Chapter 5 - Words Written Across the Heavens
The crowd gasped in unison. Thousands of necks craned upward, reading the colossal letters glowing in the sky above the capital.
THE SHIELD HAS FOUND THE KINGDOM’S GREATEST ENEMY. IT IS ALREADY INSIDE THE WALLS. THE FRAUDULENT PRINCE LUCIEN VOSS HAS STOLEN THE WORK OF ILYRA VOSS. HE HAS PERVERTED THE OATH OF PROTECTION TO SHIELD TYRANNY AND STARVE THE INNOCENT.
The words hung in the air like burning neon, clearly legible to every citizen, every soldier on the ramparts, and every noble in the high gallery.
Absolute silence gripped the plaza. You could hear the fluttering of a pigeon's wings against the stone tiles.
Prince Lucien froze on the dais. The torch slipped from the executioner's hand and fell into the snow, hissing out into a puff of grey smoke. Lucien’s face drained of all color, turning the ash-white hue of a corpse.
"Lies!" Lucien screamed, his voice cracking with sheer panic as he pointed wildly at the sky. "It is Vulgarian witchcraft! Magic illusions! Guards, cut her down! Arrest her!"
Not a single guard moved.
The royal guards standing around the pyre stared up at the glowing letters in the sky, then down at Ilyra, and slowly lowered their halberds. The realization had struck the entire city like a lightning bolt. The falling snow, the cracking shield, the missing grain, the starving refugees—it all aligned with the blazing truth written across the heavens.
"Look at him!" a voice shouted from the front of the crowd—an elderly stonecutter whose face bore a striking resemblance to Ilyra’s late father. "Look at the armor!"
Before Lucien could draw his sword, a strange, metallic clanging echoed across the platform.
Every single piece of golden ornamentation, decorative weapon, and gilded badge adorning Prince Lucien’s ceremonial armor suddenly began to vibrate violently. The gold filigree peeled away from his steel breastplate like liquid metal obeying an unseen magnet.
Lucien cried out in terror, stumbling backward as the golden pieces detached themselves completely from his clothes.
The gold did not fall to the ground.
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Instead, dozens of sharp, golden arrowheads, gilded dagger fragments, and metallic seals hovered in mid-air, spinning rapidly in a tight, synchronized circle.
And then, with terrifying precision, every single golden weapon and ornament turned directly toward Prince Lucien’s heart.
