My Fake Engagement With The Villainess Turned Real
Chapter 20: The Astral Judgment Hall
The colossal doors to the Astral Judgment Hall creaked ominously as they closed behind us, a sound reminiscent of fate itself sealing a decree with finality. The echo reverberated throughout the vast cavernous expanse, snuffing out any flicker of hope that perhaps this moment was merely a fleeting misunderstanding, poised to dissolve like mist under the sun.
As I took in the hall, it became strikingly clear that this place was unlike any other within the majestic palace I had ventured into thus far. The walls were adorned with intricate veins of silver that shimmered and pulsed softly, resembling the gentle twinkling of distant constellations in the night sky. Above us, a grand circular skylight allowed a cascade of ethereal moonlight to pour in, illuminating the chamber with an otherworldly glow, despite the fact that the sky beyond was still painted with the fading hues of sunset. It felt as if time itself bowed to the celestial will, rendering this hall a realm detached from the ordinary passage of days.
Along the perimeter of the vast chamber, statues of ancient oracles stood sentinel, each intricately carved in a graceful pose, shrouded with silver blindfolds that glimmered in the moonlit radiance. Their hands were outstretched, as though they were yearning to grasp the elusive truths that lay just beyond the understanding of mortals. According to the legends that whispered through the corridors of history, these figures were once living entities-divine beings endowed with the extraordinary authority to judge the souls of kings and commoners alike.
The very presence of these statues was suffocating, an intense weight pressing down upon us, as if they were poised to break the silence with their age-old wisdom at any moment.
King Aldric paused at the center of the hall, his stance resolute and commanding. The amber of his eyes caught the celestial light streaming overhead, sharpening with a determination that resonated through the very foundations of this hallowed space.
"Seraphina Duskveil," he proclaimed, his voice echoing across the chamber with an authority that seemed to resonate from the very stones, filling every corner with a palpable tension. "You stand accused of wielding power deemed forbidden by the decree of the First Crown. The magic of Shadows and Souls."
A frigid chill swept through the air, and for a heartbeat, the statues themselves appeared to recoil at the weight of the king's accusation.
Seraphina held her ground, chin lifted defiantly, radiating an unwavering strength even in the face of such grave charges. "I have done nothing but protect the lives entrusted to your care, Your Majesty," she responded, her voice steady despite the storm brewing around us.
"And yet," the king's voice sliced through the air, each word heavier than the last, "such power has toppled dynasties and brought destruction upon the realms in ages long past."
He began to descend the steps toward us, his every movement profound with the weight of centuries, for he carried the history of our land in the silence that enveloped him.
"After the great Sovereign War," he continued, "all magic of that kind was locked away, sealed from the eyes of the living. The House of Duskveil was granted the privilege to exist only under strict surveillance. If the seal has indeed begun to weaken, then the very foundation of our kingdom will tremble."
Seraphina's fingers curled tightly into the delicate fabric of her gown, a silent manifestation of the turmoil within her, yet her voice remained unwavering and strong. "The seal frayed not due to our actions but because this kingdom turned its back on us. We have shouldered the burden of this legacy alone while the world chose to embrace fear in place of understanding."
The king's brows knitted together, revealing a complex tapestry of conflict and regret that played across his features.
Then, his gaze shifted to me, piercing and inquisitive.
"And you, Lord Arclight," he questioned, his voice thunderous as a storm gathering on the horizon. "Why do you stand beside her in outright defiance of every warning that has been issued to you?"
Without a moment of hesitation, I steeled myself, responding with conviction. "Because the true danger lies not in her magic, Your Majesty, but in the world's refusal to embrace the truth she represents. I stand with her because she has been unjustly condemned for a crime she has neither committed nor even conceived."
The king exhaled slowly, the sound resonating like the echo of ancient bells, weary and burdened by the gravity of his responsibilities.
"You speak with boldness, perhaps too boldly for your own good," he cautioned, a hint of seriousness lacing his tone.
With a subtle yet devastating motion, he signaled for the two Royal Magisters who had been hovering, their presence looming like shadows. They approached us, each cradling a crystalline orb that pulsed with a soft, pale light, seemingly alive with an energy of its own.
"Until we can verify the nature of the magic you invoked in the ballroom," the king declared, his voice unfaltering, "you will both undergo an Essence Examination."
For the first time since the tumultuous events had unfolded, I sensed Seraphina stiffen beside me. A flicker of genuine fear danced across her features, a sight that sent a pang of dread coursing through my heart.
The Examination was not merely a test of magic it amounted to a deep and intimate probing of one's very soul, capable of stripping away every façade, revealing truths that even the individual might wish to keep hidden.
The magisters carefully placed the glowing orbs before us. They pulsed rhythmically, resonating harmoniously with the mana that coursed through our bodies. The air around us felt charged, heavy with an electric tension that made my skin prickle.
Seraphina's breaths quickened, a subtle indication of her mounting anxiety.
Leaning closer, I whispered urgently to her, "Trust me. We will face this together."
Though she didn't respond with words, the gentle brush of her fingers against mine was a silent confession-an intertwining of terror and unspoken hope.
The king raised his hand, slow and deliberate, to commence the process.
In an instant, the orbs flared brightly.
Light erupted outward, bathing the hall in an intense brilliance.
Then, a voice floated through the air, resonating with the power of the cosmos itself.
It was a voice not of this realm, echoing with divine authority.
"Child of Shadow. Child of Light. Your fates converge. But only one truth can be crowned."
The previously bright and vibrant celestial glow began to fade, deepening into an ominous shade of violet, as if the very fabric of reality were being pulled into the depths of the universe's darkest corners. The atmosphere around us shifted dramatically, plunging into an icy chill that seeped into the bones of everyone present. The stone walls of the grand hall trembled under the weight of an unseen force, reverberating with a palpable tension that left us all on edge.
Without warning, a jagged crack appeared in the expansive skylight above, splintering the clear glass in a pattern reminiscent of a spider's intricate web, delicate yet undeniably destructive. This glass, designed to withstand the test of time and to shine brilliantly under the light of the sun, now became a herald of impending calamity.
Gasps of disbelief escaped the lips of the gathered magisters, their once calm faces contorted with expressions of shock and concern. The king, a figure of authority draped in regal attire, stepped forward, his brow furrowed with confusion and dread. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air as he murmured, "This should be impossible," his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might summon the very chaos we were witnessing.
In that electrifying moment, luminous orbs began to lift effortlessly into the air, swirling around Seraphina as if she were the epicenter of a raging storm. They danced and streaked through the hall with a life of their own, illuminating her figure with an ethereal glow that both captivated and terrified those who bore witness.
Then, just as the spectacle reached a fever pitch, all movement ceased in an instant, rendering the air thick with tension. A voice, deep and thunderous, reverberated through the grand chamber, old and foreboding, echoing off the stone walls as if it belonged to the very essence of time itself.
"She is the Harbinger of Dawn's Eclipse," it proclaimed, shattering the air with a declaration that carried the weight of ancient prophecies and dark omens.
At that moment, the orbs exploded into a myriad of fragments, showering the room with iridescent shimmers as they disintegrated, leaving behind an eerie silence that blanketed us all in unease.
In a startling turn of events, Seraphina's strength failed her, and she collapsed to the ground like a fragile flower stripped of its petals. In an instinctive rush, I lunged forward and caught her just before she could meet the cold stone floor. Her heartbeat thudded furiously beneath my hand, an erratic drum echoing her fear, and each ragged breath she took seemed laced with panic, as if she were on the brink of a precipice she could not see.
The king's eyes widened in undisguised horror as he gazed upon her, the mask of power slipping away to reveal the raw, unfiltered dread one could only feel when confronted by something truly unfathomable. "That title," he whispered, each syllable steeped in disbelief and trepidation. "It exists only in prophecy."
I pulled Seraphina closer to me, desperate to shield her from the unfolding chaos and the darkness that loomed over us all. The hall was plunged into an oppressive silence, the kind that holds its breath in anticipation of calamity.
Whatever destiny lay ahead for her, I sensed it was not just significant-it was an intricate tapestry woven with threads far more perilous than any of us had dared to consider. The echoes of fate swirled around us, and in that moment, it became clear there was no turning back now.
To be continued...