Volume 2 – Inheritance of Fire
Chapter 6 – The Summit: Day Three
The High Court chamber pulsed with tension thicker than steel. Day Three—the day of reckoning—had arrived with storm clouds lingering above Hollowreach, both in sky and spirit.
Where Day One offered wine and laughter, and Day Two churned through resistance and rhetoric, Day Three would etch change into stone or shatter everything we'd built.
I stood before the council again—no scroll this time. Just presence.
"Today we ratify. We codify. And we commit."
The air hummed. My officers flanked the room, notes in hand, eyes sharper than blades. Tyla already had the final versions of the educational and magical regulation mandates ready. Elric held the infrastructure and trade drafts. Joric oversaw the military amendments. Rowen stood watch near the door, reading posture and tone better than any book.
For the first few hours, the chamber worked like a forge. Each reform hammered into policy:
• The Kingdom Reformation Act passed by a narrow but steady margin.
• The Rights Charter faced debate—especially among older houses—but Calderon's testimony about magical literacy and non-human contributions turned the tide.
• The Military Chain of Command Doctrine sparked heated arguments but survived with revisions granting regional lords representation in royal war councils.
Amendments were finalized. Quills scratched on parchment like whispers of history being rewritten.
But the mood shifted as we approached the clause on judicial sovereignty—stripping nobles of immunity and enforcing crown-appointed magistrates as the final authority in capital crimes.
Lord Henswick stood. His chair scraped the marble like a blade unsheathed.
"Marshal Kael!" he bellowed, voice ringing with fury. "What is the meaning of this? A ruler from another domain has walked into our summit without warning? Without consent?"
All heads turned as the door at the far end of the hall opened, guards stepping back.
Darius entered.
Clad in battle-worn plate, cloak stained by road dust, flanked by two dozen soldiers in the unified crest of House Feldrin and Hollowreach.
"You invite this foreign sovereign into our house?" Henswick barked. "This is an offense to every seat in this chamber!"
I didn't respond immediately.
Because Darius strode forward like thunder given shape, the silence broken only by the hard echo of his boots on stone.
He didn't stop until he stood beside me.
"He was invited," I said calmly. "By me. He answers not as a stranger, but as an ally."
Henswick marched forward a few paces, tone lowering to a dangerous hiss.
"What did you trade to bring him here, Magus? What price do the rest of us now pay for your private alliances?"
Darius stepped between us, his voice cutting clean.
"There was no trade. There was no price. There is only bond—earned in another life, forged again in this one."
He turned to the room, voice rising.
"I , formerly known as Marshal Kael, am Darius Feldrin, Commander of the North Wall Legions, protector of the Spineholds, and the last line between the fractured north and the beastlands. This man," he said, gesturing to me, "is my brother. Our domains are bound by steel, blood, and belief."
"Those who doubt him, doubt me. And let it be known—I have crushed dissent before breakfast."
A ripple of laughter broke the tension.
Henswick opened his mouth but found no words. He returned to his seat, pale and quiet.
With Darius present, the final decrees gained momentum.
• Noble privilege clauses were restructured.
• Territorial registration mandates passed.
• The capital punishment reform—including the reclassification of bondservant conscription—was ratified with stricter oversight clauses.
By dusk, the final vote sealed the reforms into law.
Ezra appeared at my side, discreetly sliding a new folio into my palm as the nobles filed out—some triumphant, some wounded, all changed.
In the quiet that followed, I opened the leather-bound dossier. A noble from the western range, Lord Richemont, was circled in red.
Unstable. Power hungry. Waiting for an excuse.
A note beside it read:
If there's to be a fight, it will start with him.
I closed the folio and looked toward the darkened windows.
The summit was over.
The kingdom had been reshaped.
But I could already feel the tremor beneath the stone.
The Grand Hall had emptied.
What remained was the echo of choices made and a kingdom reborn beneath ink and oath. The chandeliers flickered low, bathing the chamber in the soft hush of a day well-won—and yet, only beginning.
I sat near the high dais, elbows resting on a table cluttered with half-drained goblets, abandoned scrolls, and sealed reform ledgers.
Footsteps approached.
Ezra entered first, his coat dusted with shadow and stormlight. Darius followed, silent as a mountain, still wearing the armor he'd ridden in with. He offered a brief nod before slumping into the nearest seat.
None of us spoke at first.
We didn't need to.
Ezra poured a glass from the decanter left behind. "You held the room like a wolf among hounds," he said, swirling the wine. "They were too busy snarling at one another to see you move."
I nodded. "We moved them. Together."
Darius unfastened a gauntlet and leaned back. "You brought vision. Ezra scattered the knives. I just walked in loud enough to shut them up."
I let a tired grin break the exhaustion. "Still—it worked."
Ezra reached inside his coat and set another scroll on the table. "Updates from the field. Naomi's forces are tightening their borders, but she's not resisting. She's preparing. As for Soren... his ships were seen passing through the Fjordwind Strait. He's not far."
I glanced at the fire. "Then the circle will be whole again soon."
Darius folded his arms. "It's strange. In that other life—our old world—we built a kingdom out of code and dreams. Now here we are, shaping one from ash and memory."
I exhaled, slowly. "I thank God we landed on the same side."
Ezra met my gaze. "I've built a network in your Domain Darius. Deep roots. Traders, spies, a few Warlords... they're yours to command. Just say the word."
Darius paused. Then nodded. "Thank you."
Darius stood, looking toward the shadowed hall. "We'll catch up more once the others arrive."
Ezra tapped the side of his glass. "For now—rest, Magus. You've earned it."
The fire cracked softly behind us, as the night sealed our bond.
Tomorrow, the kingdom would begin to move. But tonight, we stood—three of five—at the edge of something greater.