Chapter Eleven – Part Two
The amphitheater's air thickened like a thunderstorm about to break. Runes etched in the black marble flared, reacting to the clash of wills between the Council, Veyra Drakov, and Alexander.
High Seer Caelith raised a gloved hand. "Order." Her voice rang out like a hammer on an anvil. "This Council remains sovereign. No emissary dictates terms to us."
Veyra's smile didn't fade. "I'm not dictating, Seer. I'm advising. You know the Syndicate has been preparing countermeasures for centuries. We're not your enemy—unless you make us one."
Kael Serrin stepped forward, his dark braid swinging. "Enough diplomacy. This boy walks into our Citadel with a cursed Heart, survives a Trial no one should survive, and you treat him like a hero? He's a loaded war-spell waiting to go off."
Alexander turned toward him, feeling a pulse of heat rise up his throat. "Say it again," he murmured.
Kael sneered. "You're a monster—"
Silver ash flared under Alexander's feet before he could stop it. The amphitheater's wards shuddered. Nyx grabbed his arm. "Alexander—control it!"
He closed his eyes, forcing the Heart down like a wild beast on a chain. The ash receded, leaving a scorched ring around his boots.
"I'm not your monster," Alexander said softly. "But push me again, and you'll find out what I am."
Veyra clapped once, slow and deliberate. "Impressive. But the world is watching. The Syndicate will not tolerate uncontrolled anomalies."
High Seer Caelith rose from her throne, her veil glinting with runes. "Enough. We will decide this now."
The Council conferred briefly in a swirl of whispered magic. When they turned back, Caelith's voice echoed with finality. "Alexander. You have passed the Trial of Control. You now stand as the Ashborn Vessel. But power without temperance is a greater threat than any enemy."
She gestured, and a map of the Border Wastes shimmered in the air. "We have detected disturbances there — fissures of ash energy identical to the Guardian's signature. You will go there, under Citadel oversight, to investigate."
Nyx's eyes widened. "That's suicide."
Sera Valen stepped up beside Alexander. "Then I'm going with him."
Veyra's smile widened. "How noble. We'll send an observer as well. After all, transparency fosters trust."
Alexander's gaze sharpened. "You want to leash me?"
"Call it a partnership," Veyra said smoothly. "My personal envoy will travel with you."
Kael Serrin snorted. "Why not send me instead? At least I'm not infected."
Caelith raised an eyebrow. "You wish to volunteer?"
Kael blinked, realizing too late he'd spoken out of pride. "I—"
"Granted," Caelith said, and Kael went pale. "You will accompany Alexander as a balancing force."
Alexander almost smiled despite himself. "Guess we're teammates now."
Kael glared daggers at him. "This isn't over."
The Council's runes dimmed. The decision was made. Alexander's first mission as the Ashborn Vessel was set — and it was already a powder keg of rival agendas, Syndicate observers, and uncharted powers.
As the amphitheater emptied, Sera touched Alexander's arm. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"
He looked at her, at Nyx, at the faint shadow of Veyra watching from the archway. The Heart pulsed once, slow and deep, like a drumbeat of fate.
"No," Alexander said honestly. "But I'll go anyway."
In the fading light of the Citadel, the vision of the chained god flickered again across his inner sight — its eyes like eclipses, its chains breaking one by one.
Somewhere beyond the Border Wastes, something was waiting for him.
And this time, the world wouldn't be the same when he returned.
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