raised his arms and squeezed his eyes shut to shield against the light. A moment later the light faded and Urus opened his eyes to find himself back in the council chambers, back on trial in that beautiful, terrible place. Even though he no was no longer reliving the memories, the pain of them remained, both physical and emotional.
"The boy used an avatar knight, a summoning of pure sigilcraft, to kill his own father," said one councilor. "It wasn't even sigil-bound!"
"He almost agreed to join forces with the Order in exchange for the gift of hearing," said another. "Can you imagine? The power of a sigilord at the behest of the likes of Draegon?"
"That's not how it happened," Urus pleaded. "I wasn't ever going to—"
"Silence," Vogon shouted, thrusting his palm forward.
"He used a destruction sigil, with no thought to its effect on the fabric," another councilor added. "Such a thing is an abomination, an affront to everything for which we stand."
"You are all overlooking another vitally important fact," another councillor added before returning to his seat. "His sigils are blue."
"The fact remains that his actions broke the vertex ward, and thus violated the Continuum Protection Act. The law is clear on this," said one of the council members.
"He was attempting to preserve the seal. He also defeated the most infamous of blood mage sects," argued another.
"I think we all know he is guilty. The only question that remains is that of his sentence."
"Indeed," said Vogon. "Guilt is not open for discussion, only judgment." He turned to the prisoner. "Urus, the council must deliberate on your sentence. This is a serious matter and deserves our full attention, without distraction."
Vogon led a procession out of the room through a door behind the council chairs. A moment later Urus stood alone, save for the four guards standing watch in the chamber.
Absently playing with the chain that bound him to the post, he studied his hands, remembering what it felt like to have the surging blue power of the sigilords running through his fingertips. Due to the iron collar he wore, he could no longer use the power, but he couldn't help but admit that he missed the feeling, the rush of heat and raw power.
As he awaited judgment of his fate by strange people in a strange world, he longed for the desert. He longed for the dry air, the warm winds of the desert night, and he missed the palace, especially its kitchens and the ever-present smell of devil's cinnamon.
Finally, as Urus was stretching his leg to keep it from cramping, the council returned to the chamber, somber looks on their faces.
This is it, he thought. This is when I find out what they're going to do to me . There was so much left to see, to learn and explore—so many things Urus dreamed of doing without a sword or knife or battle that he would never get to do from inside a cell.
"Urus Noellor," Vogon said.
Urus took a step forward.
"The Council of Balance has made a decision in your case. Know that all that this council does, we do to preserve the balance. If any of the universes are allowed to shift too far toward any extreme, be it chaos or order, good or evil, the balance must be restored. It is the mandate of this council to observe and to restore the balance should it be lost."
Vogon took a deep breath and interlaced his fingers, rubbing his thumbs together. "The council has decided that, despite your lack of intent and knowledge of our laws governing sigilcraft, you are subject to the edicts pertaining to the subjugation and removal of the species—"
Urus stopped him, taking another step forward. "You have laws for subjugating and removing sigilords? What does that even mean?"
"Silence!" Vogon shouted, slamming his fists on the throne hard enough that the anger reverberated through Urus's boots. "As I was saying, this council has found you guilty of fomenting chaos, of altering the true and natural balance of the multiverse, and of violating the
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