The heavy doors of Heartspire groaned as they closed, stone grinding against stone until the sound of the courtyard vanished completely. Wind, voices, the town beyond, all of it severed in a single, final breath.
Silence followed.
Not peace.
The hall was warmer than outside, lit by suspended crystal lamps that cast long, unmoving shadows across the polished floor. The air carried the faint scent of incense and old stone, but beneath it lingered something sharper, tension that had been waiting, coiled and ready.
A guard halted near the entrance and turned.
His gaze lingered on Kaelric for a fraction longer than necessary before shifting to Daren.
"You," he said shortly. "Wait here."
Daren hesitated. His eyes flicked to Kaelric, confusion and unease tightening his expression.
"Stay," the guard repeated, firmer now.
Daren nodded stiffly and stepped back toward the wall. The guard remained with him as the inner passage opened.
Kaelric crossed the threshold alone.
The doors sealed behind him with a low, echoing thud.
That alone told him this was not a routine summons.
At the far end of the chamber, Thalen sat behind the low stone table, posture rigid, hands braced against its edge as though the weight of his anger needed anchoring. His eyes locked onto Kaelric the moment he stepped forward.
The tea cup beside his hand trembled faintly.
"Kaelric."
The name cracked against the chamber walls, not loud yet, but strained, restrained only by long habit.
"Do you have any idea what you have done?"
Kaelric stopped at the marked line etched into the floor and lifted his gaze evenly. His head throbbed faintly, the echo of the cave's backlash still pulsing behind his temples, but his posture did not waver.
"Do you understand," Thalen continued, rising slowly to his feet, "what it means when the clan leader is forced to hear explanations from outside his own halls?"
Kaelric opened his mouth. "Clan leader, I-"
"I am not finished."
Thalen stepped out from behind the table, boots striking stone with measured force.
"You lied to Seryn's family about the two reagents," he said. "You vanished without word. You left elders guessing whether you were injured, captured, or dead."
His voice tightened.
"For two days, Kaelric. Two."
His hand struck the table.
The tea cup rattled violently, liquid sloshing over its rim.
Aurella stepped forward then, her movement careful, deliberate. She did not raise her voice.
"I saw him, Clan Leader," she said quietly. "He missed morning training. I encountered him later that afternoon near the lower terraces. He had blood on his arm. He tried to conceal it."
Her eyes flicked briefly toward Kaelric, then returned to Thalen.
"He said he had encountered a three-antlered deer."
The words landed heavier than any shouted accusation.
Thalen turned sharply. His gaze moved from Aurella back to Kaelric, and something shifted within it, not anger alone now, but calculation.
"And Elder Averith," Thalen said.
From the side of the hall, Averith stepped forward, expression composed.
"When Kaelric passed earlier," she said, "there was residue in his aperture. Dark-Path. It was recent." She offered no judgment.
Thalen nodded once.
Then he looked directly at Kaelric.
"There are no three-antlered deer within Stoneheart's inner forest," Thalen said. "You searched that region with your cousin Edran before. You did not find even one."
Silence gathered between them.
Kaelric did not answer immediately.
His jaw set. His gaze stayed level.
Then he spoke. "I was testing my Dark Path attainment."
The words came without defense.
Thalen studied him for a long moment.
Then: "Hand over the Dark Claws."
Kaelric reached into his aperture and placed the Relic onto the stone table. The metal-like obsidion claw clicked softly against polished surface.
Thalen did not touch it.
"You will remain here," Thalen said.
He turned toward the entrance.
"I will hear from the other witness."
The massive doors of Heartspire opened again.
Cold daylight spilled across pale stone.
Thalen stepped through first.
His outer robes were washed in muted saffron, fabric heavy and clean, falling straight from narrow shoulders. Age had thinned him, but it had not bent him. He moved without haste or stiffness, each step placed with quiet certainty.
He stopped several paces from Daren.
The guard began to follow.
"Patrol," Thalen said without looking back.
The man hesitated, then bowed and withdrew.
Daren stood alone.
His spine tightened.
The fine hairs along his neck lifted.
Thalen regarded him.
"Where were you," he asked, "and what were you doing?"
Daren swallowed.
His fingers curled against his robe, fabric creasing in his grip before he forced them still.
"In the forest."
"What for."
"A resource."
Thalen waited. "What resource?"
Daren's mouth opened. Closed.
"I… I don't remember."
Thalen's gaze did not change.
"Did Kaelric use a Dark Path Relic?"
Daren nodded too quickly. "Yes."
"To do what."
Another pause.
His hands clenched.
"I think… to make something."
"And why were you there."
Daren's voice dropped.
"I helped."
His voice barely carried.
That was all.
Thalen watched him for a moment longer.
"You will listen carefully," Thalen said.
Daren nodded too fast.
"From this moment onward, you do not speak to Kaelric. Not a word. And you do not repeat anything you have seen, heard, or inferred that day. To anyone."
Daren swallowed hard.
"One slip," Thalen continued, voice level, "and the consequences will fall on you alone."
"Yes, Clan Leader," Daren said hoarsely, bowing deeply.
Then Thalen turned.
Back inside the chamber, Thalen exhaled sharply and paced once before facing Kaelric again.
"You are the clan's prodigy," Thalen said, restraint finally cracking. "The only A-grade of your generation."
His voice rose, echoing against the vaulted ceiling.
"And you treat your responsibilities like a child playing at secrets?"
He took another step closer.
"Or have you grown so arrogant that you think consequence no longer applies?"
Then his voice dropped.
"And now I hear whispers that you experiment with the Dark Path."
The chamber seemed to tighten.
"A Stoneheart prodigy. A righteous-path cultivator. Dabbling in demonic methods." His jaw clenched. "Do you have any idea what that means? If other clans learn of this, the righteous sects will descend upon us like a storm, not for justice, but because they will smell weakness."
His gaze flicked briefly toward Aurella.
She stood straight-backed, hands folded, loyalty to her father and the clan etched into every line of her posture, yet her eyes betrayed something unsettled. Curiosity. Concern. Doubt.
She had seen enough to suspect direction. Not enough to name it.
Thalen turned away, then back.
"Until after the Frostyard Trials," he said, voice measured now, "you will remain within Heartspire. No excursions. No hunting. No vanishing."
Thalen stepped forward and placed a hand against Kaelric's chest.
His brow furrowed.
Dark essence stirred faintly beneath his palm.
Thalen withdrew his hand slowly. His breathing grew heavy.
"And now your aperture reeks of dark essence. You do not meddle with that path. Do you hear me? Never again."
Kaelric said nothing.
"You are banned from the Relic treasury," Thalen said sharply. "Effective immediately. If you require resources, you go through me or Orven. You disappear again, and I will bring this before the council myself."
Silence stretched.
Dust motes drifted lazily through shafts of light.
Somewhere deeper in Heartspire, footsteps passed. Young voices echoed briefly through a side corridor, laughter muffled by stone before discipline reclaimed the halls.
Kaelric closed his eyes.
"At least I have time now," he thought distantly. "To refine the Vitalis Amplifier. Refinement would be simple. Materials were the true obstacle."
Not surrender.
Quiet.
When he opened them again, his voice was calm.
"I understand."
Thalen hesitated.
Some of the heat drained from his expression.
Kaelric turned and moved past the low table, ascending the narrow inner stair toward his assigned room.
Inside the hall, Aurella remained.
Her eyes followed Kaelric's departing figure, taking in the restraint in his movements, the absence of hesitation, the faint trace of dried blood along his temple.
She did not speak.
But curiosity simmered quietly behind her gaze.
Kaelric did not turn.