Lyria's Arc

Chapter 12 of 9

The guilty judge was gone, and the trials fell apart within the hour. With no head judge to run the bench, the recruits milled in the great hall like scattered sheep. Guards argued over who held authority. Someone said the whole competition would be canceled by nightfall. Lyria stood in the noise and felt her chance to earn her place slipping away. She had unmasked the enemy and lost the trials in the same breath. Veritas found her at the edge of the crowd. "The bench will not sit," the judge said. "No head. No verdicts. The trials are suspended." The mask hid every feeling. The voice did not. It had gone quiet and final. "Unless order is restored, they end today." "Then restore it," Lyria said. "You're a judge. Take the bench." "I take cases no one else will touch. I do not command a competition." Veritas paused. "I need a reason the recruits will accept. A clean one." Lyria's mind raced. The recruits would follow proof, not orders. She had spent this whole trial proving things. "You have your reason," she said. "The judge who fled was corrupt. I named the clasp. The dying recruit named the bench. That's why the head is empty. Tell them the truth. A traitor ran, and the trials go on without him." "The truth may cause a riot," Veritas said. "The lie already has." Adrian pushed through the crowd to reach her. He had partnered with Lyria to win the bonded duel, a prince hiding his name among the recruits, mocking then trusting her by turns. "Half of them think you drove the judge out," he said, flat. "The other half think you're next." "Then help me fix it," Lyria said. Adrian studied her, then gave one short nod. He climbed the bench steps beside Veritas and raised both hands. The hall knew his bearing, even without his name. Silence spread. "The judge who ran was a traitor," Adrian called. "He sabotaged these trials from his own seat. He's the one who fled. Not us." Lyria stepped up beside him. "I read him. Veritas confirmed it. The corruption is gone from the bench." She turned to the judge. "Name a new head. Let the trials finish clean." Veritas was silent a long moment. Then the judge climbed to the empty center seat and sat. "I take the bench," Veritas said. "By the authority of this court, the trials continue." The mask turned to Lyria. "You gave me a reason. It held." The recruits settled. The guards stood down. The competition would go on. But Veritas leaned close, voice low. "The traitor fled with a purpose, not in fear. He knows the final trial. He knows you." The judge straightened. "He will not run twice. He will come for the finish, and he will come for you."