Ban remained in Dravenloch city for one reason that could not be argued away with pride or politics.
It was solely because another wormhole could open.
Even though the crack had sealed, the air around it still felt wrong—like a wound that had stopped bleeding but had not healed. The stone carried a dark stain where space had torn open, and the ward-lines around the inner ring were still trembling, as if they were trying to remember how to stand.
Ban studied it from the edge of the ruined circle, his hands was behind his back, and his expression calm....a befitting posture from someone from his status.
To the Maverick wardens nearby, his calm expression looked like arrogance.
But to Ban, it was discipline.
"Keep watch rotations tight," he told one of his Wyrmscourge experts. "If the air shifts, or the wards whine, or even if the ground warms, you signal immediately. No delay."
"Yes, Young Master," the expert replied.
Mabel stood a few paces away, still holding the two vials he had given her. She had not used them yet. Ban noticed, of course. But he did not comment. If she feared the gift, that fear would work in his favor later.
"Dravenloch isn't safe yet," Mabel said, voice tired but firm.
Ban's gaze stayed on the blackened mark in the stone. "A sealed crack is still a weak point. It can reopen."
Mabel frowned slightly. "You plan to stay?"
"I have to," Ban answered simply, as if it were obvious. "If another wormhole opens while I'm here, I can say we responded quickly. It benefits everyone."
Mabel did not miss the last part.
Benefits everyone was Ban's way of saying benefits me, too.
Still, she nodded once. There was no use arguing over something that was true. Dravenloch needed more eyes, more hands, and more strength—no matter who it came from.
After the inspection of the closed crack, Mabel led Ban away from the ruined plaza and toward the Maverick base.
It stood in the inner ring, built like a fortress within a fortress. High walls of gray stone wrapped around a wide compound. The gates were reinforced with iron and ward-sigils, tho there was no guards at the gate.
The base had been damaged, but not broken. Repairs were already underway. The workers had already replaced the cracked stones, while the healers moved between rooms.... assisting the injured. Messengers ran with rolled papers in their hands, calling out names and locations....of people needing immediate care.
Inside the main hall, the air smelled of strong herbs and old wood.
Mabel walked ahead without slowing. "You'll pay your respects, then we return to patrol routes. No long speeches."
Ban's smile was small. "I don't do long speeches."
They entered a council chamber that looked older than most buildings in Vain City. The pillars were thick. The floor was polished stone. Banners hung from the walls.
At the head of the room sat Lord Alaric Maverick.
Mabel's father.
His hair was streaked with gray, and his shoulders were broad even while seated. An old scar crossed one eyebrow, giving him a permanent look of harsh focus. He looked like a man who had led a city through too many storms to be impressed by any visitor.
And beside him sat Lord Fen his brother, and around them were the remaining council members who had stayed behind during the attack.
When Ban stepped in, the room quieted.
The Skull name did that.
Ban bowed, respectful and smooth. "Lord Alaric. I'm honored to stand in your hall."
Lord Alaric's eyes stayed on Ban for a long moment before he answered. "Young Master Ban. Your father sent you."
"He did," Ban replied. "And I came with twenty Wyrmscourge experts."
A council member on the left—older, with a sharp nose and anger that had nowhere to go—leaned forward.
"Experts?" the council member snapped. "They arrived after our streets were already ruined."
Mabel's jaw tightened. But Ban's expression did not change.
The council member stood, his voice rising with him. "Where was the Skull Family when the wormhole opened inside our inner ring? Where was your 'aid' when our wardens died holding the line?"
Ban turned slightly, meeting the council member's eyes without flinching. "We came as soon as we received word."
"Oh, spare us," the council member hissed. "Your family knew Dravenloch was unstable. Everyone knows. And you still took your time."
The room grew tense. Some council members looked away, as if they feared what might happen if this argument went too far.
Ban remained calm, but the air around him sharpened. Not with rage—Ban rarely showed rage—but with a cold warning.
Before Ban could speak, Lord Fen leaned forward and raised a hand gently, like a person calming a room full of flames.
"Enough," Lord Fen said.
The council member looked at him, still angry. "Lord Fen—"
Lord Fen's voice stayed smooth. "We are not here to start a blood feud in the middle of recovery. Young Master Ban and his people are in our city now. That matters."
Then, to Ban, Lord Fen offered an excuse that was polite enough to be believable.
"The messenger route was damaged," Lord Fen said. "Our first runners did not reach your borders. We had to send a second. Dravenloch is not the only place affected by these wormhole disturbances."
It was not a perfect lie.
But it was a useful one.
Ban nodded slowly, as if accepting the explanation, though deep down he already knew what had truly happened. Delayed aid was not an accident. It was strategy. His father did not hide such things from him.
Lord Alaric watched Ban closely. "Your presence is appreciated," he said at last. "But don't mistake appreciation for trust."
Ban bowed again. "I wouldn't insult you by expecting trust."
Mabel stood quietly near her father's seat, arms crossed now, her posture rigid. She said nothing, but her face showed she agreed with every harsh word spoken.
Ban's gaze flicked to her briefly.
She looked like someone balancing anger and duty on the same blade.
After the brief exchange, Ban spoke again, calm and formal.
"My people will remain for a while," he said. "Until we are sure another wormhole will not open. We will patrol. We will assist your healers and wardens where needed. And I would like access to the wormhole site for continued inspection."
Lord Alaric's eyes narrowed slightly. "You will get supervised access."
Ban nodded. "That is reasonable."