The house was quiet, except for the heavy breathing of those inside and the distant sounds of screams outside.
Torches still flickered beyond the window. The sky glowed faint orange from the fires spreading through the city. Yet inside Cael's home, the crew sat in silence, gathered around a worn table, blood and soot staining their clothes.
"We can't just sit here," Reva said first, pacing the room. "Something's happening that we don't understand. This isn't a rebellion. This isn't a rogue spell. This is something else."
"No one in the streets. No horns. No guards. No orders. The city's blind," Fen muttered.
"It's not just the city," Torric added. "You saw that mage back there—he was casting ice like his life depended on it. Then suddenly he collapsed and turned like the others. That wasn't panic. That was… transformation."
"What the hell is it?" Cael asked, wiping blood from his mouth again, hunched forward in his seat. "It spreads like fire, like plague. But through magic? Through wounds?"
Ravik crossed his arms. "It started after the Great Healing. Maybe something went wrong during the ritual."
"But no one saw what happened inside the altar," Reva muttered. "We just heard the explosion."
"Could've been demons," Fen suggested. "But then again… if it was the demons, why now? Why not during the war? Why not when we were weakest?"
That hung heavy in the air.
They all remembered the war. Ten long years. If the demons had anything like this—they would've used it.
"And if the castle hasn't responded by now," Torric said, his voice low, "then it's not because they're too slow."
"It's because they're gone," Reva said, quietly.
Everyone turned to look at her.
Cael's breath hitched again, and he doubled over, coughing—wet and red.
Ravik knelt beside him quickly, holding his shoulder. "Breathe slow."
Cael nodded weakly, wiping his mouth.
"I don't like this," Ravik said. "If the capital's gone quiet, we need to know what's happening. Nyric."
The foxkin was already standing near the window, alert.
"You have the best eyes. Get to the roof. See what you can from here."
Without a word, Nyric slipped out the back window and scaled the low wall beside the house. His feet made no sound as he climbed. The others sat in silence, the creak of the beams above the only sound.
Moments later, a sharp voice came down from the rooftop.
"…Smoke."
Ravik stood up, stepping outside. "What do you see?"
Nyric's voice was strained now. "The castle. The main citadel. It's… burning."
The silence was heavier than before.
No one moved.
"No signals. No banners. No evacuation," he continued. "It's not just fire. The streets near the walls are crawling with movement—things that aren't marching like soldiers."
Cael sat back, eyes hollow.
"The castle has fallen," Fen said flatly.
"And with it," Ravik said, "every noble. Every king. Every priest."
"Not all of them," Reva said, voice trembling. "Some of them could've escaped, right?"
"Not if it started inside," Torric answered. "They were all gathered close."
No one said anything for a long moment.
The last line of light from the window flickered as a new pillar of smoke climbed the sky.