was an argument, but it worked. The council agreed, and Adam was taken to the Crying Stone Cell, a place no prisoner was supposed to leave alive.
In the darkness of the cell, as he surrendered to despair, Adam felt a cold tingle in his palm—the same faint electric sensation he had felt before.
He looked at the shackles, and they glowed with faint blue lines. The power wasn't his; it was coming to him!
A faint whisper, heard not with his ears but in his mind, pierced the walls of the cell:
"Do not trust Falcon. The gate was not for 'betrayal,' but for 'activation.' Seek the Lost Book of Shadows beneath the ancient Djinn monument. You have three days."
The voice was Lia's—the mysterious elf.
Adam realized that Lia hadn't saved him by accident. She had planted a seed of mystery, the first thread leading him to the heart of the conspiracy.
It was no longer just about escape; it was about solving an ancient puzzle.
"The Lost Book of Shadows"… this was the key to survival and uncovering the truth of the so-called traitorous knight