Chapter 58. Reckoning

The place of judgment was not grand or opulent. It was called the Blood Court because it was where history was bled dry of excuses, and its current form reflected its purpose: simple, severe, and absolute.

They stood in a vast, subterranean chamber carved entirely from black obsidian, naturally cool and magically resistant. There were no windows, only towering, slender pillars that held aloft a ceiling lost in shadows. Torches burning with a crimson, smokeless flame provided the only light, reflecting off the polished black stone to create the illusion that the floor was a pool of spilled blood.

Seated in a crescent atop a three-tiered dais were the nine remaining members of the Unified Council—a desperate quorum hastily assembled from the remnants of the Moon and Flame Courts. At the center sat the Regent, Lyra, a veteran Guardian known for her merciless pragmatism, flanked by the senior elder of the Flameborn and the last surviving member of Theron’s lineage, who looke