The Flame Tribunal convened before sunrise.

  No braziers this time.

  No ceremonial robes.

  Just documents and old men looking at them.

  High Adjudicator Selvek stood at the head of the table.

  “The Magister has publicly defied Doctrine,” he said.

  “Technically,” a member corrected, “he exploited ambiguity.”

  Selvek’s gaze sharpened.

  “The Faith Minstrel Laws are not ambiguous.”

  “They are untested against ruin-awakened blood. They are not specific enough against the unclassified.”

  That word lingered.

  Ruins, the

  A third member leaned forward.

  “If we press this, we risk open fracture with the Magisterium.”

  Selvek folded his hands.

  “And if we do nothing?”

  Silence.

  “The Academy has become sovereign.”

  That was the true fear.

  Not Arata.

  Not madness.

  Precedent.

  If one cadet could walk past Doctrine with Magister backing, what prevented the others?

  “What do you propose?” the thin-voiced adjudicator asked.

  Selvek answered without hesitation.

  “Limit Kohler.”

  “How?”

  “Budgetary review. Research audits. Reallocation of military oversight.”

  “And the Crown?”

  Selvek’s lips thinned.

  “The Crown values stability. The emperor will be swayed to take our side.”

  There was a pause.

  “We will frame this as containment of instability.”

  Not rebellion but instability.

  Words mattered.

  ...

  In a quieter chamber within the palace, Emperor Alaric Valen read three separate reports.

  Tribunal Complaint.

  Magisterium Defense.

  Military Assessment.

  He set them down slowly.

  Across from him stood Prince Cyran.

  “They’re posturing,” Cyran said.

  “They’re consolidating,” the Emperor corrected.

  “And the boy?”

  The Emperor’s fingers tapped the table once.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “He is not the issue.”

  Cyran frowned.

  “He stood against the Tribunal publicly.”

  “Yes.”

  “And that doesn’t concern you?”

  Alaric’s gaze lifted.

  “What concerns me is that the Veins did not resist him. If the tribunal speaks the will of the Flame and the Veins, why did the vein's simply remain dormant.”

  Cyran stiffened.

  The Emperor continued.

  “If Kohler produces another Darwin, I gain leverage.”

  “And if he produces something worse?”

  The Emperor’s voice lowered.

  “Then I will deal with it.”

  He leaned back.

  “For now, we allow tension.”

  Cyran understood.

  Let Tribunal and Magisterium weaken each other.

  The Crown would intervene only to take control of the Wyrmbounds.

  ...

  Kohler did not attend the first Tribunal inquiry.

  He sent documentation instead.

  Monica stood in his study as the notice burned in the fireplace.

  “They’ll escalate procedurally,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “Funding reviews.”

  “Yes.”

  “Personnel oversight.”

  “Yes.”

  She studied him.

  “You expected this.”

  “I am the one who invited it.”

  Monica’s eyebrow rose slightly.

  “Explain.”

  Kohler walked to the window.

  “For years the Tribunal has operated as if Doctrine equals authority, like it's the word of god.”

  “And now?”

  “Now they have publicly attempted to restrain one of my cadets. i am done bending over for them.”

  He turned back.

  “They forced a confrontation in front of witnesses.”

  Monica understood immediately.

  “They overreached.”

  Kohler nodded.

  “And the Crown?”

  “They will have to wait. They can't afford to get on the bad side of either institution.”

  Monica folded her arms.

  “And Arata?”

  Kohler’s gaze shifted southward.

  “He is now politically untouchable unless he fails.”

  A pause.

  “Which means?”

  “If he stabilises, I gain autonomy.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  Kohler did not answer.

  ...

  Renard listened to the political updates with detached interest.

  “The Tribunal seeks to curtail Magisterium influence.” Merris was standing beside him.

  “Of course they do.” Renard replied, looking out the window.

  “The Crown still remains neutral.”

  “For now. I will make sure that father is not able to sand with neutrality in this war of giants.”

  “And the Army—”

  Renard waved a hand.

  “They always think in terms of ownership. Until they think that they still control the academy and it's assets, they won't make a move.”

  He turned from the report.

  “Chaos among institutions will ultimately benefit us.”

  The minister hesitated.

  “And Arata?”

  Renard smiled faintly.

  “He has already done what I needed him to do.”

  “Which is?”

  “He revealed fault lines.”

  He poured himself wine.

  “Power is not about strength.”

  He took a slow sip.

  “It is about leverage. When the ashes form the tussle between magesterium and Tribunal settles down, I will be the one standing strongest on the battleground.”

  ...

  The report arrived two hours after the previous session adjourned.

  It was delivered quietly.

  It was not marked urgent.

  It did not need to be.

  Selvek read it once.

  Then again.

  He did not look up when he spoke.

  “Repeat that.”

  The thin-voiced adjudicator obliged.

  “Prince Renard Valen formally proposed marriage to Lyra Vale three months ago. The proposal was declined.”

  Silence.

  Another line followed.

  “Lyra Vale departed the Academy alongside Arata Veyrn this morning.”

  Now Selvek looked up.

  The chamber felt colder.

  “The Vale family,” he said slowly.

  “Old money. Old influence,” another member added. “Industrial backing. Vein-mapping contracts. Archive rights.”

  “And Lyra herself,” Selvek said. “Senior resonance theorist in training. Direct access to Wyrmbound development data.”

  A pause.

  “She declined the proposal.”

  “Yes.”

  “And now travels with an unclassified Wyrmbound during a political fracture between Magisterium and Doctrine.”

  The implications settled.

  The third adjudicator spoke carefully.

  “Renard may have intended to secure Vale loyalty through marriage.”

  “And access to the Wyrmbound research through her.”

  Selvek nodded faintly.

  “And she refused.”

  Another silence.

  “Do we believe this departure is coincidence?”

  “No,” Selvek said calmly.

  “We believe Renard is now losing leverage.”

  The thin-voiced member leaned forward.

  “If the Prince feels slighted — both publicly and politically — he may escalate.”

  Selvek’s eyes narrowed.

  “He cannot openly challenge the Tribunal.”

  “No,” the member replied. “But he can undermine the Magisterium.”

  That landed.

  If Renard: Failed to secure Vale through marriage, Lost face in court, Watched Lyra leave with the Academy’s most unstable cadet, And saw the Tribunal attempt containment —

  He might interpret this as alignment against him.

  And Renard did not tolerate humiliation well.

  Selvek folded his hands.

  “We must assume Renard will act.”

  “How?”

  “Indirectly.”

  A pause.

  “Funding pressure. Administrative scrutiny. Or worse.”

  “Worse?” the third member asked.

  Selvek did not blink.

  “An incident.”

  The word lingered.

  Political accidents happened.

  Travel routes were long.

  Southern laboratories were remote.

  He spoke again.

  “Send observers.”

  “To Renard?”

  “To the Vale estate.”

  “And the laboratory?”

  Selvek’s voice cooled.

  “If Arata fails, it weakens Kohler.”

  “If he succeeds?”

  “Then Renard may attempt reclamation.”

  Silence.

  The Tribunal was beginning to see the shape of the board.

  Arata was a piece.

  Lyra was a bridge.

  Renard was a rival.

  And Kohler had just forced open the gates.

  Selvek leaned back.

  “We do not move first.”

  The others waited.

  “We allow Renard to show his hand.”

  The brazier flame flickered.

  “And when he does,” Selvek said quietly, “we decide whether he is an ally or a problem.”