The sky wasn't blue anymore.
It was black.
A huge swarm of insects filled the air, wings buzzing like thunder. They blocked out the sun and made it hard to breathe. The crowd of nobles started to scream as the swarm came down, not randomly, but with purpose.
With order.
With anger.
Guards dropped their weapons. Archers hesitated, unsure whether to shoot or run.
In the middle of the stage, five prisoners stood chained up. They were covered in bruises and blood.
Nai, Putol, Ben, and Mira looked weak from torture. They could barely keep their heads up.
Elder Peter was slumped over, barely conscious.
Next to them stood Aiah. Her arms were locked in thick gloves covered with glowing runes, magic that stopped her from using her powers. Her fire was sealed. But her eyes didn't show fear. They showed anger.
Up on the royal balcony, King Geoffrey didn't move. For once, his usual smug smile wavered.
Only for a moment.
