The sun had begun its slow descent when Rowan turned the car toward the long, winding road leading to the Ravenshade home. Evening light brushed across the windshield in warm streaks; the sky glowed a deep orange that thinned into lavender. The city felt restless beneath the colors—streets buzzing with murmurs and uneasy silence mixed together.
Kael leaned his head against the window, half-listening to the hum of the engine. Zara sat beside him, her small fingers intertwined with his as though afraid he would vanish again. Rowan drove quietly, his face thoughtful, eyes darting to every crowd forming on the streets.
Finn's house had faded far behind them, swallowed by the turning roads and bending paths of Eryndor's residential district.
Rowan exhaled slowly. "There's more noise than usual today."
Kael sensed it too. A strange thrum in the air, like the pulse of an approaching storm—except the sky held no clouds.
Zara peeked over the front seat. "Papa, is something happening in the city?"
Rowan didn't answer immediately.
His jaw tightened.
Kael felt it—Rowan rarely showed fear, and when he did, it meant something was deeply wrong.
"We'll reach home soon," Rowan finally said, gentle but strained. "Stay close. Don't look outside too much, alright?"
Zara nodded, though she didn't fully understand.
Kael, however, did.
Because the closer they drove toward the southern stretch of the main road, the louder the voices grew.
People shouting.
People chanting.
Feet stamping.
The air shivered with intensity.
Zara turned her head toward the window. "There are so many people…"
Rowan's eyes flicked toward the side mirror. "Don't look out, Zara. Keep your eyes forward."
But children were always drawn to chaos—the raw hum of it. She leaned slightly anyway.
Kael followed her gaze despite Rowan's warning.
The road curved—and then the view opened into a wide public square near the execution grounds.
A massive crowd occupied the street—thousands of people crushed shoulder to shoulder, lanterns burning in their hands, banners swinging wildly. The air was thick with heat and dust and something darker—hunger. A hunger for justice, or what they believed to be justice.
Torches glowed like fireflies trapped in a swarm. Spirit-lamps lined the edges, casting eerie blue shadows across the crowd.
Zara whispered, barely audible, "Papa… why are they screaming?"
Rowan's grip tightened on the wheel. "Don't look. Both of you. Face forward."
Kael didn't obey.
Because he heard the words rising from the center of the mob—raw, burning, tearing through the air with the power of collective rage:
"WE GOT JUSTICE!"
"WE GOT JUSTICE!"
"THE MONSTER IS DEAD!"
The cry rolled over them like a wave of fire.
Zara flinched, covering her ears.
Rowan lowered his voice. "Kael, turn away."
But Kael couldn't.
Because the moment the chanting filled his ears… something inside him sharpened. A subtle shift—like the world had become clearer, harsher. The shouting blurred into a single note of falsehood.
He felt it.
He knew it.
He whispered, almost to himself, "No… They didn't kill him."
Rowan stiffened.
Zara turned to him with wide, confused eyes. "Brother?"
Kael stared at the platform in the distance—a raised stone platform draped in red banners. The execution site. The shape tied to the post, the blade that had supposedly fallen a minute earlier, the people cheering for revenge.
But it was wrong.
The air around the platform shimmered faintly, like heat waves rising from a hot road.
A distortion.
Subtle.
Deliberate.
Illusory.
Especially visible to someone whose senses had always been sharper than others.
Kael's voice slipped out again, louder this time.
"They didn't kill him."
Rowan inhaled sharply. "Kael."
"They didn't," Kael insisted, eyes locked on the stage. "That's not him. They cast an Illusion Spirit Art. The crowd is seeing what they want them to see."
Zara grabbed his sleeve. "Kael… stop…"
Kael didn't stop.
"Where is the real criminal?" he whispered, eyes narrowing. "Why hide him? Why—"
Rowan's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Kael. Enough."
Kael finally looked toward his father—
—and Rowan's face said everything.
Fear.
Not of Kael.
But for him.
Rowan Ravenshade was a retired Sentinel. He had seen what the powerful could do. He understood illusions better than anyone. He recognized danger before most could blink.
He knew Kael had spoken a truth that should never be spoken aloud in public.
Rowan inhaled shakily. "Kael, listen to me. Do not—"
But it was too late.
Because the next shout did not come from the crowd.
It came from a cold voice at the edge of the road.
"STOP THAT CAR!"
The order cracked through the air like thunder.
Rowan's hands froze on the wheel.
A wall of armored soldiers—at least two hundred of them—materialized from every direction. Heavy spirit armor glinted silver and black, each soldier holding spears charged with faint elemental energy. Their helmets masked everything except their eyes—cold, sharpened, and trained for violence.
Kael felt Zara grip his arm tightly.
Rowan whispered, "Don't move."
A soldier slammed his spear against the ground.
"You there! Stop the carriage!"
Rowan slowly halted the car.
More soldiers poured in, blocking both ends of the street. The crowd itself backed away, parting like a frightened ocean—some cheering, some confused.
Kael felt his heartbeat thundering in his ears.
Finn wasn't here now.
Only Rowan.
And Zara.
One soldier stepped forward—an officer with a crimson sash marking him as high-ranking. His expression was unreadable.
"Your passenger," the officer said sharply, pointing. "The boy. Take him."
Zara gasped. "No!"
Rowan's door flew open—
Rowan leapt out instantly, positioning himself between the officer and the car.
His voice was calm but laced with steel. "By whose order do you arrest a child?"
The officer smirked faintly. "By order of His Majesty. The boy spoke a dangerous falsehood."
Kael's heart sank.
This wasn't about him.
This was about what he knew.
What he saw.
Rowan's voice lowered, dark. "He is twelve. He is a student. He has no connection to—"
"Silence," the officer snapped. "The child dared to question the legitimacy of a royal execution. He accused the crown of deception."
Kael's stomach twisted.
Zara sobbed softly, "Papa… do something…"
Rowan's hand clenched.
He took one step forward. "You have no proof. He said nothing but—"
"Arrest him," the officer barked.
Swords unsheathed with a metallic roar.
Rowan inhaled sharply, the air trembling around him with a faint pressure.
Kael realized what was happening.
Rowan was preparing to fight.
But two hundred soldiers stood before them, fully armed, illusions flickering subtly around their blades. If Rowan fought, he would be killed. And Zara would watch it happen.
Kael felt something heavy crack inside him.
He stepped out of the car slowly, before Rowan could react.
Zara screamed, "KAEL!"
Rowan's eyes widened with pain. "Kael—no!"
Kael met his father's gaze calmly, even though his knees trembled. "If I don't go… they'll kill you. They'll hurt Zara. I can't let that happen."
Rowan's expression broke—raw, trembling fury and fear mixing.
The officer smirked. "The boy understands his place. Good."
Rowan moved instantly, trying to block Kael, but several soldiers pointed spears at his throat.
"Step back," one of them warned.
Rowan's breath came out ragged. "If you lay a hand on my son—"
"Your son questioned the crown," the officer said coldly. "He will be examined. Perhaps punished."
Zara burst into tears, clutching Kael's sleeve. "No! Kael! Don't go!"
Kael knelt in front of her, hands shaking.
"Zara… listen to me. You must go home with Papa. Don't follow. Don't come after me."
Her tears fell faster. "No! No, no, no—Kael, don't leave again! I just got you back!"
Kael hugged her tightly, feeling her small body shaking.
Rowan's voice nearly cracked. "Kael, please. Stay in the car. I will— I will negotiate. I will talk to the magistrates. Just—"
Kael looked up at him.
And for the first time, Rowan saw something in his son's eyes that terrified him—
Conviction.
"I saw it, Papa," Kael whispered. "The man wasn't killed. It was an Illusion Spirit Art. They… lied to everyone."
Rowan's throat clenched. "Kael—some truths should not be said aloud. Not in this city, not under this king."
"I know," Kael whispered. "And I still said it."
Rowan closed his eyes briefly, fighting against the pain of knowing he couldn't save his son from what came next.
Two soldiers grabbed Kael's arms roughly.
Rowan roared, "GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM!"
Five more soldiers immediately forced Rowan to the ground, pinning his arms, pressing a knee into his back.
Zara screamed, trying to run toward Kael, but Rowan shouted desperately, "ZARA, STOP! Stay back!"
Kael twisted his body to look at them.
Zara's small hands were outstretched, tears streaming.
Rowan's face was pressed to the ground, his eyes burning with helpless fury.
"Papa! KAEL!" Zara shrieked.
Kael shouted through the pressure on his chest, "Papa! Take care of Zara! I'll be okay!"
"You won't be!" Rowan roared. "Kael—listen to me—listen—don't let them take you!"
The officer nodded to his men.
"Blindfold him. Bind his hands. He is to be taken immediately."
Kael felt a rough cloth tighten over his eyes.
Darkness swallowed the world.
He heard Zara's sobs.
He heard Rowan struggle.
He heard spears press against the ground.
The officer's voice came from somewhere ahead.
"Let this serve as a reminder. No one questions the king."
Kael felt himself being dragged forward.
The air around him trembled.
But the last thing he heard before the world became footsteps and shouting soldiers—
Was Rowan's voice, breaking apart:
"KAEL! I WILL FIND YOU! I SWEAR IT!"