The Chrollena Capital, Same Day as the First Storm
When the runes failed in Pyrehold, the ripple reached the throne before the frost did.
Emperor Halvane sat upon a throne carved from obsidian and stitched with soulsteel. His robes shimmered with Imperial gold, his eyes colder than any mountain wind. The chamber was silent as a lone magister, pale with fear, finished his report.
"She stirred," the magister said. "The collar cracked. The Vault froze—almost entirely."
Halvane did not speak.
The magister continued, his voice dry. "They say the guardian spirit has taken full form. The white serpent… Kaelith."
Still, the Emperor said nothing.
Only when the flames in the wall sconces dimmed — reacting to some unseen pressure from the Emperor's presence — did he rise from the throne.
"Who was on watch?" he asked.
The magister hesitated. "A… knight. Toy Crimson."
Halvane's brow lifted. "The Crimson Traitor?"
"He was assigned Watch Guard duty, yes. Five months ago."
"Survived the Cataclysm of Valtress. Survived the Scorched Valley. Survived the Primordial Trials." The Emperor's voice had the quiet rhythm of memory. "We should have buried him under medals. Instead, we gave him the Vault."
"He volunteered, Your Majesty."
"No one volunteers for her."
The room fell into heavy silence.
Then Halvane spoke the words that would darken the Empire's skies.
"She is to be executed."
The magister flinched. "Your Grace, with respect—her power is unstable. If we act rashly, she could—"
"She is awake," Halvane cut in. "Which means she remembers. Which means everything we buried, everything we broke… is unburying itself."
He stepped down from his throne, every footstep as deliberate as a verdict.
"I want a contingent of the Royal Thaumaturge Guard dispatched to Pyrehold immediately. With spell-forged weapons. Meteoritum-tipped spears. Null-binders."
He turned, cloak sweeping like a shadow.
"And I want Crimson brought back in chains."
Pyrehold, That Night
Toy sat beside Lara, who was asleep — truly asleep this time. Her breathing was steady, her body still radiating chill, but no longer violently. Kaelith curled behind her, tail twitching occasionally like a dreaming animal.
Toy ran a thumb across the remnants of the meteoritum collar.
Just fragments now.
Dead metal.
He knew the Empire would come. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe an hour from now.
They'd never let her live.
And they'd never let him stay near her.
He heard the cell gate unlock. A rare thing.
Only one person had the authority to do that without sounding every alarm.
Warden Vyle.
The man stepped in without expression, holding a scroll sealed in black wax.
"Crimson," he said.
Toy stood, quietly, as Kaelith's eyes flicked open.
"I'm not surprised," Toy said.
"The decree came less than six hours after the runes failed."
"Execution?"
Vyle nodded. "By dusk. Within two days."
Toy looked over his shoulder at Lara. "And me?"
"Detainment. For treason. The Emperor suspects… sympathy."
Toy let out a breath that wasn't quite a laugh.
"Sympathy's a poor word for it."
Vyle frowned. "You don't have to die with her."
"I didn't survive this long to die," Toy said, stepping forward. "I survived this long to choose who I'd die for."
Vyle studied him for a long time.
Then, to Toy's surprise, he extended the scroll.
"The order isn't effective until the High Binding Council confirms it."
Toy narrowed his eyes. "Why are you giving me this?"
Vyle hesitated. "Because I've seen the reports. The dreams. The state you found her in. You didn't chain a monster. You woke a woman."
"And?"
Vyle turned away. "And if you don't run… she dies. And you die. And Pyrehold will be covered in so much ice we'll never find your bones."
He paused at the door.
"I've kept the south exit unlocked. Until sunrise."
Then he was gone.
Toy looked back at Lara.
She was still sleeping.
Still hers.
Still dangerous.
He knelt, brushed a curl of silver from her cheek, and whispered:
"I'm not letting them take you."
Kaelith opened one glowing eye.
Toy nodded to the serpent.
"Help me wake her."