The chamber smelled of iron and lavender—noble things, polished things, things meant to cover the rot beneath.
Toji stood at the center of the high council chamber in Gulmund's upper ring, beneath a half-dome of sapphire glass. Sunlight spilled across the marble floor in fractured blues and whites. Around him sat nine nobles, draped in silk and arrogance, golden signets shining on their fingers, their eyes dim with expectation.
Frankie stood at Toji's side, holding the scrolls. The reports. The testimony. The artifacts. The truth.
"My Lords," Toji began, voice level, hands behind his back, "what we have uncovered beneath Governor Helmund's palace is not merely corruption—it is sacrilege. A betrayal not only of Sarfin's crown, but of the souls under its protection."
Whispers flickered. Robes shifted. One of the nobles coughed lightly into a scented kerchief.
Lady Tervanna leaned forward. Her hair was silver like snowfall, her lips lined with disapproval. "Are you suggesting our governor traffics in… demons?"
"I am not suggesting," Toji said. "I am showing."
Frankie stepped forward and laid out the evidence on the central stone table—sigils drawn in corrupted blood, a broken pendant with demonic glyphs, and a small, sealed crystal vial still faintly pulsing with dark energy.
Lord Harvien scoffed. "This could have been planted. Replicas. You could have forged these."
Frankie looked up sharply. "You think I would risk my life crawling through death pits to bring forgeries to you?"
"Toji isn't just another soldier," another noble muttered. "He burned half a forest last month. Froze a river solid. You trust someone like that with claims like this?"
Toji said nothing for a moment. He looked at each of them—at the painted walls, the golden goblets, the guards standing too still at the edges of the room. Then he spoke again, his voice quieter, but heavier.
"The people are dying in shadows. Your streets are thinning not because of poverty, but because your governor feeds on them. Rituals. Sacrifices. He's not loyal to Sarfin. He's loyal to something that watches from behind the Veil."
Lady Tervanna smiled without warmth. "And you, foreigner from beyond the stars, expect us to abandon our station and accuse one of our own? Based on… fragments?"
"I expected you to care," Toji replied.
The room fell silent.
Frankie, standing beside him, tightened his grip on the rolled parchment. His voice broke the quiet. "With all respect, my lords and ladies—what happens when what hides under Helmund spreads? What happens when this reaches the capital? The King?"
At that, the air shifted. Some of the nobles stiffened. Others looked to the central seal of Sarfin carved into the floor.
"Enough," Lord Harvien said. "This court thanks you for your concerns, but there is no case here. We will not move against a governor with no command from the King."
Toji stepped forward, slow and deliberate. "So your loyalty lies not with the truth, but with permission."
The guards at the edge of the chamber moved. Not toward him. Just enough to remind him.
Frankie whispered under his breath, "We should go."
Toji gave a slight nod.
As they turned to leave, Lady Tervanna spoke once more. "Take care, Toji of no house. Sometimes, staring into darkness brings it staring back."
Toji paused at the door.
"Then let it stare," he said. "Because this time, something will stare back."
The heavy oak doors closed behind them with a whisper that felt like a verdict.
Toji and Frankie descended the polished stone steps of the high hall in silence, their shadows stretching long across the courtyard as the sun dipped toward dusk. The city below glimmered with false gold—warm lights in windows, merchants closing stalls, guards laughing at the edge of the plaza. Everything looked normal. Peaceful. But Toji knew better.
The infection had roots here. He had felt it in the stones, tasted it in the air. It just wore perfume and silk now.
"That went well," Frankie muttered bitterly, gripping the scrolls tighter against his chest.
"They never intended to listen," Toji replied.
"They feared the King more than the truth."
"No," Toji said. "They feared change. The King is just an excuse."
Frankie stopped, turning to face him fully. "What do we do now? If the nobles won't act, and the capital doesn't know—or worse, doesn't care—what's left?"
Toji looked up toward the distant hills that walled in the city. "We go over their heads."
"To the people?"
"To the ones still willing to fight," Toji said. "Felaad. Serene. Soldiers. Scholars. Anyone who hasn't sold their soul for comfort."
Frankie hesitated. "Toji... if we expose this without authority behind us, they'll call us traitors. Rebels."
Toji looked at him. Calm. Certain.
"Then let them. We speak the truth. That's all we need."
They returned to their quarters in the lower ward, tucked between the barracks and the slums, where the lights were dimmer and the guards didn't bother patrolling. Inside, Elian was waiting—polishing a blade that had clearly seen too much use lately.
"Let me guess," Elian said as they entered, not looking up. "The nobles spit on your evidence and told you to sit down like good little dogs."
Toji allowed himself the faintest smirk. "Close enough."
Frankie threw down the scrolls on the table. "We have proof, Elian. Enough to make them all look like fools. And they just… stared."
"They're not fools," Elian said, setting the blade down. "They're survivors. The kind who pick the winning side and pretend it was the righteous one all along."
Toji sat down at the edge of the table. "Then we'll show them who's winning."
Elian finally looked up, narrowing his eyes. "You want to go public. Military. Temple. People."
"To all of them," Toji said. "We've played polite. We've brought receipts and bowed before councils. That ends now."
Frankie paced, energy rising. "Then we hit Helmund directly. Not with steel—yet—but with pressure. His soldiers, his supporters. We leak the documents. We seed doubt."
"And when that fails?" Elian asked.
Toji's voice was low. "Then we tear him down by fire."
The wind carried no birdsong. No distant chatter. Just the soft rustle of banners and the clicking of hooves far off down the cobblestone roads.
Toji stood alone on the roof of their barracks, eyes closed, sensing.
Magic moved like threads through the city—faint, fractured. Most of it mundane. But here and there… glimmers of something darker. Tainted ley lines, anchored near the governor's estate.
And deep beneath it all, something else.
Older. Still. Waiting.
"It's waking up," he whispered to himself. "Whatever he's hiding… it's not meant to stay buried."
He turned as he heard footsteps approach. Frankie, carrying a satchel and a sealed letter.
"The archivist gave me this," Frankie said. "It was marked with the governor's seal, but it wasn't addressed to any noble. It's… strange."
Toji took the parchment and broke the seal.
Inside, in a dark curling script that bled like ink still wet, were only two words:
"Phase Two."
Toji's grip tightened.
"Frankie," he said, voice hollow, "we're not just dealing with Helmund."
Frankie stared at the paper. "What does it mean?"
Toji looked out over the city again, his voice quiet.
"It means we're already late."
Frankie then told Toji "Serene is back from the capital"