Solas lay in the chair, the back of his head pressed against the floor as sunlight from the ceiling poured over him. His breathing remained steady. He wondered what the point of all this torture truly was.
Revek had mentioned she'd done this before—was it a custom here? Were men routinely tortured before being brought to court? Was it meant to break their will, to silence them before they could speak for themselves? His mind churned with the possibilities.
As for Revek's abrupt departure, the only likely explanation was that word had reached them about the goblin ambush on the caravan. Everything Solas had done, everything he'd said—soon, it would all start to take effect.
From his guess Vaelira had just now given information on what had happened and what he had done out there. Now he just had to wait to what comes next, all the pieces were aligned and ready to fall.
***
Far above the dungeon, sunlight filtered through tall-glass windows, casting a yellow light across the black marble floor of the council chamber. The room was oval-shaped and high-ceilinged, with dark stone columns lining the walls and silver-inlaid banners hanging behind the raised high table. Every sound echoed faintly, giving the chamber a sense of quiet judgment.
The smooth double doors creaked open as Revek entered, her arms lowering to her sides as she stepped forward.
Ahead, Vaelira stood near the high table, leaning against it with her arms braced for support.
Revek narrowed her eyes. "What was important enough for you to call me up here?"
A woman seated at the high table turned toward her. She had short white hair, long ears, and wore thin glasses. Her deep red eyes were focused on a document she held. Robes of deep silver wrapped around her form, embroidered with black thread at the cuffs and collar.
Without looking up, she spoke in a calm, polite tone. "Before you proceed with your… usual methods, I suggest you read this."
She set the document on the table and slid it toward Revek.
Revek stepped forward, picked it up—and her eyes widened as she read.
Solas had aided them in the battle against the goblins—he had even saved a knight's life, according to the report.
Vaelira had submitted her account almost immediately upon reaching the capital. Not only was it required by law to document any incidents or injuries that occurred on the road, but she had also promised Solas that she would do everything within her power to see him go unpunished.
Revek set the document back down onto the high table and looked toward Vaelira.
"What are you trying to gain from this?" she asked, voice tinged with suspicion.
A man saving a knight's life—a man—was unheard of. Most men brought into the kingdom resisted or attempted escape. But this one… had fought alongside them. Had defended a knight. The report only deepened her strange fascination with him.
Vaelira leaned more heavily against the table, her voice steady and resolute.
"He's not ordinary. Of all the people I've worked with, he's the only one who stood out."
Revek crossed her arms, letting out a sigh as she pressed her palm to her forehead.
"You don't decide his fate. The court does."
"If I may inquire…" came a soft voice from the far side of the table.
Both women turned toward the speaker—the white-haired elven advisor, her crimson eyes calm behind her glasses. She raised a graceful hand toward Vaelira.
"If it is true that he assisted your unit," she continued, "such actions may weigh in his favor when the court deliberates his case."
Vaelira rested her hand against her chin, lost in thought. Why was she going this far for a man she had only just met? She could hardly explain it to herself. He had helped them, yes—but there was something different about him. Something that felt… inevitable. As though he would shape the world around him, whether they willed it or not.
Her thoughts were broken as Revek scoffed and shook her head.
"He is still a man. He trespassed in our kingdom's lands. And I'm not finished with him yet."
Then—creak—the doors to the chamber opened.
All heads turned.
And Vaelira's breath caught in her throat.
At the door stood a lone woman.
Her long silvery-white hair was wild and layered, strands sharp like blades cascading over her shoulders. Some fell across her forehead, while the rest flowed down her back, stopping just below her chest. Her pale grey eyes were sharp and wolfish—predatory in gaze. A scar ran over her left eye—not blinding, but a lingering mark from a past battle. Her skin was pale, yet carried an eerie elegance.
She wore jet-black armor, polished smooth, with a cloak that reached just past her waist. Underneath was a fitted coat, its collar high around her neck, black with dark grey trim. A black chain pressed against her throat, from which hung a small white skull. Jet-black gloves covered her hands.
Her voice rang out—soft, yet firm. "What is this about a man?"
She stepped forward with slow, deliberate strides, a dark grey tail swaying gently behind her. From base to tip, the fur shifted in color, ending in silvery white.
Everyone froze. It wasn't just any officer—it was the Head Commander herself: Vargra.
Vaelira's mouth parted slightly, unsure of what to say. "Y-You're here early, sister…"
A faint smirk curled Vargra's lips. "Is there a problem with that?"
Vaelira shook her head, hesitant. "No…"
Vargra approached the high table, her presence enough to make Revek instinctively step aside. She picked up the document in silence, her pale eyes scanning every word.
Lowering the paper, she looked to Vaelira with a hint of curiosity. "I would like to meet this person."
"The court won't convene until sunrise," Revek said, her voice flat.
Vargra gave a soft hum. "Very well. I'll look forward to seeing him then." She turned, pausing to glance over her shoulder at Revek. "Don't do anything to him."
Revek straightened, nodding. "Yes, ma'am."
Vargra began walking toward the exit, her footsteps steady and slow. Just before leaving, she paused at the threshold.
"Vaelira," she said without turning.
Vaelira froze, her voice catching slightly. "Y-Yes, sis?"
"You don't need to call me that. Not 'sis.' Not 'sister.' Call me by my name." Her voice was firm, yet carried a gentle undertone.
Vaelira nodded slowly. "Yes… Vargra."
A small, satisfied sigh escaped Vargra's lips before she stepped out. The heavy doors shut behind her with a quiet thud.
She was known for appearing unannounced, walking into rooms without warning to check on things herself. But when it came to Vaelira, she did it more often. Too often. Vaelira never knew why. Maybe it was just to ensure she was doing her job. Or… maybe it was something more.
After Vargra left, the pressure in the room seemed to lift all at once. Everyone exhaled as if they'd been holding their breath the entire time. Her presence had that effect—commanding, weighty, inescapable.
Vargra was one of the kingdom's highest-ranking officers, deeply respected and widely feared. Her rise through the ranks had been meteoric, fueled by unmatched combat prowess and a ruthless sense of duty. It often left Vaelira feeling like she was merely standing in her shadow.
The elf girl let out a shaky breath, finally relaxing. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and chuckled softly. "Well, I suppose that concludes everything."
She rose from her seat, both Vaelira and Revek glancing toward her as she collected the document.
"I'll take care of this," she said, adjusting her glasses with a light push. "You two may return to your duties."
Vaelira exhaled in quiet relief, content that—at least in some small way—she'd done something to repay Solas.
"Finally," Revek scoffed under her breath. "I'll be going back to what I was doing before all this."