What would a fitting end be for Kelan and Gregor? do they get off scot-free? Stripped of titles and banished? publicly unalived?
The streets of Jinstain bustled with life as news crews wove through the crowds, cameras and microphones poised to catch the next big story.The trial of Kelan Benedict was a firestorm of gossip, but for those looking to dig deeper, Conor Brantley was quickly becoming an equally hot topic.He had risen from obscurity to a central figure in the battle for justice alongside Kerrigan Lokir, and with that rise came scrutiny—some of it malicious.But in Jinstain, the reporters seeking dirt found something quite different.The first crew stopped outside the Jinstain Community Center, where a few children played in the courtyard, laughter echoing through the bright, chilly afternoon. The center’s director, Jonathan, stood by the front door, watching the reporters with a mix of curiosity and wariness.He had worked under Priestess Rainna for years and had known Conor since he was a boy. The sight of the cameras immediately set him on edge, but he wasn’t about to let anyone tarnish Conor’s name
King Ryu Pinion sat in his private study, the heavy velvet curtains drawn tightly against the late afternoon sun. The chamber was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch across the polished stone floor.While there was modern lighting is much of the castle, the candles pleased him, so he insisted on their presents, at least in certain rooms.In the silence, he could hear only the soft crackle of the fire and the ticking of the ancient clock on the mantle. His mind, however, was anything but quiet.The trial against Kelan Benedict had dominated the capital for weeks now, pulling the eyes of the entire kingdom toward Kerrigan Lokir.Her growing influence disturbed him—there was a sense of inevitability in the way her popularity had blossomed, how the people spoke of her. Even within the High Council, there were whispers of admiration, quiet but dangerous.And Conor. Always Conor.The King’s jaw tightened at the thought of him. Conor Brantley,
The High Council chamber buzzed with a tense energy, the trial against Kelan Benedict reaching a fever pitch. Kerrigan stood at the center of it all, a figure of determination and resolve, but beneath the calm façade, a storm brewed within her.The days of presenting evidence, enduring cross-examinations, and watching Gregor’s smug indifference had taken their toll on her patience. She could feel Abraxas’s power surging in her veins, growing more difficult to control with every passing day.Today, they were finally at a critical point. Aileana, Mr. Nuri, and the rest of the legal team had worked tirelessly to compile the damning evidence—financial records, witness testimonies, and documentation linking Kelan and his family to corruption, extortion, and violence.The public was beginning to shift, murmurs of discontent with the Benedict family growing louder. Kerrigan could feel the weight of it, the pressure to see this through, to bring justice not only for herself but for the kingdom
The weight of the trial pressed heavily on Conor’s mind as he sat alone in his chambers. The High Council’s proceedings had grown more intense with each passing day, and though they were making progress against Kelan Benedict, the strain was becoming unbearable.Not just on Kerrigan, but on him as well. Their powers, while formidable, had become unpredictable. And Kerrigan—gods, Kerrigan—was suffering under the growing pressure of Abraxas’s power, and it was only getting worse.Conor rubbed his temples, feeling the familiar hum of energy just beneath his skin. It was always there, a constant reminder of Celia, the dragon soul that had chosen him as her Deinmaar. She had been quiet for so long, letting him navigate the complexities of the trial on his own. But now, as the tension between him and Kerrigan grew, he couldn’t help but wonder if her silence was deliberate.He needed answers. Needed guidance.For the first time in weeks, he closed his eyes and reached out to her, calling her
The corridors of the royal palace felt cold and distant as Conor made his way through the maze-like hallways, his mind preoccupied with the revelations from Celia the night before.He couldn’t stop thinking about the Valtas bond, about Kerrigan, and the growing weight of their intertwined destinies.But as much as the future pressed down on him, something deeper had begun to surface—questions about his past, specifically about his mother, Priestess Rainna.Rainna had always been a towering figure in his memory, a woman of grace and power, but also one who carried the burdens of the kingdom’s spiritual well-being.Now, with the trial underway, Kerrigan’s parents and his mother had been brought up more than once, Conor’s curiosity about Rainna’s connection to Kerrigan’s family gnawed at him.He needed answers.And there was only one person left who could provide them: the Duchess. She had been apart of things all those years ago, if the letters Kerrigan had found where genuine. Conor s
The atmosphere in the grand chamber of the High Council was thick with anticipation. Each session of Kelan Benedict’s trial seemed to draw more attention, and today was no different. The seats were filled with nobles, council members, and high-ranking officials, all waiting for the latest developments. Kerrigan and Conor had prepared meticulously, knowing that every word, every action, could tip the scales.Conor, as Deinmaar of Celia, had taken on a greater role in the trial. His presence was no longer just symbolic. People looked to him not only for spiritual guidance but also for political leadership. His words carried weight, and with Kerrigan’s growing influence, the two of them had become a formidable force. But Conor could feel the pressure mounting, the tension in the air growing heavier with each passing day.The trial had already stretched into weeks of evidence and testimony, but everyone in the room knew that the real battle was being fought beneath the surface—between the
The late afternoon sun bathed the capital in golden light as Conor stood next to Kerrigan, his eyes scanning the crowd gathered for the press conference.People had come in droves, eager to hear Kerrigan speak, to rally behind her cause in the ever-escalating trial against Kelan Benedict. The courtyard was filled with murmurs of anticipation, the tension in the air thick and palpable.Conor’s heart pounded, though not from the anxiety of the public event. It was something deeper—a gnawing sense of unease that had been building within him for days. Celia’s power, ever present inside him, had begun to feel different.Stronger, yes, but also less controlled. He and Kerrigan had always been able to rely on the golden motes of light that manifested when their dragons’ energies connected, a symbol of the balance between Celia’s wisdom and Abraxas’s raw force.But lately, those moments of harmony had grown more tenuous, slipping just out of their grasp.As Kerrigan took the stage, her voice c
The High Council chamber was colder today, its stone walls shadowed by the late afternoon light. Conor leaned against one of the carved pillars, his mind still replaying the chaotic scene from the press conference earlier.Kerrigan’s voice, once a clear command that rallied crowds, had faltered, and their bond—usually a source of strength—had nearly broken in front of the entire kingdom. Conor rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of Celia’s power, heavy and restless inside him.Kerrigan stood a few paces away, surrounded by Reilynn and Evelynn, her focus entirely on the conversation at hand. She was strategizing, discussing the next moves in the trial against Kelan Benedict, and though she exuded confidence, Conor could sense the tension simmering beneath her calm exterior.She was pushing harder, speaking louder, her influence growing with every passing day. The people were rallying behind her, and she was becoming more than a leader—she was becoming a symbol.Conor glanced at her,