The Warden’s Judgment

The room was too quiet.

Stone walls. No windows. Just a single strip of enchanted light pulsing along the ceiling, casting everything in a sterile glow, the kind that made shadows too long.
Kade sat on the chair they’d given him, wood, worn down at the edges, and swung his legs a little.
His feet didn’t quite reach the floor.
He was taller in this world, but the chair was too high.
That was fine. He was still getting used to how easy it was to move his legs.
The cuff still hummed faintly around his wrist, heavy and strange. It was dark metal, inlaid with an engraved glyph, and though it didn’t hurt, he could feel how it pressed the warmth of his magic down, like a hand on his chest, keeping it caged and buried.
He didn’t fidget. He just waited. The guards hadn't said much. They eyed him warily. He hoped they’d have answers. They didn’t.

The door opened at last.
The man who stepped in was the same man who cuffed him and used magic before. Crimson coat and long black hair that framed a pale face. He wasn’t especially tall or big, but he filled the room anyway.
Kade felt a sudden shift in pressure, like something slithering under calm water.
This must be because of magic. He thought wide eyed.
The man studied him with severe, dark eyes.

“Kade, is it?” the man said, voice smooth. “That’s the name you gave?”

Kade nodded. “That’s my name.”

The man smiled thinly. “You don’t know your bloodline. You’ve utilised magic against city officials. You have no documentation, no entry pass. And yet,” he leaned forward, hands folded neatly, “you are smiling.”

Kade blinked. “Shouldn’t I be?”

That made the man pause. Just for a moment.
Kade’s smile widened, sheepish.

“I mean… I didn’t hurt anyone. I think. That magic thing I did? It was an accident. But it was also amazing. You ever feel something inside you and it’s just… alive? Like a spark that’s always been waiting for a chance?”

The man didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry about the stall,” Kade added quickly. “Renn was really nice. Do you think someone could tell him I said thank you?”

The man’s smile returned, thin, brittle. “You truly think this act is going to fool anyone?”

“Act?” Kade tilted his head, still grinning. “You talk like someone who wants to be the villain but is actually too polite.”

The man exhaled through his nose. Narrowed his eyes. Then stepped forward, closing the space between them with a measured calm.

“My name is Velis Toliar. I am a Warden of the Red Tower. I serve the Lunar Triad as witness and judgment.”

He gestured subtly; the door behind Kade sealed with a hiss, a red sigil flaring for a heartbeat before fading.
“Do you know what that means?”

Kade hesitated. “Like… law enforcement?”

Velis allowed himself a small chuckle. “A generous comparison. I am an Inquisitor. My duty is to uphold the law where magic is concerned, through any means required.”

His eyes locked onto Kade. “Your magic. Where did you get it?”

Kade opened his mouth, then frowned. “I… just found it.”

“That is never an answer I accept,” Velis said, voice quiet but edged. “Magic has roots. It comes from here. From Lunavin. And there are those who would take it. Traffickers who steal our Marked children and sell them beyond our borders. Perhaps you have heard of this?”

Kade shook his head, unsettled by the words and the weight in the man’s tone.

Velis’s gaze stayed sharp. “Either you, or one of your parents, is one of those children taken from Lunavin. Maybe you know it. Maybe you don’t. But I can tell you this…” He leaned slightly forward, power radiating from his presence as if the air itself was reacting to him. “A boy of three was taken just last month. His mother still stands at the gates every day, waiting. The city remembers its missing.”

Kade’s smile faltered. “That’s… awful.” And it wasn’t just politeness. His voice carried the shock of someone who truly believed it. “I’ve never taken anyone. I’ve got nothing to do with that.”

*****

Velis studied the boy for a long, silent breath. Then, without moving a muscle, he willed his magic, the ever burning force inside his veins to answer.

The air between them shimmered faintly red, a swirling pulse forming from nothing.

“You would swear to that?”

Kade nodded. “Of course. I swear I haven’t done anything wrong.”

The red glow thickened, becoming a slow, rhythmic beat in the air between them. The swirls shaped into a spiderweb that connected them together. The magic of oathbinding, alive, listening.

Velis didn’t speak at once. His eyes stayed fixed on Kade’s open expression. He could feel the magic tightening, reaching for the words it had been given, ready to set the bond at his command. Too vague, too broad, if it took hold, it would shackle the boy in ways Velis didn’t intend.

After a moment, Velis exhaled and let the heat drain away. The red light flickered once, then broke apart in fading sparks.

“No,” he said. “Not like that. You’ll swear to an oath of my wording, not your own. We will be precise.”

Kade, still blinking at the vanishing sparks, tilted his head. “You can magic my swearing? You can do that?”

Velis’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “You’ll find the Red Tower leaves very little to chance.”

Kade’s eyes were still wide from the fading sparks. “That was incredible,” he said, leaning forward as if trying to catch the lingering heat in the air. “You mean… magic can tell if you’re lying? Like, it actually knows?”

Velis’s brow lifted slightly. “It can confirm the truth of an oath, yes. Words matter. Intent matters more. And if you break it…” His voice trailed off deliberately, letting the unspoken threat hang.

“That's impressive!” Kade said without hesitation, the kind of genuine excitement Velis was used to seeing in commoners' children, not suspects under interrogation. “Can we do it now? I want to see it work!”

Velis tilted his head, studying the boy in silence. The eagerness wasn’t an act, the wide grin, the way his eyes followed every flicker of red light. No fear. Just… curiosity.

“An oath is not a toy,” Velis said at last. “Every word becomes binding. If you swear something without precision, the magic will not forgive you. And I will not let you speak an oath that is unfit for this interrogation.”

Kade’s grin returned, warmer this time. “Okay, then I’ll wait for your version. And,” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone, as if sharing a great secret. “I’m sorry I called you a villain earlier.”

Velis gave him a blank look.

“Because,” Kade went on, “you’re actually kind.”

Velis regarded him for a long moment, then let his eyes drift, pointedly, down to the cuffs around Kade’s wrists before meeting his gaze again. The look said more than words: You call this kind?

Kade only grinned wider, as if the reminder somehow proved his point.

****

Velis’s expression changed, the air seemed to still.

And then, without warning, the sigil on the door flared bright red.
Velis turned instantly, stance snapping into readiness, one hand lifting as the temperature in the room began to climb. His gaze locked on the breach, every inch of him a Warden of the Red Tower.
A second later, the air shifted with a sound like silk being torn. A pulse of pressure rippled through the chamber. The sigils on the door flickered and curled away like ash in the wind.

The door opened.
A figure stepped through the distortion.

Her cloak was deep green, the edges threaded with gold that caught the chamber’s light. Her hair, bright red and rich as fire, was swept back over her shoulders. Her eyes, a pale, striking grey, landed on Velis first. Then on Kade.
Her presence changed the room.
It wasn’t a raw magical display the way Velis’s power was. It was subtler, heavier, like the air itself adjusted to make room for her.

****

She sighed lightly.
“Oh, by the grace of the Mother,” she said, voice airy and dry, “what have you done now, boy?”

Kade blinked at her. The sorcerer from the market. “Uh…hi,” he said quickly, raising his cuffed hands in an awkward half-wave. “Not much? Just… sitting here being interrogated. You know. Normal stuff.”

Velis gave him a sharp look, but she almost seemed amused before her attention shifted to Velis.

Velis greeted stiffly. “Marked Akalis.”

She ignored the greeting, eyes sweeping over the cuffs and the faint residue of oath magic still clinging in the air like smoke.
Her expression darkened.

“I leave for one morning,” she said, voice like steel wrapped in silk, “and my late husband’s son is already on trial?”

Kade froze mid-blink. “Wait…what?”

“Inquisitor, can’t you see the striking resemblance?” she said, her tone light with a delicate annoyance. “Unmistakable, really. That’s Elsen’s son.”

Velis’s mouth tightened. “Marked Akalis, this boy has no legislation papers. Can not trace his bloodline. His clothing is common at best…”

“Of course it is,” Akalis interrupted breezily. “He’s an orphan from the outer villages.”

That silenced the room.
Kade tilted his head, wondering if she was talking about him or someone else.

She moved forward, each step deliberate elegance. “My late husband had… indiscretions. One of them produced this boy. I’ve only recently confirmed it.”

Velis’s eyes shifted back to Kade, taking in his too-thin tunic, the bright, open expression, the way he sat relaxed despite looking utterly out of place.

“Born to a village woman,” Akalis went on, her tone clipped now. “Raised far from Lunavin, as you might imagine. No formal education. No papers because his heritage was unknown to us… until recently.”

Velis’s voice dropped. “And only now, conveniently, you claim him.”

Akalis’s eyes narrowed. “The Mother Moon’s light shines through him. He is blessed with her blood.”

She turned her gaze on Kade, then back to Velis. “Unrefined, yes, but his power is undeniable. And ours.”

Kade stared at her, uncertain if he was being rescued, recruited, or adopted against his will. “That’s… really nice of you. Also kind of… weird. But thanks?”

Akalis inclined her head with perfect poise. “No need to thank me, dear. Blood is blood.”

Velis exhaled sharply. “This is highly irregular.”

“Of course it is,” Akalis replied, not missing a beat. “Do you think I enjoy this? Claiming a bastard boy in front of the Lunar Triad? Don’t mistake necessity for pleasure.”

Kade’s brows lifted. That seemed a bit harsh. Still, her words didn’t sting the way they might have anyone else. He wasn’t used to people choosing him at all. Even if she said it like it was a burden, she still chose him.

Velis paced the room.
“I seek the truth.”

“And the truth,” Akalis said smoothly, “is that he is mine to claim. You can have your truth vetted by the Registry, as is protocol. But unless you’re accusing Badania of treason…” she smiled, too pleasantly “…I’d suggest you unshackle him.”

Velis hesitated.
Kade watched him, then lifted his cuffed hands again, friendly and expectant.

“I really wouldn’t mind, you know. If you’re still not sure. I get it. I’m new here. But I promise I won't cause trouble.”

The innocence on his face was a perfect act. Almost real. That’s what made it hard to believe.
Velis stepped forward, tapping the cuff with one hand. The magic shimmered, then collapsed with a sigh, uncoiling. The metal band fell away.
The fire inside him stirred again, dim and aching.

Kade rubbed his wrist. It had left no mark. Still, it felt sore somehow.

“I’ll expect a bloodline registration within the week,” Velis said curtly.

“Of course,” Akalis replied.

He looked at Kade one last time. “If he so much as glows in public before then…”

“You’ll file it with my name,” she cut in, already turning. “Come now, boy.”

Kade stood, hesitant. “Should I… bow? Or say something?”

Akalis blinked. “You’re not a servant.”

Then, just faintly, her lips curled.

“You are Marked. Walk like it.”

She swept from the room without waiting. Her cloak-like coat billowed behind her, embroidered moons catching the light.
Kade scrambled to follow.

Velis didn’t stop him. But as the door slid open, he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Kade to hear:
“Don’t think I haven't noticed how she didn't use your name once.”

Kade paused.
That was true.
But he smiled anyway.

“Maybe she just doesn't like my name.”

And with that, he stepped into the hall, chasing the woman who had claimed him, unaware he had just walked into the game of the Marked.