The capital city of Virelyn rose before them—towers carved from obsidian and bone, ringed by walls that bled smoke into the sky.
Arien had never seen it up close. From a distance, it looked like a monument to power. Up close, it looked like a tomb.
Kael stared at the gates in silence.
"This is where you were knighted?" Arien asked.
"Yes," he said. "And where my father died, defending a king who later branded him a traitor."
She said nothing. Some wounds didn't need words.
They entered disguised as dustwalkers—wandering mercenaries. The guards barely looked up as they passed. Virelyn was drowning in its own rot.
Inside the city, whispers followed them.
"Did you hear? The king hasn't shown his face in weeks."
"They say a firemage burned down the north tower."
"No, no—it was a god. A real one."
Kael pulled his cloak tighter. "The cracks are showing."
Joss grinned. "Good. Chaos is opportunity."
That night, in a tavern hidden behind an old chapel, they met an old friend.
Captain Elra—a rebel commander once sworn to Kael's father.
She was missing an eye now, but her spirit was unbroken.
"I heard rumors," she said, pouring wine into clay cups. "That the Phoenix walks again."
She looked at Arien.
"I don't know if I'm a phoenix," Arien replied, "but I'm ready to burn the kingdom down if that's what it takes."
Elra laughed. "That's close enough."
Later, Kael stood on the tavern's balcony, watching the palace lights flicker in the dark.
Arien joined him.
"Did you love him?" she asked. "The king?"
Kael nodded slowly. "He was like a second father to me. Until I saw what he really was."
"Which is?"
Kael's jaw tightened. "A man who'd burn a thousand innocents to keep one lie alive."
He turned to her.
"And we're going to bury him beneath that lie."
In the palace, the King of Virelyn stared into a mirror. His face was hollow, drawn.
Behind him, a shadow moved. A whisper passed through the room like a cold breath.
> "They come for you, liar."
The king turned—and for a moment, his eyes were filled with terror.