A disgrace to the Velmira name
The Grand Magus, Lucien, stepped forward, his deep purple robes billowing behind him.
His sharp features, once a source of guidance, now held nothing but cold finality.
The man who had trained her, shaped her, raised her into the mage she had become, now stood in judgment against her.
Lucien's voice rang through the grand ceremonial hall, a stark contrast to the cheers that had filled it only moments before.
"Arienne Velmira," he began, his tone measured, deliberate. "You stand accused of treachery most foul. You, who we welcomed as our savior, have instead embraced the very darkness we have sworn to eradicate."
Arienne barely lifted her head.
The chains binding her glowed a searing blue, ancient magic coursing through them, suppressing the power that raged within her veins.
Every breath burned, every heartbeat felt like a hammer against her ribs. Yet, none of it compared to the betrayal pressing down on her chest.
"We have discovered," Lucien continued, his gaze sweeping across the gathered court, "that the great Arienne Velmira did not achieve her mastery of the Phoenix Core through discipline alone. No, she turned to forbidden means—to a magic so vile it taints everything it touches."
Murmurs spread like wildfire through the crowd. Accusations slithered through the air, each one sharper than the last.
"Dark magic…"
"A disgrace to the Velmira name."
"She should have been executed the moment she showed such power."
"We were fools to trust her. She was never meant to protect us—only to destroy."
"She tricked us all, pretending to be our savior."
"The signs were always there… we just refused to see them."
The grand Magus Lucien lifted a hand, silencing them with a mere gesture.
His piercing gaze locked onto Arienne, scrutinizing her like one would a shattered relic. "When you were a child, your own power nearly consumed you. I saw it myself. You were weak—so weak that I had believed the Phoenix Core would devour you whole. A good seed, wasted. And then… suddenly, miraculously, you survived. No, more than that—you mastered it."
He narrowed his eyes. "At the time, I had thought it was mere resilience. A miracle, perhaps. But now we know the truth. You bent your will to the shadows, didn't you? You embraced the darkness so you could wield your power fully."
"No…" Arienne's voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
The chains pulsed, reacting to her attempt to speak, sending another wave of agonizing heat through her body.
Her fingers trembled as she forced herself to lift her gaze. "I didn't—I would never—"
"Silence!" Lucien's voice thundered through the chamber. "The proof is in your magic. We have seen the taint within it. You defiled yourself the moment you chose to walk this path."
Arienne shook her head violently, refusing to accept his words.
This wasn't true.
She would have known if she had tainted herself, if she had used something unnatural.
She had spent her entire life honing her magic, tempering herself against the raw might of the Phoenix Core.
There had never been—
A memory struck her like a lightning bolt.
She gasped, her golden eyes widening as they darted across the hall, searching—until they landed on him.
Her father.
His expression is unreadable, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. His usually commanding presence seemed somehow… dimmer.
As though he already knew what she had just remembered.
Arienne's breath came fast and shallow.
The memory was hazy, buried deep within her mind, but now it surfaced with startling clarity.
She had been a child—barely more than eight—writhing in unbearable agony, the Phoenix Core tearing her apart from the inside.
It had been too strong, too wild.
She had been too weak.
She remembered the searing pain, the overwhelming heat, the helplessness as she felt herself slipping away.
And then—her father's voice.
Words she had been too delirious to understand at the time.
A presence, something ancient and heavy, pressing into her very being.
And after that…
She had survived.
She had controlled it.
The Velmira family had lost the prestige it once held. For generations, they had been without a worthy heir—until now.
A child born with the Phoenix Core. Her father would never let such power go to waste.
A cold shudder ran through her despite the burning chains.
She looked at her father, searching his face, silently pleading for an answer, for an explanation.
Arienne's lips parted, her voice shaking, barely audible. "Father… what did you do to me?"
But he merely looked at her.
Her breath came shallow and uneven as Lucien's voice echoed through the grand ceremonial hall, his words like iron shackles tightening around her already bound body.
"This was not the only treachery she committed," he declared, his voice smooth yet laced with venom. "After she learned to control her power, she orchestrated the very incident that solidified her place within the kingdom—the day she 'saved' the royal family."
A murmur rippled through the crowd, growing louder as Lucien continued. "The attack that nearly claimed the lives of the king, the queen, and Prince Vaelor… It was all a ruse. A carefully crafted deception to gain the kingdom's trust, to secure her place at the prince's side."
Arienne's lips parted slightly, stunned at how effortlessly they twisted the truth.
The attack…
She remembered it vividly—how she had barely turned eighteen, how she had been pulled from her celebration and thrown into chaos, how her magic had surged to protect those she had sworn loyalty to.
And now they dared to rewrite history, to paint her as the architect of that very nightmare?
"I could never do that," Arienne said, her voice hoarse but firm.
She lifted her head, shaking it as much as the magical binds allowed. "You know I couldn't."
Lucien regarded her with an almost pitiful expression. "And yet, we have proof."
A hush fell over the crowd as a figure stepped forward.
Seraphine.
Arienne's heart clenched as her younger sister moved with careful grace, stopping just before her. "I saw it," Seraphine murmured, her voice soft but steady.
"I found the evidence myself."