"Melivora… Mitir…" he thought to himself as the door slowly creaked shut. Alone in the courtyard, the silent wind caressed his face gently, brushing against the bouquet of thorny roses. He gulped as he looked down at the roses, gripping the stems and pricking himself on the thorns, drawing blood.

Turning away from the door, he walked slowly towards the statue, its allure as captivating as ever. The lady's eyes, carved with exquisite detail, gazed at the expansive milky blue sky. Her subtle smile seemed to reach out towards the heavens, and the clear water gushing from her fingertips formed a delicate bridge between her and the sky. The water cascaded down her robes, into the intricate inscriptions, echoing the Omari glow.

He placed his hand on the statue and peered into the shared sky. "I wonder if what you and I see is the same," he whispered to the statue. "Then again," he paused, glancing at the bouquet of roses, "I wonder if what any of us see is the same," he muttered as he placed the bouquet at the foot of the statue.

Just as he set the roses down, a deafening bang erupted from the hall. The air trembled, and the walls of the hall shook under an oppressive force. The courtyard quaked, the ground vibrated from the surge of energy. Flowers swayed wildly as Arnos stumbled and fell, his gaze locked on the floor. He looked up at the door to the hall, his thoughts racing with images of Ceru and Wendall. In a burst of urgency, he rushed towards the door, gritting his teeth in the process.

He grabbed the large door's handle, sweat mingling with blood on his palm. His breath quickened with anticipation as he flung the door open.

Chaos.

Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed Arnos by the collar, yanking him back with force. He was flung into the courtyard, his small frame soaring through the air. As he tumbled, he reached out desperately towards the statue's outstretched hand, missing it by inches before crashing into a patch of greenery. The soft soil cushioned his fall, but the impact left him dazed.

At the door stood Ceru, his chest heaving, his face etched with deep concern. The calm, aloof demeanour Arnos had always known was shattered, replaced by a man on the brink of panic.

"What's going on?" Arnos gasped, scrambling to his feet, his voice trembling with fear.

"QUIET!" Ceru's voice cracked as he slammed the door shut, the sound reverberating through the courtyard. He stood rigid, biting his thumb as his eyes darted around, desperate for a solution.

Arnos stared at him, shock and confusion swirling in his mind. This wasn't the Ceru he knew. The confident, aloof teen had been replaced by someone visibly unravelling under pressure.

"The Elders…" Ceru muttered, his voice barely audible as he struggled to find the right words. "Why did they come?..."

"The Elders?" Arnos echoed, dread creeping into his voice. His gaze shifted to the door, where the thuds and roars from within the hall grew louder, more menacing.

"Where is Wendall?" Arnos's heart pounded, panic rising in his chest.

Ceru clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. "The senior members of the Omari arrived, even the Elders," he said through gritted teeth. "When they heard the name Sicarius… they demanded your execution."

The weight of those words hit Arnos like a punch to the gut. "Where is Wendall?" he repeated, trembling with dread.

Ceru's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and frustration. "WORRY ABOUT YOURSELF!" he roared, his rage breaking through. "DON'T YOU REALISE WHAT THIS MEANS?"

"WE KNEW WHAT IT MEANT THE MOMENT ADAR INVITED ME TO THIS GODFORSAKEN BANQUET!" Arnos shot back, tears streaming down his face, his voice raw with emotion.

Ceru froze, taken aback by Arnos's sudden outburst. For a moment, the air between them hung heavy with tension. Then, something shifted in Ceru's expression. The anger faded, replaced by a deep, sorrowful resolve.

He stepped closer to Arnos, placing a hand gently on his head. "I won't let it happen," he whispered, his voice soft, almost tender. Arnos looked up, seeing the determination returning to Ceru's eyes.

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"I'm sorry for scaring you," Ceru said, his voice steadier now. "Wendall is fine, I hope… but the Elders, I never expected them to come…" he paused, quickly glancing towards the door "they're beyond anyone's control, they answer to no one but the patriarch. They haven't shown themselves publicly since the 'Night of Great Purgatory'. Not even the Young Mistress could sway them."

"Even the Young Mistress?" he echoed rhetorically, panic slowly regaining its foothold in his voice. "But she said—"

Another loud bang reverberated from the hall, shaking its foundations and causing Arnos to wince as the walls shuddered violently. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice edged with rising fear as the quakes from within the hall grew louder.

Ceru's brows furrowed with concern. "Wendall is buying us some time," he muttered, his voice trailing off into deep, speculative thought.

"Time?"

"Yes, time," Ceru replied, his eyes fixed on the violently shaking door. "At least until Father and the Azure Family arrive," he added, his voice heavy with unease.

Arnos watched as a faint blue glow illuminated the inscriptions etched within Ceru's robes. The air around him subtly crackled as he turned away, his back appearing large and burdened to the young boy—like a tree standing firm in a turbulent current.

Ceru steadily marched towards the door, each step laden with growing resolve. "Stay here," he warned, his deep blue eyes fixed ahead, avoiding Arnos's gaze.

"WAIT—" Arnos cried out, his panic-stricken voice cracking as the reality of the looming danger sank in.

Ceru opened the door and leapt into the hall, slamming it shut with a violent thud.

"CERU!" Arnos wailed as he chased after him. The sudden realisation, combined with the new tremors that shook the hall, intensified the anguish clawing at his mind. Each step toward the door felt heavier, the distance seeming greater with every stride. The closer he got, the more vivid the shouts and screams became. Another deafening thud rendered Arnos immobile, his small body reeling under the pressure.

He collapsed at the foot of the door, summoning every ounce of strength in his frail body to grasp the handle. Grimacing, he raised himself, the shouts from the hall pierced his ears. The violent tremors threatened his balance, while the oppressive pressure from the hall bore down on him.

He pushed against the door with all his remaining strength, but to no avail—it was sealed shut.

"Ceru you idiot," Arnos groaned, his suspicions substantiated, he pushed again with all his might, but the door would not budge.

His heart raced, his breathing shallow, as adrenaline surged through his veins. He pounded on the door each blow increasing in pace and power, mimicking his rising anguish, his wails merging with the chaos inside, his voice raw from desperation.

"Open…please…I'm begging you" he pleaded, the chaos inside the hall intensifying, his throat aching from his screams, his hand bloodied from pounding the door.

Silence.

An unexpected silence suddenly washed over the hall, eerie and ominous. The previous quakes and shudders were met with a very foreboding yet anticlimactic end. Arnos slowly sank to his knees, the silence louder and more oppressive than the pandemonium. His imagination rampaged as stray thoughts of the worst kind echoed in his mind.

"Please be okay…" he shakily whispered to himself, placing his ear onto the cold door in an attempt to gauge the situation within the hall.

Deafening silence.

He desperately pounded on the door with renewed vigour, again and again, until it was flung open from the inside, sending Arnos tumbling face-first into the hall.

He slowly raised his head, the chaotic thoughts no longer waging war, the silence no longer eerie as he gazed at the unexpected scene.

The hall was filled with adults and youngsters alike, grown men and women amongst those of the 'Five Great Families' were seated at tables that had been recently moved back into place. They were seemingly undamaged, perhaps due to the subtle glow from inscriptions that were fading in real time. The pillars, the walls, the chandeliers, even the chairs themselves were all subtly glowing with inscriptions which were growing dim.

Arnos could spot familiar faces within the hall, a large burly man, who was no longer wearing his stained apron but finely crafted Azurian robes. His dark hair mixed with grey no longer uncovered but slicked back as he stood towards the far end of the hall, his expression solemn. He was surrounded by those from the inscription hall.

He quickly scanned the rest of the hall, towards the centre were a group of masked figures, all dressed in Meras' robes, their grey masks inscribed with silver inscriptions and towards the front of the group was an unmasked elderly lady. Her tall imposing figure and sharp features were not lost with age and instantly marked her as an Elder of the Meras Family. Her gloomy ashen grey hair and metallic argent eyes were fixed on a figure in front of her.

Arnos glanced at the throne, which had been empty until now. Seated upon it was a man with a very familiar face.

No longer in his waistcoat and glasses but dressed in distinguished Azurian robes, his hair slicked back, revealing his chiselled jaw and sharp features. His face was cleanly shaven with a commanding and dignified presence, Arnos instantly recognised him. It was Adar Omari.