The streets of Everhart glowed with lantern light, flickering gold against stone and shadow. Carriages rolled past, vendors packed away stalls, yet in one square the night gathered thick and alive. Not for a feast, not for a performance, but for a single woman who moved through the crowd like a star among candles.
Kayla.
Her gown tonight was simple compared to the brilliance of the council, but on her it seemed radiant. A basket of bread swung lightly from her arm, and in her hand she held a child's fingers, small and dirty, guiding him forward. She knelt gracefully, handing him a loaf.
"Eat, little one," she whispered, her smile bright as dawn. "Everhart's strength lies in its children. If they thrive, we all do."
The boy's eyes shone. He clutched the bread, running back to his mother, who clasped him with tears in her eyes.
The crowd rippled with murmurs:
"She's unlike the rest."
"A noble who walks among us?"
"Look how kind she is…"
"…perhaps she's the leader we've needed."
From the shadows at the edge of the square, Nia watched. Her silver cloak shimmered faintly under the moon, her staff held low to dim its glow. Andy stood at her side, jaw tight, fists clenched.
"She's playing them," he hissed, voice low. "This isn't kindness—it's theatre."
Nia's eyes narrowed, her own aura sparking faintly. Arcane Detection. Threads shimmered into her vision—subtle golden strands seeping from Kayla, weaving into the hearts of those around her. Not overwhelming, not forceful, but gentle, addictive, like the warmth of sunlight after a storm. And within that glow, she saw it—corruption. Divine. Poison masked as grace.
"She's not just playing them," Nia whispered. "She's binding them."
Andy's fists clenched harder. "Then why can't they see it?"
"Because corruption doesn't come as claws," Nia said bitterly. "It comes as love."
Kayla's voice rose—not loud, yet it carried as though the night bent to hear her.
"Everhart deserves more than titles and empty promises," she said. "It deserves leaders who walk its streets, who protect not with words, but with hearts. Do you not agree?"
Cheers swelled, hesitant at first, then growing. Mothers clutched their children, merchants raised their hands, guards shifted uncertainly.
Andy felt heat crawl up his spine. "She's stealing them, Nia. One smile at a time."
Nia's grip tightened on her staff. "Then we remind them who we are."
She stepped forward. The crystal tip of her staff glowed, silver light spilling across the square, cool and steady against Kayla's golden warmth. The crowd gasped, turning.
"My people," Nia called, her voice clear, sharp as moonlight on steel. "Everhart does not endure because of theatre. It endures because we protect one another. Because we bleed for one another. Because we forge bonds in truth, not performance."
Murmurs rippled. Some nodded, but others frowned, confused, caught between two lights.
Kayla smiled, bowing her head as if humbled. "Lady Nia speaks with passion, as always," she said sweetly. "But passion burns brightest before it fades. Let us pray hers never falters."
The crowd stirred, whispers blooming like weeds:
"She's right… passion fades."
"But Lady Nia has always protected us."
"Kayla is here with us now, Nia speaks from afar."
Andy's chest twisted. Every doubt cut deeper than a blade. He wanted to roar, to strike—but politics was not his battlefield. Still, he could not stand idle. He stepped forward, standing tall beside Nia. The crowd flinched, whispers sharpened.
"That's him…"
"The dragonblood."
"Dangerous."
"…but he fought for us."
"…he saved us."
Tension coiled like a drawn bow. Nia felt it, so she grasped Andy's hand, holding it high.
"Our bond is not a spectacle," she declared. "It is Everhart's strength. Fire tempered by light. Light strengthened by fire. You saw it. You felt it. The System itself affirmed it."
Their joined hands blazed. Flame licked from Andy's palm, spiraling into silver light from Nia's staff. The resonance shimmered across the square, warm and real, no illusion. The crowd gasped. Some stepped back in awe, others forward in hope.
Kayla's smile never cracked, but her golden eyes narrowed a fraction, tension buried deep. She clapped softly. "Beautiful," she murmured. "So beautiful. May it last as long as the stars allow."
The crowd split further—half murmuring in awe, half doubtful, torn between warmth and light, between trust and charm.
The System's voice stirred in their minds.
System Notice: Public Influence Countered.
Foreign Resonance detected – ongoing.
Bond Progression: Star 2 – 32%.
Andy exhaled sharply, sweat on his brow. The glow faded from his palm, but Kayla's presence lingered, her laughter like a soft chain curling around the people.
She turned, walking away with her followers, golden light trailing faintly.
Nia squeezed Andy's hand. Her voice was low, fierce. "She's weaving a web. Every smile, every loaf of bread, every word—it's a thread. By the time they realize, she'll have bound them completely."
Andy's jaw tightened. "Then we burn her web before it closes."
Nia's eyes met his, silver fire burning. "Together."
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