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Darcelle's POV
Morning came with a heavy sky, the kind that pressed down on your chest as though it already knew something dreadful would happen. By the time we left the guest house, the streets of Ardenfel were already waking up—vendors calling, children darting through alleys, the stink of fish and dust filling the air. We made straight for the magistrate's office, determined to see Elisha freed.
The guards at the entrance crossed their halberds in front of us.
"You can't enter," one barked, his face dull and mean like a mule.
I frowned. "Why? The door's wide open."
His companion sneered down at me as if I were dirt. "The court isn't open yet."
Annoyance surged up my throat—I was ready to put him in his place—but Paige, ever the peacemaker, stepped forward.
"Then when will it open?" she asked, her tone light but edged with authority. "We came here for our friend."
The quieter guard, the one who at least seemed human, replied, "Nine o'clock."
Nathan, who had been standing beside me silent as a shadow, suddenly turned and walked away without a word. His cloak flared as he moved.
Something about his silence gnawed at me. I followed him, lowering my voice. "You're quiet, Nathan. Too quiet. Your silence always means something."
He stopped, glancing at me over his shoulder. His eyes weren't cold this time—they were sharp, worried. For the first time since I met him, I could read him. And what I saw unsettled me.
"If we do anything stupid," he murmured, "we'll make things worse. Not better."
I smirked. "So you're saying I should just stand here and be stupid? No thank you."
He didn't answer. He just kept walking, leaving me with a sour taste in my mouth.
Paige and Xavier caught up. Paige cocked her head at me. "Why do you look like someone just rejected your love confession?"
Before I could retort, Xavier gasped dramatically. "Oh my gods—don't tell me you confessed to Nathan and he rejected you! Darcelle, why him of all people? He's—"
"Nothing like that happened!" I snapped, cutting him off before he built a whole play out of it. "He just looked… worried."
That shut them both up for a moment. Surprised stares followed me as I strode forward.
We found Nathan seated in front of a sweet stall, of all places. He didn't buy anything. He didn't even glance at us when we joined him. Fifty long minutes passed in silence. The noise of the town, the laughter of children, the smell of roasted nuts—it all felt like mockery.
I knew Elisha's past. Thief. Green Raider. Outcast. But he wasn't a fool, and he wouldn't steal—not a spear, not anything. If I ever got my hands on that lying store owner, I'd rip his heart out and present it to the king. The thought made me scoff aloud.
Nathan finally broke the silence. "Ten minutes. Then the court opens."
He rose, cloak shifting around him like a dark wing. Sometimes, I wondered—was he helping Elisha because he cared? Or because his pride couldn't handle the idea of walking away?
Paige pouted behind me. "I knew that…"
Xavier rolled his eyes. "No you didn't."
I chuckled despite the tension. "Come on. Let's move."
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The magistrate's office reeked of stale ink and arrogance. When we entered, the middle-aged man behind the desk didn't even glance up at us. Paige tried her best to be polite, bowing slightly.
"Good morning, sir. We're here because our friend—Elisha—was wrongly accused by a weapon store owner—"
"I know of the case," the magistrate interrupted without warmth. "The owner, Mr. Luke, reported it. He claims the boy did indeed steal."
Xavier immediately cut in, his voice sharp. "That's impossible. I was with him. We left the store right after hearing the price, went to a clothing shop, then to eat, and straight back to the guest house."
The magistrate raised a brow. "You're his friend. Naturally, you'd cover for him. After you returned to the guest house, he could have left again."
Paige protested. "That doesn't even make sense! We got back around six—when would he have had time to steal and for the owner to report to you already?"
I slammed my hand on the desk, scowling. "This is a sham. And you, sir, are a sham of a magistrate. We didn't come here for games—we came to get our friend back. This is abuse of power, plain and simple."
The magistrate's eyes went cold. "This is Ardenfel. Our rules stand. And let me warn you: if you continue running your mouths, the boy will be beheaded immediately."
That was when Nathan snapped.
He stepped forward, every stride slow, deliberate. The air in the office seemed to thicken around him. His cloak whispered against the floor, and the silver bells in his hair chimed faintly like war drums.
"First of all," his voice cut through the room like steel, "you have no right to talk to us like that. Second, you have no right to take bribes and condemn a man without proof. And third…" He leaned forward, eyes burning with quiet fury. "People like you—weak men with scraps of power who think it makes them gods—you're the most useless of all. Worthless. If during this trial you don't set him free…" He paused, letting the silence hang heavy. "…I can't assure you what will happen next."
The magistrate actually froze, lips parted, sweat beading at his temple. No one moved until Nathan turned sharply and stormed out. His cloak flared like a black flame behind him.
We followed, silent. Even Paige didn't have a quip this time.
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The trial chamber was already crowded. Townsfolk packed the benches, faces alight with ghoulish anticipation. They wanted blood. Ardenfel hadn't had an execution in months, and they were hungry for it. The room stank of sweat and excitement.
The magistrate entered with pomp, followed by the store owner—Mr. Luke—his face smug. Witnesses lined up, spewing lies, each word feeding the crowd's bloodlust. We weren't even given a chance to speak.
"Is this what passes for justice here?" I muttered under my breath, fingers twitching for my blade.
Then Elisha was dragged in.
He looked half-dead already, blood on his face, white hair tangled and falling over his eyes. The guards threw him to the floor like he was trash. My chair screeched as I almost rose, fury boiling in my chest.
The magistrate barely glanced at him. "This man is guilty of theft and deceit. He is hereby sentenced to death."
The crowd cheered.
And then—Elisha laughed.
It wasn't a normal laugh. It was broken, jagged, edged with madness. The sound cut through the chamber and silenced even the crowd. His head hung low, shoulders shaking. When he looked up, his bloody face twisted into a grin, hair shadowing his eyes.
"Who would've thought?" he rasped. "I always imagined I'd die in some battle. A heroic death. Not here. Not in this blood-hungry hole of a town. No—false accusations. How laughable. My life's nothing but a joke, isn't it? I bet Mae is laughing right now, wherever she is."
"Shut him up!" the magistrate barked.
A guard struck him across the head. Elisha collapsed, groaning, before being dragged out toward the execution ground.
We rose instantly, following the crowd that surged after him like vultures. In the chaos, I looked around—Nathan was gone.
My stomach dropped.
"Where the hell did he go?" I whispered, but no one answered.
And still, Elisha was being dragged to his death.
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