Chapter 8 - The Ashes of Deception
By dawn, the banners of House Valerius had been hauled down from every tower in the capital, replaced by the silver-scaled standard of the true dragonblood line.
The Great Hall was packed to capacity. Noble lords who had once cheered for Elara’s execution now knelt silently on the stone floor, their heads bowed in submission as the truth of Aldric’s treason and the fabricated charges of sorcery echoed off the vaulted ceilings. The written confessions of the inner circle lay spread across the iron throne, exposing decades of lies, murders, and usurpation.
King Aldric, stripped of his crown and royal vestments, was brought before the assembly in plain irons, his spirit utterly broken.
"What shall be done with the usurper?" High Priest Morvath—who had quickly switched allegiance to survive—asked nervously from the foot of the dais.
Elara sat upon the ancient stone throne, her posture regal and unyielding. Resting comfortably across her lap was Ignis, now large enough to span the length of her torso, its silver scales catching the morning light streaming through the stained-glass windows.
"He shall not die in the Dragon Pit," Elara said, her voice echoing clearly through the hushed hall. "That pit was built for monsters, and he has earned a far more fitting fate."
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She stood up, looking down at the fallen king. "He shall live in the lower city as a common laborer, rebuilding every stone his guards destroyed, until he learns the true value of human life and honest work."
Aldric opened his mouth to protest, but the heavy hand of a guard clamped over his mouth, dragging him away from the hall forever.
