The music had stopped.
The masquerade was over, but the game was only beginning.
Aaron walked slowly down the candlelit corridor of the royal palace. His mask — now half-cracked from the heat of his silent kill — hung in his hand. His breath was steady, but the fire beneath his skin hummed like a warning.
A voice emerged from the shadows.
> "Effective. Quiet. Almost merciful."
Aaron didn't flinch.
Lucien stepped into view, his golden mask still on. Only his mouth moved — calm, amused.
> "But mercy," he added, "was never your nature, was it?"
---
⚔️ The Conversation That Wasn't a Fight
Aaron faced him.
> "You followed me here?"
Lucien smiled faintly. "No, Aaron. I arrived before you. Always."
Silence.
Then Lucien stepped closer.
> "You've learned to aim the flame. But not to direct it."
> "You burned a man for what he did. What will you do when you have to burn someone… for what they will do?"
Aaron's eyes narrowed. "You're not here to provoke me."
> "No. I'm here to remind you."
> "Every mask breaks, eventually."
Lucien walked away, his cloak dissolving into soot.
---
🏛️ The Summons
The next morning, two royal guards stood at Aaron's door.
> "By order of the Crown Council, you are summoned to the throne chamber. Immediate compliance is expected."
Aaron said nothing.
He followed.
---
👑 The Interrogation
The throne room was vast, cold, and filled with people who spoke in smiles and killed in silence.
At the center: the Crown Council — not masked this time, but worse… unmasked, unreadable.
A judge-figure stood.
> "Aaron Hotveil, son of no house, bearer of Skyborn flame. A man died last night under circumstances unnatural and unexplainable. Do you deny involvement?"
Aaron looked up. Calm.
> "No."
A stir. Gasps. Whispers.
> "And do you regret your action?"
A pause.
Then Aaron said:
> "Only that it was clean."
---
⚖️ Verdict Deferred
The council conferred in low tones.
Then the eldest rose.
> "You will remain within the royal district until further notice."
> "Your flame is not yet condemned… but it is now watched."
As Aaron turned to leave, one of the guards whispered:
> "They're not afraid of what you did. They're afraid of what you'll make others believe they can do."
---
🌫️ Final Scene
That night, Aaron stood on the palace balcony, flames dancing across his knuckles.
Ashen stood behind him, quiet.
> "They fear you now," the boy said.
Aaron nodded.
> "Good."
> "But will you burn their world… or build it?"
Aaron didn't answer.
Not yet.