Chapter Four: The Revenge

The chamber held its breath.

The court mage's voice had broken the silence like a blade through glass. "The flames we just witnessed… they looked unnatural, too perfect."

I didn't flinch. I had been waiting for this moment.

"Correct," I said, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest. "That was because I was holding an unstable catalyst. One that my father created."

The words hung in the air like poison.

A sharp, cold laugh cut through the chamber.

Father stepped forward, his face a mask of fury and disbelief. "You dare accuse my work? You would throw House Dravoryn's name into the dirt for your games?"

His voice echoed off the stone walls, reverberating through the stunned silence. I could see the veins pulsing at his temples, the way his hands trembled. Not with fear, but with barely contained rage.

"This is nonsense," he spat. "Your recklessness endangers us all. Are you trying to destroy the court's balance?"

I met his glare without flinching. After years of his disappointment, his schemes, and his willingness to sacrifice me for political gain, I felt nothing but cold resolve.

"Perhaps it is your recklessness that built these unstable foundations. I stand here to expose them before they burn us all down."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd like water disturbed by a stone. Some faces twisted in shock, others in barely concealed fear. I could feel the weight of generations of tradition cracking beneath my words.

I glanced toward Rylan, still recovering but watching me with sharp eyes. The tension between us remained, but I needed his alliance. After our duel, I knew he would respect strength, and I had proven mine.

I walked toward him, each step deliberate, and whispered, "Rylan, your support will tip the balance. Together, we ensure the Court's safety."

Rylan hesitated, his jaw working as he weighed the implications. Then, slowly, he gave a curt nod.

That single motion was louder than any declaration. With the backing of three Houses, a court inspection would be mandatory. That threshold had just been reached.

He stood, his voice carrying clearly across the chamber. "I believe there needs to be a court inspection of the catalyst to determine if it is truly safe. Lord Alric, do you not agree?"

Alric's scarred face was grim as he nodded to the court mages. "It must be done for our safety."

Vaelen rose then, his movements fluid and calculated. "I second this motion. If Theryn also agrees, that will meet the three-house requirement for inspection."

Lord Marrek Theryn's voice was cold as winter stone. "Agreed."

The die was cast.

I turned to the court mages, the catalyst still clutched in my hand. "I consent to the inspection."

The words had barely left my lips when I heard movement behind me. A sharp pain exploded in my ribs as Father's fist connected with my chest. The force sent me staggering backward, gasping for breath.

"You traitorous," he started, lunging forward again.

But Rylan was there, his hand catching Father's wrist. "That's enough, Lord Garron."

I clutched the catalyst tighter, my ribs screaming in protest. The chamber erupted into chaos.

Voices shouted over one another, some calling for order, others demanding action. Guards moved swiftly, encircling Father and Rylan, their eyes sharp and ready. I could see Arren in the crowd, his face pale with shock, frozen between loyalty to his father and horror at what was unfolding.

I struggled to my feet, and I tasted blood where I’d bitten my tongue. The sharp sting in my ribs reminded me that this wasn't just politics anymore, it was personal. It had always been personal.

Vaelen stepped forward calmly, his gaze sweeping the room like a general surveying a battlefield. "Enough. This court will not descend into violence. The inspection will proceed, and House Dravoryn will cooperate fully."

His voice held the weight of command, and the room reluctantly settled into an uneasy quiet.

I wiped a thin trickle of blood from my lip and locked eyes with Father. His expression was a mix of rage and something deeper. Defeat, perhaps. Or recognition that I had finally become something he couldn't control.

I walked over to where the court mages were standing, each step measured and deliberate. The lead mage-an elderly woman with silver hair and eyes like ice-glanced at me with something that might have been sympathy.

"The catalyst, if you please," she said softly.

I placed it carefully on the examination table they had prepared. The metal seemed to pulse with its own malevolent life as the mages began their work.

They moved with careful precision, delicate tools tracing the edges of the catalyst, probing its crystalline structure. I could feel the weight of every gaze in the room, the mixture of anticipation and dread hanging thick in the air like smoke.

Father remained rigid, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might crack. His eyes never left the catalyst, as if willing it to withstand their scrutiny.

Vaelen stood nearby, calm and composed, but I caught the faintest flicker of calculation in his eyes. Always watching. Always planning.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as the mages worked. The only sounds were the soft clink of their instruments and the occasional sharp intake of breath from the watching crowd.

Finally, the lead mage stepped back, her face grave. She addressed the court with the solemnity of a judge pronouncing sentence.

"The catalyst's structure is unstable beyond any known parameters. Its cohesion fluctuates unpredictably, and the potential for catastrophic failure is..." She paused, choosing her words carefully, "extremely high."

A ripple of shock ran through the crowd like a physical wave.

"This is not just a danger to House Dravoryn," the mage continued, her voice carrying to every corner of the chamber. "It threatens the stability of the entire court and, potentially, the kingdom itself."

Father's face went white as bone, his fury now replaced by something colder. I could see the moment he realized that his secret had been exposed, that years of falsification and corruption had finally caught up with him.

I took a breath, steadying myself against the storm I had unleashed.

"This is why I stand here," I called out, my voice carrying across the silent chamber. "To make sure we face this threat before it destroys us all."

The chamber remained silent for a long moment, as if the very stones were holding their breath.

Then, slowly, the murmurs began again. This time, they were filled with a new urgency, a recognition that everything had changed.

The lead court mage spoke again, her words falling like hammer blows. "Everyone present has borne witness to what has happened here. You will all be required to attend the urgent court meeting to decide House Dravoryn's fate."

The words still hung heavy in the air when Father's eyes suddenly blazed with a furious, desperate resolve.

Without warning, he reached into his robe and pulled out an Auris gem. The air around him shimmered as a flickering blue flame erupted, swirling like a storm encased in glass. The temperature in the chamber spiked, and I could smell the acrid scent of ozone.

The guards stepped back instinctively, hands moving to their weapons, but uncertain how to fight magical fire.

"I will not be the one to fall!" he growled, his voice sharp with desperation and madness. "I will not let this house crumble because of your weakness!"

The blue flames crackled fiercely around him as he turned toward the exit. For a moment, I thought he might escape, might burn his way out of the consequences of his actions.

But from the corner of my eye, I saw movement.

A court mage stepped forward, her fingers weaving a swift, deadly pattern in the air. Her face was calm, professional; she had done this before.

A spike of pure carbon shot through the air. Silent, precise, inevitable.

It struck Father in the chest, piercing through the blue flame and his heart in a single motion.

He stumbled, eyes wide with disbelief, his mouth opening, “I was meant to become emperor, I was… I…”. Then he crumpled to the cold stone floor. The blue flames flickered once and died.

Lord Garron Dravoryn was dead.

The chamber froze.

Eyes wide, breaths caught tight in chests, the court stared down at the fallen man. I found myself looking at his face, slack now in death, and felt something hollow open in my chest. This was what I had wanted, wasn't it? This was justice.

So why did I feel so empty?

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat. My plan had worked. The corruption was exposed. Father was gone. But the victory tasted like ash in my mouth.

Vaelen's expression remained unreadable, but his eyes flicked once toward me. A silent reminder that everything was about to change. The game was far from over.

Rylan stepped back, jaw tight, watching with sharp caution. I could see him reassessing me, wondering what kind of person orchestrates their own father's downfall.

Arren stood frozen among the crowd, his fists clenched at his sides, his face pale but steady. Our eyes met across the chamber, and I saw something there I hadn't expected. Not hatred, but a kind of grim understanding. He had seen Father's corruption, too. He had lived with it longer than I had.

The lead court mage's voice cut through the tension like a cold blade, restoring order to chaos.

"Order will be restored. The emperor has been notified. An urgent council will convene to decide the fate of House Dravoryn and the future of the court."

She paused, looking directly at me. "Until then, the house remains under imperial scrutiny."

I nodded, understanding. I had won this battle, but the war was far from over.

As the court began to disperse, murmuring and casting uncertain glances in my direction, I remained standing over my father's body. The catalyst lay forgotten on the examination table, no longer the center of attention now that its creator was dead.

I had exposed the truth. I had brought down the corruption.

But standing there in the aftermath, I wondered if the price had been worth it.

And I wondered what Vaelen was planning to do with the chaos I had created.