The throne room fell into a silence so profound it seemed to swallow even breath itself.
The iron doors groaned open, their ancient hinges screaming a warning that echoed through the vaulted hall. Every torch along the obsidian walls bowed low, flames shrinking as if cowed by the presence that crossed the threshold.
Kairos had entered.
Steel struck marble as guards dropped to one knee in perfect unison. Chiefs lowered their heads, hands pressed to their chests. Even the chains binding the prisoner seemed to still, metal no longer clinking, as though fear itself had frozen them in place.
At the far end of the hall, bound to the stone wall by enchanted chains, Lena lifted her head.
Her wrists were shackled high above her, forcing her onto the balls of her feet. Bruises darkened her skin where iron had bitten too deep. Her cloak was gone—discarded somewhere on the cold floor among torn fabric and scattered belongings. Strands of her hair clung damply to her face, but her eyes, though exhausted, burned with something unbroken.
To her right, suspended midair by sigils of repulsion, hung a silver cage. Inside it, a small fox crouched low, its russet fur bristling, black eyes sharp with fear. The magical barrier hummed faintly, keeping the creature from touching the bars.
The fox did not bow.
But everyone else did.
Kairos walked forward with unhurried steps, his boots never echoing, as though the floor itself swallowed the sound for him. Frost trailed faintly behind him, blooming across the marble in intricate patterns before fading into nothing.
He wore no crown. He never needed one.
His presence was authority incarnate.
He ascended the steps to the throne and turned slowly, surveying the room with glacial eyes. When he finally sat, the throne of carved ice and black stone accepted him as if it had been waiting.
"Begin," Kairos said.
His voice was calm. Too calm.
A guard stepped forward, swallowing hard. "My lord, the prisoner was apprehended beyond the northern ridge. Witnesses report unnatural frost forming where she walked. Crops frozen. Rivers partially sealed in ice despite the season."
Another guard continued, "She resisted arrest. No weapon was found, yet three men suffered frostbite within seconds of approaching her."
Kairos lifted a hand.
An attendant hurried forward, carrying a velvet-lined tray. Upon it lay several shards of ice—unnaturally clear, sharp-edged, glowing faintly with an inner blue light.
Kairos picked one up between thumb and forefinger.
The ice did not melt.
Instead, the air around his hand crackled, frost creeping upward, attempting—futilely—to claim him. A faint smile touched his lips as he watched it struggle.
"Interesting," he murmured.
He crushed the shard.
It shattered into glittering dust that evaporated before touching the floor.
"Continue."
A chief stepped forward, face grim. "The council proposes punishment befitting sorcery without sanction. Public execution, my lord. Or permanent binding—mind and magic sealed."
Another voice added, harsher, "She could be used. Studied. Whatever power she wields—"
Kairos raised his gaze.
The voice died instantly.
From the shadows, an eyewitness was pushed forward—a thin man trembling so violently his teeth clicked. "M-my lord," he stammered, "I saw it. Her mark. When the ice formed—it glowed. Right here."
He pointed vaguely to his own collarbone.
Murmurs rippled through the hall.
Kairos's eyes sharpened.
"A mark?" he asked softly.
"Yes, my lord. A sigil. Old. Forbidden."
Kairos rose.
The movement alone sent a wave of cold through the chamber. He descended the steps and walked toward Lena, stopping a few paces away.
"Release her," he ordered.
The guards hesitated only a fraction of a second before obeying. The chains recoiled, magic dissolving, iron clattering to the floor. Lena collapsed forward but caught herself, breathing hard, arms shaking as blood rushed back into them.
Kairos approached.
He stopped directly in front of her.
Up close, he studied her face—not with anger, but with something colder. Calculation. Expectation.
"Look at me," he said.
She did.
Her gaze met his without defiance, but without submission either.
Kairos reached out.
With one swift motion, he seized the fabric of her blouse and tore it downward to her collarbone. The sound of ripping cloth echoed sharply in the hall.
Gasps erupted.
Kairos froze.
There was no mark.
No glowing sigil. No rune. No scar.
Only bruised skin and the steady rise and fall of her breath.
His fingers tightened slightly, disbelief flickering across his expression before vanishing behind ice.
He turned his head slowly. "You," he said to the eyewitness. "You were certain."
The man dropped to his knees. "I—I swear, my lord. I saw it. It was there."
Kairos looked back at Lena.
Still nothing.
He stepped away.
"Bring the seer."
Moments later, an elderly woman cloaked in layers of woven charms was led forward. Her eyes were clouded white, yet when she turned her head, it was as though she could see everything.
She raised her hands toward Lena.
Magic stirred—soft, probing, ancient.
The seer frowned.
She circled Lena once, then again, brow furrowing deeper each time.
"There is no magic," the seer said at last.
The room erupted.
Kairos lifted a finger, and silence returned instantly.
"You are certain," he said.
The seer bowed. "I have scanned her spirit, her blood, her shadow. She is… human. Entirely. No blessing. No curse."
Kairos's gaze darkened.
"And the fox."
The silver cage was lowered. The seer approached it carefully, hands hovering.
She paused.
Then blinked.
Again.
She leaned closer, almost incredulous.
"This creature," she said slowly, "is nothing more than a young fox. No enchantment. No familiar bond. No hidden spirit."
The fox bared its tiny teeth, growling softly.
Kairos stared at it for a long moment.
Then at Lena.
A human. A normal animal.
Yet ice that defied him. Fear that bent fire. Witnesses sworn. Evidence frozen into shards.
Impossible.
Kairos turned away, returning to his throne.
"Remove the witnesses," he ordered. "All of them."
The guards moved instantly.
Kairos leaned back, steepling his fingers.
"Chain her again," a chief suggested nervously.
Kairos's eyes flicked toward him.
"No."
The word cut like a blade.
He stood once more.
"This case is not concluded," Kairos said. "It is only beginning."
He descended the steps again, stopping before Lena.
Then, to Lena, softly enough that only she could hear:
"Something answered you in the ice."
His eyes met hers, sharp and searching.
"And I intend to find out what."
---