The guards came for him at dusk.
Kye sat on the cold floor, hands resting in his lap, heartbeat steady despite the tension knotting his gut. His shackles were still locked, but something about the way they clicked today sounded… final.
The door opened.
Two guards entered, fully armored. Their faces hidden beneath steel helms etched with the Vireon crest—a lion split by a flame.
No words. No threats.
One stepped forward and held out a folded black cloth.
Kye blinked. "You want me to wear that?"
The guard didn't reply.
Kye sighed. "Guess we're doing the whole 'mysterious trial' thing."
He allowed the cloth to be tied over his eyes. Not too tight. Not meant to blind, only to disorient.
Then came the sound of metal on metal—**a new set of shackles**, heavier than before. They locked around his ankles and wrists, forcing him into a slow, restricted shuffle.
Boots flanked him on both sides.
Then—movement.
The journey was long. At least it felt long. Without sight, time stretched like molasses. Every turn, every clang of armor, every creak of torch brackets sounded *louder* than it should've.
The only thing that didn't fade was the burn of **Ember Vein**, quietly coursing beneath his skin.
A weapon, now part of him.
Eventually, the footsteps stopped.
One of the guards grabbed his shoulder and shoved him forward. The blindfold was yanked away.
And Kye's world expanded.
---
The chamber wasn't what he expected.
No high podium. No dark courtroom.
It was a wide, **circular hall**, lit by floating crystal orbs suspended in midair, casting soft white light over every surface. Twelve figures stood spaced evenly around the edges of the room, each wearing long robes and half-masks—some of stone, some of wood, some of bone.
No faces. No names.
Only the **Tribunal**.
And at the center of the room, a lone **black marble chair**.
His chair.
"Approach," a voice echoed.
Kye didn't move.
Then he smiled faintly and shuffled forward, chains clinking with every step. When he reached the chair, he didn't sit right away. He placed one hand on the cold marble armrest, looked around the room, and tilted his head.
"Let me guess," he said. "This is the part where I say something clever, and one of you sighs and calls me arrogant."
A pause.
Then, a voice—female, smooth, sharp. "No. That was Kael."
Kye slowly lowered himself into the chair.
"I figured," he said. "He sounds exhausting."
There were no laughs.
Just silence.
The voice continued: "You will answer twelve questions. Answer truthfully, and your fate will be considered. Lie—and you will know it."
One of the Tribunal members stepped forward and raised a **silver staff**. The crystal on top flared to life—bright blue.
Kye blinked.
> **\[Paradox System Alert: Soul-Sensing Artifact Detected – High Accuracy Lie Detection in Effect]**
Great.
No bluffing today.
The woman spoke again. "Question one. State your name."
Kye's eyes narrowed slightly.
He could say Kael. That would be safe.
But something in his chest rebelled.
He looked up. "Kye."
A murmur ran through the Tribunal.
"That is not your name."
"It is now," he replied calmly.
Another pause. The staff didn't flash red.
No lie.
"Very well. Question two. Do you remember the events that led to your arrest?"
Kye thought back.
Blood. Screaming. A sword. But it wasn't his memory. Not really. More like a distant film running on damaged reels.
"No," he said truthfully. "I remember waking up in the cell. Everything else is… fog."
The staff flared blue.
"Question three. Do you regret what Kael did?"
Kye looked around. "Wouldn't I need to know what he did first?"
Silence.
The voice didn't push. Just moved on.
"Question four. Do you seek power?"
Kye's lips twitched.
"Power is survival," he said. "And I plan to survive."
Blue light.
"Question five. Do you believe you deserve to live?"
This time, he hesitated.
It wasn't a trick question.
It was a **mirror**.
After a long pause, he said: "I don't know yet. Ask me again in seven days."
The staff remained blue.
One of the masked Tribunal members tilted their head. Another shifted slightly. Kye was getting under their skin—or at least into their curiosity.
The sixth question came. "Do you serve the throne?"
Kye leaned back slowly in his chair.
"I don't even know who's sitting on it anymore."
This time, the staff pulsed **red**.
Kye flinched slightly.
The woman's voice darkened. "You do know."
A flash of memory hit him—**the Empress's face** in Kael's vision. Violet eyes. Cold fury.
He shut his eyes. "...Maybe I just don't know how I feel about her yet."
Silence.
The light returned to blue.
---
The rest of the questions came like a storm.
Each sharper. More personal. Probing not just Kael's guilt, but **Kye's core**. His desires. His fears. His sense of identity.
By the end of it, his mind ached, his throat burned, and his soul felt… picked apart.
The twelfth and final question arrived.
"Would you become Kael again, if it meant saving your life?"
Kye's hands clenched around the arms of the chair.
He looked down.
Then answered, softly:
"No."
---
The staff flared **bright blue**.
Then dimmed.
The Tribunal murmured. One voice spoke aloud:
"Assessment complete."
Another voice—darker, older—added: "He is not the boy we remember."
A third whispered: "Then what is he?"
And the woman who asked the questions said only one word:
"...Interesting."
---
As Kye was led away, blindfold returned, he didn't feel like he had passed or failed.
Only that a game had begun.
And he was now **a piece on the board**.