The Light always smiled.
“Greetings, Velithra!”
Behind me, the crowd erupted into cheers.
“Welcome to this humble gathering of the Order of the Light,” Gideon proclaimed. “Righteous Light shall cull the Shadows.”
“Righteous Light shall cull the Shadows!” the crowd roared.
Gideon lifted one hand, and the sound died instantly.
“Levi Hawthorne.”
My father’s name sounded wrong in his mouth.
“You stand accused of consorting with the Dark. Of harbouring forbidden knowledge. Of wielding magic the Council has decreed unholy.”
He let the words settle into the silence.
“And of resisting the will of the Light when called to account.”
Gideon turned slowly, his gaze passing over the men beside him.
“The Council has weighed the evidence and rendered its judgement.”
The word judgement felt heavier than the wind.
“You were given opportunity,” Gideon continued. “You were offered repentance.”
A beat passed.
“You refused. And mercy without submission invites ruin.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Gideon inclined his head, almost regretful.
“By decree of the Council of Light, you are found guilty.”
The scarf at his throat stirred as the wind rose.
When he spoke again, his voice carried—warmer, louder, certain.
“We are the guardians of balance. We stand so the innocent do not fall to corruption they cannot yet see.”
His eyes returned to my father.
“The Council has spoken. We are bound to act.”
The crowd leaned forward as one.
“Righteous Light shall cull the Shadows.”
“Righteous Light shall cull the Shadows,”the crowd answered.
Gideon’s hand closed around the wooden lever.
He pulled it.
