I had never seen such towering walls in my entire life.
The castle gates opened with a metallic groan, sunlight glinting off the steel plating as though even the sun bent to its will. Walking through them, my heart pounded louder than the sound of Kael's boots beside me.
Yet… Kael wasn't allowed to step any further. He clenched his fists, his jaw trembling, and the guards held their spears tighter. His eyes darted to mine once—rage, frustration, and helplessness flickering all at once—before he lowered his head in bitter surrender. That last look cut through me deeper than any blade.
I wanted to shout, to say something that could ease him, but Elira's soft but firm voice broke the moment.
"Come," she told me, her tone controlled like flowing water but edged with steel. "The Chancellor awaits."
I followed her, and the castle swallowed me whole.
The hallways were vast veins of marble, paintings of kings and scholars lining the walls. Every step echoed like a hammer striking my fate closer. Elira walked ahead, graceful, her blue cloak flowing like river silk. She spoke little, but every so often her eyes flicked toward me—measuring, judging.
Finally, as we turned a bend, a boy appeared from the opposite hall. He wore a white embroidered tunic, his dark hair neat, and his eyes bright like polished obsidian. For a second, his gaze met mine.
I thought he would sneer. Everything about him screamed "prince"—someone entitled, spoiled, arrogant. But instead, his lips curled into the gentlest of smiles.
"Welcome," he said softly. His voice was warm, like spring rain after endless drought. "I hope you find Avreth kinder than its gates."
I blinked, unsure of what to say, but before I could muster a reply, a soldier rushed to his side. "Your Highness, the Council summons you. It is urgent."
The boy—no, the Prince—nodded, and with a last kind glance at me, he walked away. His presence lingered like a calm breeze in a storm.
Elira noticed my expression. For the first time, her lips curved in the faintest smirk. "You expected arrogance?" she asked.
I looked away. "…Maybe."
She didn't answer, only continued walking.
We stopped before a towering set of obsidian doors. The symbols etched into them looked old—ancient even—sprawling patterns that felt alive under the torchlight. Elira lifted her hand and tapped in a rhythm: three palms, then three knuckles.
A thunderous voice from within boomed, "ENTER!"
The sound rattled my bones. My knees wanted to bend.
Elira leaned closer to me, whispering, "You go in alone. He will not tolerate two sets of feet stepping across his threshold."
"What if…" my voice cracked. "…What if he kills me?"
Her gaze softened for half a breath, though her lips stayed firm. "Then at least you'll learn the truth of him."
The doors opened with a groan. I stepped in.
The air inside was heavy—like stone pressing against my chest. A circular chamber, lined with bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling, maps pinned across walls, and a massive desk covered in parchments.
But my eyes went to the five figures standing near the center.
Three boys, two girls. Each one radiating presence. Their clothing wasn't gaudy, but sharp—trimmed in gold, sewn with symbols I didn't understand. Weapons hung casually at their sides like they were extensions of their bodies, not tools. Their eyes barely flickered to me, as though I were a passing breeze beneath their notice.
The Chancellor stood behind them.
Broad shoulders, his silver hair tied neatly, robes deep crimson and lined with sigils I couldn't decipher. His gaze was sharp—sharp enough that when it fell on me, I almost dropped to my knees. His very eyes seemed to peel back layers of skin and thought, burrowing into marrow.
"Order of Crimson Five," he thundered. "You have your task. Carry it out."
"As you command, Chancellor," they replied in unison, their voices disciplined, before leaving the chamber.
The heavy doors closed behind them. And then it was just him.
And me.
"Step forward."
My legs trembled, but I obeyed.
"What is your name?"
"Auren," I croaked.
His brow arched. "Louder. Speak to me as though you still deserve your tongue."
"Auren." My voice was stronger this time, though my chest burned.
"Where do you come from?"
"Beyond the eastern ridges."
"Too vague. Answer me with precision."
"I…" My throat went dry. "…I don't know exactly. The lands I came from had no name left. Ruins, ashes, and forest. That is all."
His eyes narrowed, glinting like a hawk's.
"What brings you to Avreth?"
"I…" I glanced at the ground. "I wanted… safety. Shelter. A place to belong."
He slammed his hand on the desk. The sound cracked like a whip.
"Do not feed me your vagueness, boy. Do you work for spies? Are you a bandit's whelp? A foreign pawn?"
"No!" I shouted before I could stop myself. "I swear I'm not—"
"Silence!"
My throat clamped shut like invisible chains. His aura—his sheer force of presence—kept me gasping for air.
Then the questions continued.
One after another.
"Who taught you to fight?"
"No one…"
"Who gave you knowledge of survival?"
"I only… learned."
"What do you want from Avreth?"
"I don't know."
Every time I hesitated, his glare carved another wound into me. At one point, he leaned forward and hissed:
"One false answer, boy, and I'll have your head on these floors before your last breath leaves your lips."
My body shook. Sweat slid down my back. At some point I lost count, but he had hurled question after question—at least thirty, each sharper than the last.
By the end, my knees wanted to buckle. I wanted to vanish, to disappear from his sight.
But then… his eyes changed.
The fire dimmed, replaced by something colder. Calculating.
"You are untrained," he said finally. "But I sense… something."
I dared to look up.
"You will work under me," he declared. "Secretly. Silently. No one beyond my chosen circle will know of it. Refuse—" he leaned forward, voice low and venomous— "and I will not hesitate to snuff your existence before the moon sets."
My lips trembled. What choice did I have?
"…Yes."
The word left me broken.
The Chancellor's gaze lingered, then shifted toward the door. "Elira!"
The doors opened again. She stepped inside, bowing slightly.
"Take him out," the Chancellor commanded. "He has agreed."
Her eyes flicked to me, unreadable. She only nodded. "Yes, Father."
I turned once more to the Chancellor before leaving. He had already bent back over his desk, quill scratching against parchment, as though I were nothing more than another pawn placed on his board.
The doors shut behind me.
And I felt the weight of invisible chains settling around my throat.