Valerius had not truly understood the depth of his failures until he arrived at the edge of the Ashlands with the remainder of his army.
And there, they were not greeted as heroes, but as traitors.
A force of Ignarion cavalry surrounded the broken host almost immediately upon their return. And there, they rendered the Lord’s judgment.
"Valerius Ignarion, the Ember Court and the Lord of Flames have deemed your actions during the Siege of Dawnhaven treacherous. You are hereby stripped of your name, your title, and your position. Any possessions you once owned are now forfeit to your Lord Father, who requests your immediate surrender to judgment."
Valerius’s jaw nearly dropped upon hearing this.
He had known the task his father gave him, the Siege of Dawnhaven, was a punishment. A chance to serve penance and regain favor with the Ember Court. But it had ended in disaster, and now, in humiliation. There was no choice but to pin the blame on him and hold him solely accountable for the defeat.
And when he understood this, truly understood, only hatred remained in his veins.
His body trembled. His teeth clenched and cracked. His eyes flared with blinding fire. The rage and madness he had long buried erupted in a full-blown meltdown.
His flesh gave way to flame.
The Crucible’s fury exploded outward, devouring the shattered remnants of his army and the riders sent to arrest him.
His wrath manifested as a roaring firestorm, crackling across the Ashlands and the skies above.
"You think you can strip me? I am flame reborn! I am the Crucible’s heir! You will all burn for this!"
The cavalry’s steeds reared and bolted, sparing their riders.
But Valerius’s soldiers, those who had followed him into battle and survived his disastrous command, were not so lucky.
They ran on foot, desperately trying to outrun the flames spreading across the land and sky.
Those caught turned to dust before they could even scream. Burned so quickly that agony never found their throats.
Some of the surviving Magi tried casting spells to deflect or suppress the fire, commanding it to turn away, but Valerius consumed them too.
The fire would burn and spread until something, or someone, put an end to it.
Within the depths of Submareth, Thalassaria found herself in an equally precarious situation.
Many of the suitors she had spurned over millennia now gathered to vent their grievances.
It had once been tolerable when no man had captured her heart.
Even the proudest among them could understand being found wanting.
But now? Now, it was not a Naga who had won her favor. Neither a Sea Elf nor any other noble creature of the deep.
It was a land-dweller. A human.
The ancient enemy of the Naga, sworn foes under blood, death, and the pain of ancestral betrayal.
For eons, they had fought a silent war beneath the waves against humans who dared trespass into their sacred dominion.
That war had been their only bitter satisfaction.
And now, their queen had fallen madly in love with one of them.
It was not only unthinkable. It was vile.
Their rage could not be quelled. The noble scions who had once dreamed of her hand now gathered in fury.
"She debases herself! For millennia, she denied us, toyed with our hearts, and now she lusts after a human? The Abyssal should drown her in the deepest trench and claim her soul for damnation!"
A sentiment echoed by more than a few present.
Some, however, called for caution.
"Perhaps a spell was cast upon her. Maybe the humans ensnared her mind. If she acts not of her own will, this talk of betrayal is treasonous."
Heads nodded, some still love-struck by the Sea Queen’s eternal beauty, others wary of her vindictive, iron-fanged nature.
To rule the sea, the most turbulent domain in all the world, required immense power. To do so without exile or challenge since the primordial era...
Some whispered she was not merely Thalassaria, but the Abyssal herself, veiled in mortal guise.
Others believed her the firstborn of their kind. Records from the era before the Exodus were all but lost, their truths swallowed by time.
Because of these whispers, even the most indignant dared not speak openly of rebellion.
Still, as hatred simmered in their hearts, they sought a consensus.
"Indeed," one noble hissed, "we should investigate the cause of these transgressions before choosing a desperate course... But if our worst fears prove truem if she has truly fallen for this human, then we must not hesitate."
No further words were spoken.
Rebellion was brewing in Submareth, and its queen remained enthralled with Caedrion’s fate, oblivious to the gathering storm within her own court.