The summons came before dawn.
Raien barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the echo of burning jaws snapping shut, heard the Wyrm's low, satisfied rumble curling through his ribs.
You did well, it murmured lazily.
"Shut up," Raien whispered.
Iron bells rang across the compound.
Disciplinary call.
The Tribunal Chamber was older than the Realm itself—its walls carved with scars instead of symbols. No warmth lived here.
Raien stood alone in the center.
Mira and Kael were seated behind the barrier line. Mira's jaw was tight, eyes conflicted. Kael's expression was unreadable—but his attention never left Raien.
The elders entered one by one.
"This hearing concerns the unauthorized release of a sealed entity," Elder Karesh announced. "Resulting in catastrophic Astra discharge."
Raien swallowed.
"Do you deny this?"
"No," Raien said. "But people were going to die."
A murmur rippled.
"Heroics do not excuse heresy," Karesh snapped. "You violated pre-Sundering prohibitions."
"I didn't even know what it was!" Raien shot back.
"That," another elder said coldly, "is precisely the problem."
A cane struck stone.
Tap. Tap.
Master Oruin stepped forward.
He wore no cloak now. Only scarred armor and a blade snapped clean in half at the hilt.
"You're all pretending to be shocked," Oruin said. "Don't insult the dead by lying."
Karesh's eyes narrowed. "Careful."
"I've been careful for thirty years," Oruin replied. "That's how the Sundering happened."
Silence fell.
Oruin turned to Raien. "Tell them what you felt."
Raien hesitated. Then—"It wasn't rage. It wasn't hunger. It was… pressure. Like holding the sun underwater."
A few elders shifted uncomfortably.
"Resonance," Oruin said. "Not possession."
"That entity is ancient," Karesh argued. "Unstable."
"So were we," Oruin said quietly. "Once."
Oruin lifted the broken blade.
"This was mine," he said. "It shattered the day the Realms turned on each other."
Mira's breath caught.
"You were there," she whispered.
Oruin nodded. "I watched heroes become executioners. I watched seals fail because fear wrote them."
He looked at the elders. "And I watched a child like Raien get buried alive—because he was inconvenient."
The chamber erupted.
"That is treason!"
"That is history!" Oruin roared.
The decision crystal flared violently.
"Raien Vale will not be executed," Elder Nima declared. "Nor exiled."
Karesh's fists clenched.
"He will train," Nima continued. "Under Oruin alone. Outside standard doctrine."
A pause.
"If he loses control again," Karesh said slowly, "we end him."
Raien's stomach dropped.
Oruin placed a hand on his shoulder. Heavy. Steady.
"Then we make sure he doesn't," Oruin said.
That night, far beyond the Realm's borders, a masked figure stood atop a spire of black glass.
Seals shimmered around him, replaying the image of the Cinder Wyrm.
"So," the Veiled Sovereign said softly. "The Ashbearer wakes."
He turned toward the horizon.
"Prepare the pieces," he ordered. "The Realms will burn themselves again."