"A trial? That's it? You dragged me here for a trial? Laughable."
"You will stand trial for unethical experiments and for the threat you pose to this world," intoned a voice from the thrones.
"And you expect me to just stand here and take it?" Veyne snapped. He turned for the door, hand on the handle—but paused. His fist clenched midair. A gloomy purple vortex opened above his shoulder and a skeletal arm reached through. It grasped the door. Gold runes flared along the frame and a crackling rip of light vaporized the arm before it could touch the handle.
Silence. Veyne surveyed the council with cold indifference. Sweat beads formed on the brows of the younger delegates. One stammered.
"Y-you can't leave. W-we declared a trial—"
"That's enough, Brother Matias." Theiton cut him off with a single wave.
"As Lady Breanne has said, you are a danger. The Divine Council will deal with you."
Veyne let a dark pulse wash through the hall; marble darkened where the energy touched. Elaina drew her sword, aura crackling.
"You damn fools," Veyne said. "If you make an enemy of me, so be it. By your laws, I've done nothing worth death. What can you convince the public of that they don't already suspect?"
"Why, the truth," Breanne replied, voice edged like a blade. "We will convict you of murdering a Divine Council member."
"What? I would never—studying your magic is one thing, murder another. And even if you kill me, I come back. You can't stop what I do."
"As Sir Theiton said, we planned. We have prepared for this for five years."
"Five years? You think five years is enough? Duskhold is a fortress beyond imagining. Even if you send every soldier—"
The older delegates were unflinching; the younger looked sorrowful. Theiton stood, cleared his throat, and the chamber went still.
"Elaina, bring Brother Francis forward."
A murmur rippled through the hall. Elaina crossed to the infant's seat, lifted him, and returned to center. The baby wailed, a tiny, helpless sound. Veyne's eyes narrowed; realization clawed at him. He took a step back—then noticed the one council member who hadn't stood: a teenage girl, Marie, trembling with tears.
"Please," Marie sobbed. "We don't have to—"
"Hold your tongue, Sister Marie! We voted. This is necessary," another snapped. Marie wiped her face, voice barely audible. "Yes, Father Theiton."
Veyne's blood ran cold. He understood then—horrifyingly and too late.
"Stop this!" he shouted. "I will kill that baby if I must."
They chanted as one. Palms out, the council formed spheres of divine light around the infant. The air thickened; time seemed to slow. Veyne lunged, claws slashing for the child, but the motion was already sealed. Marie's hand trembled—then followed the others. The infant flared brilliant white and was transmuted into a beam of pure light that shot through the marble ceiling like a spear.
"NO! What have you done?" Veyne roared.
"What needed to be done," Breanne said, calm and unblinking.
Suddenly Veyne's mind split into a vision—a fragmented perception of a skeleton horseman riding the misted plains beyond Duskhold. He watched himself, remote and helpless, gallop toward the castle. Above Duskold, the sky opened. The beam—born of the infant's sacrifice—poured down like a sun unmade. It struck the fortress in a white, terrible pillar. Walls, towers, everything within the grounds atomized. The light expanded outward until the horseman was consumed as well.
Veyne snapped back to the chamber, kneeling, one hand pressed over his eye. Rage and grief warred across his face as he rose. Clenched fists shook.
"Lady Breanne—confirm the destruction of Duskhold and the eradication of all traces," Theiton said.
Breanne broke a small crystal on her throne. Her eyes dimmed for a heartbeat, then returned. "Confirmed, sir Theiton."
A smile crept across Theiton's face despite his earlier sternness. He recovered composure quickly. "Excellent. We shall now proceed with the trial of Veyne Moregrove." He gestured to the hall. "All in favor say 'aye.'"
"Aye."
"For the murder of Divine Council member sixteen, Francis Price, and for threatening the peace of this world, we fifteen delegates find you guilty and sentence you to permanent death. All in favor say 'aye.'"
"Aye."
At the vote, Theiton nodded toward Elaina. Her eyes flashed—matching the excitement on her father's face—and she leapt forward, blade drawn and crackling with red lightning.