The wind carried a biting chill as Aeron and Lyria made their way toward the war council. The village, once a quiet refuge, now buzzed with tension and whispered fears.
News had spread fast: the Pantheon Council was assembling its forces, determined to crush any threat to their rule — and Aeron had become the target.
Inside the dimly lit hall, the council members sat like statues carved from ice, their eyes cold and calculating. At the center, Malrik Thorne's presence was like a shadow stretching across the room — a reminder of betrayal and old wounds.
Aeron met his gaze without flinching.
"Your return threatens the balance we maintain," Malrik said, voice low and venomous. "You were cast down for a reason."
Aeron's reply was calm but unwavering. "I was betrayed. I will reclaim what was stolen — not for power, but for justice."
The council erupted into heated debate, but Aeron's resolve only deepened.
As he left the hall, Lyria caught his arm. "This won't be easy. They will send everything against you."
Aeron nodded, eyes aflame with determination. "Then let them come. I will be ready."
The flames of reckoning were ignited — and Aeron's path toward redemption and war had begun.