The chains bit into Kael's wrists as the knights dragged him through the plaza.
The crowd that had once cheered Lyra's ascension now hissed and spat as he passed. Some hurled rotten fruit, others holy charms, as if he were plague itself.
"Hollow thief!"
"Blasphemer!"
"Monster!"
Kael kept his eyes down. His arms throbbed where the molten light of the beast had scorched him, yet the faint glow of stolen fire still pulsed beneath his skin.
They feared him. And in some corner of his heart, he feared himself too.
The knights shoved him into the grand temple — pillars of white marble stretching toward stained glass heavens. Golden firelight spilled across the altar where the High Priest stood waiting, his staff aglow with righteous fury.
The entire city had gathered inside, shoulder to shoulder, their voices rising like a storm. At the center of it all, Kael knelt in chains.
The High Priest's voice boomed:
"Seventeen years ago, the gods decreed this boy Hollow. Today he has proven why. The power he wields is not divine — it is stolen. Corrupt. Heretical."
The crowd roared in agreement.
Kael clenched his teeth. Stolen? He hadn't chosen this. He hadn't asked for it. He had just tried to save lives.
A flicker of golden wings caught his eye.
Lyra stood among the priestesses, trembling. Her lips pressed tight, as though she wanted to speak — but the fear in her eyes was undeniable.
Kael's chest tightened. He wanted to call out to her, to tell her he wasn't the monster they claimed. But the words stuck in his throat.
The High Priest lifted his staff high.
"By decree of the heavens, Kael Ardent is condemned. He shall be executed before sunset, and his corrupted soul returned to the void."
The plaza erupted into wild cheers, as though the death of a single boy would cleanse the world.
Kael bowed his head. Chains rattled around his wrists. His fate had been sealed the moment the shard entered him.
And yet…
Something in him refused to kneel.
The temple doors thundered open.
A knight stepped through — tall, armored in silver etched with divine runes, his presence enough to silence even the wildest voices. His hair was the color of steel, his eyes sharp as forged blades.
Sir Serath, bearer of the Oath of Blades. The High Priest's champion.
He stopped before Kael, resting his hand on the hilt of a greatsword that pulsed with living light.
"This," Serath said coldly, "is the Hollow?"
"He is more than Hollow," the High Priest spat. "He is a thief of Oaths. See to his end, Sir Serath."
The knight studied Kael for a long moment. Then, in one fluid motion, he drew his blade.
The crowd held its breath.
Serath's sword glowed with an aura so sharp it seemed to cut the very air. He leveled it at Kael's throat.
"You have taken power not meant for you," Serath said. His voice was calm, yet every word struck like a hammer. "A Hollow who dares mock the gods. Tell me, boy… do you have any last words?"
Kael raised his head slowly. His chains rattled as he met Serath's piercing gaze.
For the first time since the Eclipse began, he let his lips curve into a faint, defiant smile.
"Yeah," Kael said. His voice was hoarse but steady.
"If the gods wanted me powerless… they should've killed me when they had the chance."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Serath's eyes narrowed. The knight tightened his grip, blade poised to strike—
➡️ Cliffhanger: Chapter 2 ends with Serath about to execute Kael, blade descending, as the shard inside Kael flares with forbidden power once more.