The council chamber was cloaked in silence—one thick with unspoken accusations and bitter secrets. Marble columns, gilded with runes from a bygone era, seemed to lean inward as though they too listened.
Alaric stood before the gathered lords and magistrates, his cloak damp with the ash-rain that had begun to fall outside. Beside him stood Kael, eyes flickering with restrained lightning, and Lysera, her expression unreadable behind a veil of icy calm.
"Voidbinders breached three tiers of the lower city," Alaric said, his voice cutting clean across the murmurs. "And they didn't do it alone."
He let the words hang.
Across the room, Lord Varen narrowed his eyes. "Are you accusing the Council?"
"I'm stating facts," Alaric replied. "Every breach lined up perfectly with gaps in our protective wards—gaps that weren't there two weeks ago. Someone leaked their locations."
Gasps echoed. Murmurs swelled. But one man stayed silent.
High Judge Ellon, whose crimson ring bore the sigil of Seer's Rest, stared at the map in front of him and said nothing. That silence was telling.
Lord Varen rose. "These are dangerous allegations. If the boy has no proof—"
"I have proof," Lysera interrupted. She tossed a small metal orb onto the center table. It spun, hissed, and projected an aetherlight image above the table.
A grainy recording played: a robed man, masked, speaking in hushed tones to a figure cloaked in Void-touched armor. Behind him, visible only for a flash, was the unmistakable carving of the Council's inner sanctum.
"We clean the path. Burn the outer rings. Draw them out. Let the girl bleed if she must," the masked man whispered.
"Who?" Lord Varen asked sharply.
But Alaric already knew.
He turned toward the quiet man at the far end. "High Judge Ellon. That's your voice."
Ellon finally looked up.
"I did what was necessary."
Silence dropped like a blade.
"You consorted with the Voidbinders?" Kael growled.
Ellon rose, face grim. "You don't understand. The real danger isn't Maeryn, or her little rebellion. It's Vaelion. You think he's some relic. A name. But he walks again—and his wrath is not something this fractured realm can survive without making… sacrifices."
Alaric stepped forward. "You betrayed us."
"I preserved us."
But before another word could be said, a sudden pressure filled the room—one that made even the air tremble. Shadows writhed across the far wall, and from them stepped a figure wrapped in strands of Void.
Maeryn.
Her entrance was silent, her gaze steady.
She looked… changed. The Titan essence had bloomed within her. Her eyes glowed with an unnatural brilliance, and her voice when she spoke sounded like a thousand echoes layered into one.
"You bicker over secrets and power," she said, walking forward with deliberate calm. "While the world beyond this city decays into ash."
Kael stepped forward, lightning flashing across his knuckles. "You've fallen."
She looked at him—not with hatred, but sorrow. "You never understood the chains you wore, Kael. I broke mine."
Lysera stood defensively between Alaric and Maeryn. "What do you want?"
"Nothing from you," Maeryn replied. "I came for Ellon. His usefulness has ended."
Before Ellon could even move, her hand raised—and black fire laced with Titan aether engulfed him. His scream was short, his body disintegrated. Ash scattered across the marble.
The council was frozen in fear.
Alaric's voice, steady despite the weight of the moment, broke the silence.
"You've declared war."
Maeryn met his eyes. "No, Alaric. I've declared judgment. And when the stars fall, only the forged shall remain."
With that, she vanished—leaving the chamber scorched, and the city teetering on the edge of collapse.
End of Chapter 43
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