Chapter 180: Shadows of Justice
The chamber was dimly lit, the only glow spilling from the crystalline sphere that hovered just above Kael's palm. It pulsed faintly with his mana, the magical tether bridging the Hollow and the Ocean Kingdom.
"Kael?" The voice that came through was Lyria's, tight with worry.
His shoulders eased slightly at the sound. "I'm well. So are Fenrik and Rogan. The danger has passed." He paused, aware of the eyes of Thalren's guards watching him as he spoke. "We've caught the traitor. The king and his council are deciding his fate as we speak. I'll be home soon."
There was silence for a moment, then her voice softened, tinged with something heavier. "We'll be waiting for you."
The light faded, the sphere dimming as he cut the connection. Kael lingered a moment longer, the echo of her voice steadying him before he tucked the sphere into his belt. When he turned, Fenrik and Rogan were already waiting.
"Time to see what passes for justice in a king's court," Rogan muttered, folding his arms. His scarred face betrayed no emotion, but his tone carried the weight of cynicism.
Kael simply nodded and followed the summons into the council chamber.
The chamber was a hall of pillars carved like waves frozen in motion. Torches guttered in sconces, throwing restless shadows across a long table where Thalren's council sat. The king himself stood at its head, his expression hard and weary, his sword resting on the table as if even he needed its presence to anchor him.
Varenth knelt before them, bound in heavy iron, shadows of Kael's own making still lingering faintly on his limbs like stains of guilt. His head was held high despite the shackles, his gaze sharp as steel.
The council was in uproar.
"He was your most trusted advisor!" one councilor shouted, slamming a fist on the table. "How do we know how deep his rot runs? How many does he still command in the shadows?"
Another, older man shook his head. "We cannot rush to kill him. His knowledge is vast. Interrogate him — bleed him of every secret before deciding his fate."
A third scoffed, his voice laced with venom. "Interrogate? The man tried to have our king killed! His life was forfeit the moment he raised blade and spell against us."
Voices clashed, rising like a storm, the arguments spilling in circles with no end.
Kael stood silent at first, his arms crossed, watching. Fenrik leaned toward him, whispering, "This isn't a council. It's a tavern brawl with better clothes."
Rogan snorted. "Truth be told, tavern brawls end faster."
The arguments dragged on, voices rising and falling in useless fury. Thalren said nothing, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on Varenth like a man staring into the past.
It was Kael who finally stepped forward, his boots ringing on the stone. The chamber stilled at his movement, the firelight catching the glint of his eyes.
"You argue of delays, of squeezing him for secrets, of what he was once worth." His voice was low, cold, yet it carried, pulling every gaze. He turned to Thalren, unflinching. "But tell me this, King of the Ocean Kingdom—"
The silence was absolute.
"—have traitors ever kept their heads after raising hand against their king, no matter who they once were?"
The words hung like a blade poised above the chamber.
Thalren's breath caught, his hands tightening on the edge of the table. The council shifted uncomfortably, some looking down, others pale as the weight of Kael's question settled.
Varenth's lips twitched into the faintest smile, as if defiance was the only weapon he had left.
But Thalren's eyes hardened. The indecision that had plagued him seemed to burn away, leaving only iron resolve. Slowly, he reached for his sword, the steel whispering against the scabbard as he drew it free.
"You're right." His voice cut sharp. "No matter what he once was, Varenth is a traitor. He tried to take my life, endanger my family, and divide my people. And for that—" he stepped forward, the tip of the blade gleaming in the torchlight "—there is only one sentence."
The council fell silent, none daring to speak against him now.
Kael met Thalren's eyes and gave a small, sharp nod. A leader had made his choice.
The courtyard was filled by dawn. Soldiers, nobles, and commoners alike gathered in a tense semicircle around the scaffold. The ocean wind carried salt through the air, but it could not mask the scent of fear and inevitability.
Varenth was led forward, bound but unbroken, his steps steady as though he marched to a ceremony rather than an end. He mounted the steps with his head high, his eyes sweeping the crowd before resting on Thalren.
The king stood before him, sword in hand, no headsman to bear the burden. This was his betrayal to answer, his justice to deliver.
"You could have been great," Varenth said, his voice carrying across the silent crowd. "You could have ruled with strength, with purity. Instead, you cling to weakness and consort with monsters." His gaze flicked to Kael, venom dripping from every word. "This will damn you."
Thalren's face betrayed nothing. He raised his blade. "No. This saves us."
The sword fell.
The crowd gasped, a single cry tearing the silence before it fell to quiet once more. Varenth's body crumpled, lifeless, his head rolling to rest against the wood.
The Ocean Kingdom had its justice.
Kael watched, his expression carved from stone. Rogan exhaled, long and slow, while Fenrik muttered a quiet prayer.
For a moment, Kael's eyes lingered on the blood pooling at the scaffold's edge. Betrayal, justice, consequence — they all bled the same.
When he turned away, it was with the knowledge that this would not be the last shadow cast upon their fragile alliance.
But it was, at least, a beginning.