Liora narrowed her eyes and continued to speak in a firm tone; there wasn't the slightest trace of hesitation in her voice. Her words were cold, sharp, and direct.
"The person who was executed today... was not Artemus."
The air in the room changed instantly. The shelves full of books, ancient maps, thick files, and even the dim candlelight seemed to bend under the weight of those words. The man sitting at the table froze for a moment. He slowly raised his head, and the gaze that pierced through his glasses grew sharper as it locked onto Liora.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice echoing with tension. His eyes examined Liora's face closely, as if searching for the meaning behind her words.
Liora stepped forward and continued without hesitation:"The man beside me… he… you were led to believe that he was Artemus, the one who was executed. But he wasn't."
With those words, the silence in the room deepened even more. Kael was stunned. He struggled to understand what was being said about him, but in that moment, when the man —likely the leader of this society— turned his gaze toward him, Kael felt an instinctive chill. The man's eyes seemed to penetrate into Kael's very mind, trying to scrape out every hidden thought.
The first one to break the tension was the man himself."Liora..." he said through gritted teeth, the words falling from his mouth like stones. "What's your proof?"
Liora was prepared for this question. Her voice slowed slightly but did not lose its initial determination."There are things that shouldn't be explained here. But it's the truth. Kael... would you step outside?"
Kael was bewildered. His eyes darted from Liora to the man in the room. The conversation was becoming more and more abstract, and the questions in his mind were multiplying. But... he also knew Liora had left him no other option. He had already been forced to trust her before, and now, he found himself in the same place again. He took a deep breath and nodded slightly in agreement.
He turned slowly and headed for the door. As he stepped out through the creaking door, someone was waiting for him.
Mark.
He was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. As if he had known all along that Kael would come out, he approached him with slow steps. His usual slightly mocking smile was still on his face, but this time it was softer. He looked Kael over and then asked politely, with a slight bow of his head:
"Would you like something to drink?"
The tone in which he said it didn't sound like a simple offer. At that moment, Kael realized it wasn't really a choice. There was no invitation in Mark's eyes—only an obligation. As if this wasn't an offer, but a directive.Kael hesitated for a brief moment and then nodded slowly. He didn't have much of a choice anyway.
He accepted, even if unwillingly.
They walked through the castle, passing through stone-paved courtyards, ancient towers, and shadowy archways. Along the way, most people seemed to recognize Mark. A few young men dressed like soldiers gave him nods of acknowledgment, while others patted him on the shoulder and called out his name warmly, engaging in brief conversations. Mark was not only respected, but apparently well-liked too.
Kael was surprised that the man walking beside him was so well-known. After Liora's words, he had imagined someone more distant, more enigmatic. But this man was relaxed and natural with those around him. There was warmth in the way he interacted with others. This only added to Kael's mounting questions.
Eventually, they reached an inn tucked away in the inner part of the castle, surrounded by stone walls and dimly lit with lanterns. The place was quiet. Perhaps it was a spot for the few remaining inhabitants of the castle to rest. Inside the inn, there were only five or six people, most of them silently absorbed in their drinks. No one turned to look at them. Mark was clearly known here as well—when the innkeeper saw them, he greeted them with a nod but asked nothing more.
Mark led them to a table in the far corner, near the wall, partly in shadow. It was a quiet spot—away from noise and prying eyes. When he sat down, he leaned back against the wall and glanced at Kael briefly. Then he placed a small bottle of liquor in the middle of the table. The label on the bottle was worn, but it was clear the dark amber liquid inside was whiskey.
"This one's old," Mark said as he opened the bottle. "I only bring it out for special occasions. And today is one of those days."
Kael's eyes fixed on the bottle, though with some doubt. After pouring himself a drink into an elegant glass, Mark reached out to fill Kael's glass as well.
Kael gently shook his head and raised his hand."I'd rather not. I don't drink alcohol," he said, softly but clearly.
Mark paused with the glass in the air. He looked at Kael attentively. The honesty and straightforwardness in Kael's voice was noticeable. Then he nodded slightly, pulled the glass back, and continued pouring into his own.
"I respect that," he said. "But you don't need to be so cold. I don't know what Liora told you about me, but... don't worry. I won't harm you."
The words were soft but sincere. Kael studied Mark's face closely. He searched for a trace of deception in his eyes but found none. The man truly seemed open, but the doubt inside Kael wouldn't go away so easily. Nothing Liora or Mark had said could eliminate the confusion he was experiencing—it only shifted its direction.
After a moment's hesitation, Kael tried to push aside his thoughts. He looked at the whiskey in the glass. Then he slowly slid his own glass toward the center of the table. Without raising his eyes, Mark poured a little into it.
Kael picked up the glass and silently raised it toward Mark. Mark raised his glass in turn. The glasses clinked with a dull sound.
"What are we drinking to?" Kael asked, not taking his eyes off Mark.
Mark answered with a slight smile at the corners of his lips:"To the truth. No matter how bitter it may be, to the fact that it will eventually come out."
Kael's brow furrowed slightly, and he turned the glass slowly in his hand. The hesitation about whether to drink or not became more apparent with each passing second.Mark noticed his doubt; his smile became a little clearer:"Even if you don't drink, clinking glasses is always good. If not for peace, then at least to celebrate a truce."
These words softened the tense atmosphere, even if only for a moment.
Kael took a small sip of the whiskey. He couldn't quite describe the taste, but he felt a warmth in his throat and a heavy wave of thought in his mind.The truth...
XXXXX
The man beside her had gone out. As the door closed heavily behind him, the air inside the room grew heavier. The elderly man, Althar, stared at Liora for a while. His gaze wasn't empty. He had built a courtroom of silence behind his eyes. Then his voice came—low, but with a pressure that seemed to push against the walls of the room:
"Since the man beside you has left, explain now," he said. He looked calm, but each word carried a blade hidden at its edge. "What do you mean by 'not Artemus'?"
His fingers slowly gripped the edge of the table. He was tense."If you can't prove this... You bring someone here and say 'he's not Artemus.' I hope you're not joking."
Liora didn't avert her gaze. She slightly bowed her head, then raised it again. Before speaking, her eyelids grew heavy; as if she was searching for an arrangement among the dozens of details running through her mind. She took a deep breath and finally let the words go:
"As you heard," she said slowly. "This man… was believed to be Artemus. But he's not."
Althar tilted his head slightly to the side. The judgment in his eyes gave way to a curiosity he couldn't suppress.
"I was there when he was discovered in the Wheel of Time. But at that time... he was on the surface world. I went there myself. Saw it with my own eyes. I tracked him right after he entered. And… he had no divinity."
Althar's face stiffened. His brows furrowed. He slowly rose from his seat, his robe falling slightly back off his shoulders. He relaxed his hand, but his voice trembled with the breath of a stunned scholar:
"Without divinity... Even some gods can't just step into the Wheel of Time whenever they please... This is impossible," Althar said, his voice a mix of astonishment and whispered rage. "This… is something only the Supreme Gods can do—those whose very existence has been touched by time itself. Even they sometimes hesitate. And for mortals like us? Only in very special cases, through gates opened with central approval… and under strict protocols. Randomly, on one's own? This... sounds like nonsense."