The grandest most ornate building in all of the Ivory was the Halls of the Fated. Or, the Ivory’s shadow as some called it. It was a giant cathedral of grandeur magnitude built in the very center of Wighthall. The Halls of the Fated not only served as the Highlord's home but the large main room functioned as a court of law.

The main room was circular in shape with a ceiling spanning upwards to twenty feet. Six giant stone pillars sat perfectly aligned against the walls swiveling around the entirety of the room itself. All six of the pillars were carved with intricate engravings of glyphs each symbolizing the great families of the Ivory.

The floor of the great room was mostly made with cobbled stone, much like the stairs that led to it. However, at the very center of the room was dark and sanded wood shaped and carved to fit perfectly into the floor acting as the centerpiece of the court.

Sat at the very end of the room completely opposite of the arched entrance were three throne-like chairs carved from the finest Ivorian wood. Gilded with dimly lit blue stones carved alongside the back of the chair’s resting piece. Sitting on these throne-like chairs were the rulers of Wighthall. The Castor family and their seer

Sitting in the centered chair was Jayles Castor, the face of the family, a traditional man who stuck to the roots of his ancestors. Described as an honorable man with wisdom beyond his years. Sitting to his left was his wife, Willow Castor. A woman described to be gentle and kind. A trait lacked by most High’borns of Ikorum. Sitting to the right of Jayles was Seer Yanu, a plain looking elderly man who bore no royal blood but was instead respected highly by the Castor family.

A booming knock echoed throughout the large round hall. The three had been awaiting this knock with anticipation.

“Let them in if you will.” Jayles said to one of the warriors standing guard by the edge of the room.

The warrior bowed his head and made his way towards the ornate door. Using the help of another nearby soldier, the two grabbed the gilded handles of the doors pulling them open at the same time.

With the doors opened for them, Iris, Renzeel, and her warriors made their way into the Halls of the Fated. Iris nervously glanced around the room, eyeing every soldier standing guard. The huntress then felt a hand press upon her shoulder, firmly guiding her into a halt at the center of the room standing atop the dark sanded wood. Iris could feel a lump form in her throat, but no tears came forth. She instead looked towards the three sitting directly across from her.

“The Ivory Hunt will now be enacting the carrying of justice according to the Pact of the Peoples Order.” Willow said, standing up from her chair. “Iris Valdya stands to be accused of Ward Incompetence. For her direct involvement in the death of her fellow hunters.” Willow said, with conviction in her tone.

Lady Willow finally took a look at Iris, her lightly colored pupils took a moment to scan the soft features of the Huntress standing accused. For a moment Willow’s expression softened, she almost saw an image of herself in the young Huntress. She shook the feeling off her consciousness looking to her right at the elderly man sitting down.

“Seer Yanu, if you would.” Willow said, holding her arm up to gesture towards Iris.

The Seer gave a single nod before he stood up from his chair, shakingly.

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“Huntress of the Ivory Hunt, how do you plead?” Yanu asked

All eyes present stared at Iris as the Seer asked for her plea. Renzeel stood nearby, holding her breath. Time seemed to almost slow down for her.

Iris meanwhile, was as pale as a ghost. Her eyes looked at the seer, but it was clear she was staring at nothing. A thousand yard stare. She stood as still as a statue, only for her eyes to gloss over, she wanted to break down. Weep, cry, mourn, she wanted to do all of it right there in front of the crowd. Iris didn’t want to be strong anymore, what was the point? Yet, she held her composure. Lowering her gaze she glanced down to the floor and took a deep breath. “I am guilty.” she said.

The entire room was lit up with muttering voices and discussion. Amongst the noise the Seer cleared his throat, silencing the entire room.

Renzeel balled her hands into fists out of frustration the moment she heard Iris’ plea.

“Very well young Huntress. Your sentencing will be carried out by High’lord Castor of Wighthall. The one true lord of the North,” the seer said, returning to his chair.

Jayles Castor up to this point only watched and listened. The High’lord placed his arms on the rests of his throne glaring his eyes like daggers to the accused huntress standing across from him.

“The Pact of the Peoples Order dictates that a person guilty of Ward Incompetence be put to death. However, my Huntmaster had a few choice words of your talents in marksmanship.” High’lord Castor declared, glancing over to Renzeel who had a curious look to her expression.

“I, High’lord Jayles Castor exempt you from death. You will instead live out the rest of your days at the Citadel, and become a Warden of the Veiled.”

The Highlord’s sentencing, caused shockwaves of disbelief amongst the people present in the court. Mostly Iris who fully expected that she would be put to death. Up until this point Iris tried to hold her strength, unwilling to cry in front of the crowd but the sentencing lifted a large weight off her shoulders.

The huntress cried her eyes out, weeping, but smiling as she did. At no point in her years did she truly cherish life more. Rushing to her side was Renzeel who wrapped her arms around the weeping girl holding her into a hug.

“This is your second chance, please don’t mess this up, Valdya,” whispered Renzeel, tightening her hug around Iris.

Amongst all of the commotion in the room, Seer Yanu stood up from his chair and gestured towards the High’lord

“Erm, High’lord, do you not think it is unwise to let such an incompetent huntress into the ranks of the noble Wardens?” As the seer spoke, the commotion died down almost to complete silence.

Renzeel, who was still hugging the weeping girl, glared at the Seer.

“Are you questioning the decision of your High’lord, Seer? Her Huntmaster told us she was an exceptional marksman. We believe this skill set would be useful to the Wardens and their fight against the Black Bloods. Now silence yourself Seer, before I take the liberty of relieving you of your old age.” High’lady Willow said, gripping the armrests of her throne tightly.

The usually calmed woman had turned an almost reddish hue from her outburst.

The seer was left speechless, only giving a single nod directed towards the High’lady “I- of course High’lady. What was I thinking?” The seer said, turning back to sit in his chair.

The High’lord reaches at his wife’s arm to comfort her, taking a hold of her hand.

“Yanu. My sentencing has already been given. I will not change it.” High’lord Castor said, directing his tone to the Seer. He then turned his attention to look at Iris who had calmed her emotions down a bit. “Iris Valdya, I have already sent for a messenger to be dispatched to the Citadel. Until then, while you stand on Ivory soil you will be treated as a criminal. You will be held at the Wighthall dungeons until the Wardens are ready to take you.” Jayles then raised his right arm and gestured to the guards for her to be taken away.

Renzeel gave her one final tight hug and muttered in her ear. “You will be fine with the Wardens…Alexios is a good man.”

Iris had no more tears to give, her eyes dried out only leaving behind a sort of puffiness at the bag of her eyes. She smiled at Renzeel, giving her a silent ‘thank you’ before the guards took her by her arms leading her out of the cathedral.