Page 10 of Sundered By Fate

But as he shifted nervously, sweeping his sights over the other assembled townsfolk, Aric saw nothing but haunted looks, fear—they backed away from him. The elders of Thornhaven clustered around him at the council chamber steps, Mayor Virida with her countenance troubled; Bastian watching him with cold disdain. And with that look shared, Aric knew they wouldn't stand by him in this, not against the might of the Pureblade Order.

Traitors' smiles all around.

The templars reached up for their hilts with gauntleted fists.

What did Aric expect? He'd always been alone.

Cyrus, his face contorted with righteous anger, pointed an accusing finger at Aric. "Aric Solarian," he bellowed, his voice carrying across the square, "you stand accused of treason against the realm and collaboration with demonic forces!"

The crowd gasped and murmured as they absorbed Cyrus's words. They were words that would have frozen Aric's blood, once upon a time. That he had sometimes dreamed about hearing, back when he was still young and foolish enough to think that true justice might be found in the realm.

Cyrus wheeled his horse around to face the crowd. "Behold! Your so-called hero—a traitor to our kind! He dabbled in forbidden magics, and consorted with the demons themselves. He was tried and condemned to death, but his dark allies spirited him away. Do not be swayed by his lies and deceit!"

Aric folded his arms over his chest, back straight as a lance. "I have always served the realm—just not your twisted version of it."

His voice carried with a strength that surprised even him, a strength that had been forged in fire and shadow. Malekith'ssigil ached reassuringly along his spine, damaged though it was. A promise of a future—so Aric wanted to believe. Not yet. But so close.

Cyrus's sneer faltered ever so slightly, replaced by a hint of uncertainty as he realized this was not the meek researcher he'd once bullied. But he quickly recovered. "Your corruption ends here, Solarian."

Cyrus raised his hand, cutting off Aric's protest with a fierce gesture. "The accusations stand, Solarian," he declared. "You did not merely dabble in forbidden magics—you became ensnared in their clutches. You disappeared from the realm, only to reemerge in the company of demonkind." He spat the words as if they were poison.

"Your very presence is a threat to the safety of these people and all we have sworn to protect," Cyrus continued. "On the eve of your execution, your demonic co-conspirators attacked the Pureblade outpost and spirited you away. I would have hunted you down myself, had it not been for . . ."

"For what?" Aric demanded. "For your own cowardice?"

Cyrus's nostrils flared as the people of Thornhaven gasped.

Aric took another step forward, and the townsfolk shifted uneasily in response. "I never asked for their aid," he said, with a calmness that surprised even him. "It was your order's cruelty and lack of preparation that allowed me to be captured in the first place."

Several onlookers gasped in shock at Aric's brazen defiance. Even Virida seemed taken aback by his raw honesty.

Cyrus narrowed his eyes. "Is that what you tell yourself to justify your treachery?"

"I don't have to justify anything to you or your order," Aric shot back, some of Malekith's poise slipping away. "My loyalty is to the people of this realm, first and always."

Cyrus's jaw clenched, lips thinning. "And where have you been hiding all this time, Solarian?" He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial hush that still carried over the crowd. "What pacts did you make with your demonic masters in exchange for your release?"

Aric met the inquisitor's glare with one of his own. He would not allow Cyrus to twist the narrative of that terrible night any more than he already had. "I made no pacts." His voice rang out like a bell. "The demons captured me only because your order abandoned me. Left me to die."

Cyrus recoiled as though struck, a hollow victory in that incredulous look—but Aric couldn't stop himself now. "And when I did escape, it was no thanks to your order's supposed protection. You were too busy trying to bury my research to bother trying to save me—or anyone else."

The acting townmaster, Virida, sensing the growing tension, stepped forward from the crowd. "Stop!" she shouted, her voice strong and authoritative. "You don't know what you're talking about."

She turned to face the inquisitor, her expression stern. "This man," she gestured to Aric, "saved our town from a demon attack not two weeks past. He staggered into our town half-starved and badly wounded after escaping the demons, yet he risked his own life to protect us, and you're accusing him of being in league with them? That's nonsense."

Several townsfolk nodded in agreement, their faces softening as they looked at Aric. "He's been nothing but kind and helpful since he arrived," one of them said.

"He helped me fix my roof after the storm," another added.

"And the sewage tunnels," Kalmo said. "Can't forget those."

Cyrus turned on the townsfolk, his patience clearly wearing thin. "You've all been deceived by his demonic tricks!" heshouted. "Who knows what manner of dark enchantments he's used to ensnare your minds?"

Aric seized the opportunity, stepping closer to the Lord Inquisitor. "This is all beside the point. I have information that must be delivered to the Silver Tower, and the Silver Tower alone." He squared his shoulders, meeting Cyrus's stare head-on. "I won't allow you or your order to stand in my way."

Cyrus's expression darkened with fury. "You overstep your bounds, Solarian." His voice dripped with poison. "There is no knowledge worth keeping from us—if you mean to put yourself beyond our law, then that only confirms your guilt."

"My time imprisoned in the demon realms has given me insights into threats you can't begin to comprehend," Aric said, careful not to reveal too much about the anomaly or his experiences. "If you truly care about the safety of the realm, you'll allow me to present this information to the proper authorities."

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