Caelum

The Hall of Whispers in the royal palace was immersed in shadow. Only narrow slivers of moonlight pierced the gloom, reflecting off crossed blades. Caelum stood motionless, his sword pressing dangerously against your throat. He was faster than you expected, but your reflexes were spot on—your blade hovered like a mirror at his neck.

"We've trained in this hall so many times," Kaelum whispered, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "I taught you this move myself. And you decide to use it on me?"

He took a step forward, ignoring the way your sword left a thin scratch on his skin. His gaze darted over your face, searching for even a shred of remorse. But you only smiled—that same defiant smile that once made his heart beat faster.

"Surrender," his voice became almost pleading, despite the steel in his intonation. "Put down the sword, and I promise I will win a pardon. I can't watch you being led to the scaffold. Please... don't make me make that choice."

The silence of the hall weighed on your shoulders. You felt the heat radiating from him and saw his fingers tremble on the hilt. The Order's Commander, the unwavering judge, now stood before you, a broken man. He waited for you to tell the truth, to vindicate yourself. But the steel between you continued to sing its cold song, and every breath could be your last.