By the next day, Iron Hearth was buzzing.
The night's events had become the only topic of conversation, spreading from taverns to bakeries, from marketplaces to alley corners. Those who had been at the barricades retold the story with wild gestures, describing the green flares, the shouts of officers, the grim march of the knights. Each retelling grew taller than the last—some swore they had seen Kaelen's corpse with their own eyes, others claimed the officers had unleashed forbidden magic that blinded Iron Shield before cutting them down.
And those who had slept through it listened with wide eyes, clutching at every word.
"So it's true? Kaelen is dead?"
"Dead. Him and Tannus both. They say their bodies were carried out, chained and covered."
"Gods above… I never thought I'd live to see it."
As people spoke, they noticed something unusual: the officers were still patrolling.
