SAGE
The hall was filled to the brim.
Bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, breath to breath, the air thick with anticipation and the restless heat of a crowd already half-whipped into frenzy.
The great hall of Zophar had always been impressive, but today it felt… swollen. Overburdened. Like the very walls were straining under the weight of what was about to unfold.
High arched ceilings stretched overhead, etched with ancient runes that pulsed faintly in the torchlight. Long banners hung between the stone pillars—deep crimson, forest green, midnight blue—each bearing the sigils of the surrounding communities.
And at the far end was the platform. It was raised high and so looked commanding. The queen stood there mid-speech. Her jaw slackened as she took note of my presence.
For half a heartbeat, the entire hall froze in a suspended moment of disbelief. For diverse reasons, especially different from the Queen.
