Amethyst Xylos's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

The council hall doors stood open when Amethyst arrived. She'd expected a closed room, maybe a handful of officials waiting to hear her case. Instead, benches lined both sides of the central aisle, packed with merchants, craftsmen, and minor nobles. At the far end, beneath the purple dragon throne, sat the noble who'd summoned her. He didn't rise. Didn't acknowledge her entrance. He simply gestured to the assembled crowd and said, "We're ready to vote." Amethyst walked down the center aisle, her boots loud against the warped floorboards of what had once been a guild hall. The building still wore its old purpose—shattered windows patched with cloth, vines creeping through cracks in the walls. This wasn't justice. This was theater. She stopped three paces from the throne and spoke before anyone else could. "You can't vote on what you haven't seen." She pulled a vial from her belt, the same twilight-shimmer potion that had cured the fever. Held it up where everyone could see. "This saved the captain's daughter. It saved twelve others. You want to exile the person who made it? Then look at it first." The noble's mouth tightened, but the crowd shifted. A woman in merchant's colors stood. Then another. Not speaking—just standing. The vote hadn't happened. Amethyst had made them choose between fear and memory, and memory had just become harder to ignore.