The streets of Redmere were crowded, but eerily quiet in comparison to the usual bustle. Merchants haggled softly; children clung to parents; soldiers patrolled in pairs, eyes sharp. All watched the platform erected in the town square—a bare wooden stage, deliberately low, so that no speaker could hide behind grandeur.Edrin stepped onto it alone.No guards. No symbols of power. Just a man and a message.He raised his hands, palms open, showing nothing but intent.“Citizens of Redmere,” he began, voice steady, carrying without effort. “I will not ask for applause. I will not demand loyalty.”A hush fell, the kind of quiet that precedes a verdict.“I am here,” Edrin continued, “because your city has become a chessboard. You have been told to follow. To obey. To wait while decisions are made that shape your lives.”Eyes shifted toward the council chambers where Adrian and Selene had been convening emergency meetings. People whispered, glancing at one another, uncertain where allegiance

The sun rose over Redmere like a pale witness, illuminating streets that bore the scars of last night’s chaos. Smoke curled from partially extinguished fires, the acrid scent mingling with the morning dew. Shops remained closed. Children stayed inside. Citizens walked in hesitant clusters, eyes darting between patrols, rooftops, and one another. The city was alive—but uncertain, divided.Adrian stood atop the northern wall, surveying the aftermath. The city had survived the siege, yet survival felt hollow. The numbers were in: dozens dead, hundreds injured, and thousands terrified. The council’s reports arrived piecemeal, each more alarming than the last. The protectorate had acted decisively—and yet, perception was failing them.“Redmere’s councilors are questioning your decisions,” Kael said quietly. “Some openly advocate for Edrin’s philosophy, claiming your actions endangered civilians unnecessarily.”Adrian clenched his jaw. “And yet, inaction would have ensured greater bloodshed

The moon hung low over the stronghold, casting silver light across the shattered stone floor. Smoke from earlier confrontations drifted lazily, carrying with it the metallic scent of blood and the acrid tang of shadowfire. Silence settled, but it was heavy—pregnant with anticipation, judgment, and the inevitability of impossible decisions.Adrian knelt briefly, catching his breath, surveying both the physical and psychological battlefield. Selene stood nearby, eyes fixed on Edrin, who lounged casually, the shadows around him pulsing with subtle menace. He had orchestrated this confrontation meticulously, leaving no room for simple action. Every option carried consequences. Every choice was morally treacherous.Kael and two loyal captains flanked Adrian, their swords drawn, but even their presence felt inadequate against the cunning Edrin.“You’ve pushed the towns to the brink,” Adrian said, voice low but sharp. “You’ve forced my people to choose between survival and loyalty. And now…”