The mist still lingered in the forests of Levian, but within the walls of the capital, it was not fog that cloaked the streets—it was fear.
The first cries began at dawn.
"Show us the King!" a woman wailed, clutching a child in her arms. "If he is truly dead, show us the body!"
Hundreds gathered in the square before the palace gates. Farmers, scholars, merchants, and children. Some held candles. Others bore torn flags of House Hale, stained with grief. Murmurs grew into roars.
Inside the palace, Kael Vireon stood before a window, veiled in silk and shadow. He watched the gathering crowd with narrow eyes.
"They grow bolder," muttered his aide.
Kael turned, his voice a soft, venomous whisper. "Then let them bleed for their insolence."
He raised his hand, fingers coiled with a red sigil. A crimson flare pulsed through the stone.
"Invoke the Crown's Curse," he commanded.
Outside, the Red Guard descended.
Clad in black and crimson, they marched through the crowd without warning. Mages among them lifted their staffs and began chanting forbidden rites.
"Cruor Dividium!" — ('Split the blood.')
The first screams tore through the morning fog.
A boy clutched his father as the man collapsed, blood pouring from his eyes and mouth. A mother with her infant strapped to her back screamed as a wave of red energy burst through the air, tearing flesh from bone.
"No more lies! Show us the—"
The man never finished his plea. His body cracked mid-sentence, folded by a force unseen. His limbs twisted, mouth frozen in silent agony.
Panic erupted. People ran, trampling one another, clawing at walls, slipping in blood. The square became a pit of death. Silence was shattered by the wails of orphans and the groans of the dying.
Kael Vireon watched it all.
He smiled.
In the heart of Levian, peace had died.
Far away, deep within the forest, Leon Vael crouched beneath a curtain of vines, unaware of the massacre unfolding.
He listened only to the rhythmic beat of his heart, the distant call of a raven, and the soft pulse of magic within the flame-shaped pendant.
He still believed there was time.
But the mist that cloaked him now carried more than silence.
It carried blood.