And on it…
Nothing.
Until he stepped forward.
Then, with a whisper of movement, a figure rose from the throne.
It wore no armor. No face. No flesh.
It was made of chains, suspended in midair, held together by a soul-flame not unlike Ethan's own.
The Trial had begun.
Many of them had refused to speak at all in the first day after the takeover. Not out of fear—but reverence. Kaeryx's mere presence had overwhelmed their spirits, crushed the pride they wore like armor. They weren't just defeated—they had been humbled. Now, they obeyed quietly, bowing their heads when Ethan passed, whispering to one another in Draconic tongues that even the other scouts couldn't understand.
Ethan turned away from the balcony and stepped back into the chamber.
