The music had stopped.
The masquerade was over, but the real game was just beginning.
Aaron walked slowly down the candlelit corridor of the royal palace. His mask—half-cracked from the heat of his silent kill—hung loosely in his hand. His breath remained steady, but beneath his skin, the fire hummed like a warning.
A voice emerged from the shadows.
"Effective. Quiet. Almost merciful."
Aaron didn't flinch.
Lucien stepped into view, his golden mask still in place. Only his mouth moved—calm, amused.
"But mercy," he said, "was never your nature, was it?"
---
Aaron faced him.
"You followed me here?"
Lucien smiled faintly. "No, Aaron. I arrived before you. Always."
Silence.
Lucien stepped closer.
"You've learned to aim the flame. But not to direct it."
"You burned a man for what he did. What will you do when you have to burn someone… for what they will do?"
Aaron's eyes narrowed.
"You're not here to provoke me."
"No. I'm here to remind you."
"Every mask breaks, eventually."
Lucien turned and vanished into a swirl of soot.
---
The next morning, two royal guards stood at Aaron's door.
"By order of the Crown Council, you are summoned to the throne chamber. Immediate compliance expected."
Aaron said nothing.
He followed.
---
The throne room was vast, cold, filled with smiles that hid blades.
At its center: the Crown Council—unmasked this time, their faces unreadable.
A judge stepped forward.
"Aaron Hotveil, son of no house, bearer of the Skyborn flame. A man died last night under unnatural circumstances. Do you deny involvement?"
Aaron looked up, calm.
"No."
A stir. Gasps. Whispers.
"And do you regret your action?"
A pause.
Aaron said:
"Only that it was clean."
---
The council conferred in low tones.
Then the eldest rose.
"You will remain within the royal district until further notice."
"Your flame is not yet condemned… but it is watched."
As Aaron turned to leave, a guard whispered:
"They're not afraid of what you did. They fear what you'll make others believe they can do."
---
That night, Aaron stood on the palace balcony, flames flickering across his knuckles.
Ashen stood behind him, silent.
"They fear you now," the boy said.
Aaron nodded.
"Good."
"But will you burn their world… or build it?"
Aaron said nothing.
Not yet.