Chapter 80: Trial Of Loyalty
Aveloria spoke again, breaking the heavy silence.
"If I stand here and accuse them, then I must allow truth to speak for me. Let them take the rite. If I am wrong, I will stand before all of you and renounce my claim. I will step down from my position as future Queen."
A few gasps echoed around the hall. Even the high priestess shifted uncomfortably.
Aveloria continued. "But if I am right, then justice will be carried out as required by our law."
No one dared respond. The tension in the hall had become a weight pressing on everyone’s chest.
Alaric walked toward Aveloria slowly. His steps were unsteady, like someone moving through thick mud. "Aveloria," he said, his voice softer than before. "This... this is too much. Think carefully. The Trial of Loyalty is not something that can be undone."
She looked him straight in the eyes. "I know. But the truth must come out today. No more lies. No more secrets."
Alaric looked at Eirene. His expression was full of confusion and pain. He had shared his life with her for years. He trusted her. He believed in her. And now he was being asked to question everything.
When his gaze met Eirene’s, she immediately looked away. The avoidance hit him harder than a physical blow.
The high priestess slowly approached the center of the hall again. "The Trial of Loyalty has not been invoked in years. Aveloria, you understand that calling for it carries a cost."
"It doesn’t matter. Truth is worth the cost." She answered.
The high priestess looked at Marek, then Rowena, then Eirene.
"Do the accused accept the trial?"
Rowena shook her head quickly, panic breaking through her expression. Eirene placed her hands on her thighs, releasing her from the spells. She had to do something, even if it was only to save her daughter. If they take the trial, they would find the truth and be convicted. Eirene didn’t want her daughter to pay for the crimes she had committed.
"I didn’t do anything wrong!" Rowena screamed, springing up to her feet. "Marek loves me! Is that a crime?"
Gasps erupted in the hall.
"No, that’s not true." He tried to touch Aveloria again.
She snapped her head toward him. "Don’t touch me."
Immediately, Theron approached him, holding him back from reaching her. Marek tried to fight him, but Lucien and Galen separated them.
Eirene still said nothing. Her silence was unnerving to everyone watching.
The high priestess waited. "The trial requires acceptance from those accused. Without it, the rite cannot—"
"This is madness! My mother has served Lycanthria for years. She loved your mother like her own sister. She took care of you and your sibling. And now you accuse her of murder, betrayal, and witchcraft?"
Aveloria stared at her without blinking. "If you think I am accusing your mother falsely, take the trial of loyalty."
Rowena shook harder. Her voice cracked. "I won’t do it. We didn’t do anything wrong."
Aveloria spoke again, her voice cutting through the tension. "This hall will not move forward until the truth is addressed. Today marks the end of the lies hiding in Lycanthria. Whether through confession or the trial, everything will be revealed."
Aveloria turned, facing the crowd again.
"Lycanthria deserves honesty. Our people deserve safety. I will not allow those who harmed this kingdom, or my family, to walk freely any longer."
No one dared look away from her. She wasn’t shouting. She wasn’t emotional. She spoke with simple determination.
Eirene slowly stood up from her chair, her hands shaking. She had been quiet the entire time cause words failed her. She’s had so much to deal with in one day already. With or without taking the trial, she had already lost everything. She has lost her home, her position, her name, her freedom, and the respect of everyone she once considered friends. Losing her daughter in all of this was the final blow. The moment she discovered her daughter, whom she had been shielding for years, was a vessel, something inside her cracked in a way she could not repair. It had been the last piece she was holding on to, and now it was gone.
She looked older than she had the day before. Her eyes were swollen, her skin was pale, and the tremble in her hands had turned into a slight twitch she couldn’t control. When she finally stood to speak, her voice broke on the first word. She forced herself to continue, driven only by the fear of what would happen to her child if she kept silent.
"I will speak. I will say everything," she said
Murmurs spread through the hall. Some of the elders believed she was responsible for the growing presence of the Wanderers. Some thought she was intentionally helping them. Some believed Aveloria was confused. But all agreed that the truth had to come out.
Aveloria stared at her without blinking. She looked alert. Her shoulders were stiff, and her jaw tightened the moment Eirene opened her mouth. There was something in Eirene’s expression that disturbed Aveloria. It was contained, steady, and made it clear Aveloroa should expect something more than she planned for this day. Maybe a lie. Maybe compulsion. Maybe a refusal. Perhaps a final attempt from Eirene to protect herself. And the moment Eirene hesitated, even for a heartbeat, Aveloria’s suspicion flared.
Aveloria had known Eirene would never willingly take the Trial of Loyalty. She had been preparing for this exact moment. The thought of forcing a confession or dragging out the truth in some long exchange had exhausted her patience. She had a different solution ready, one that Elder Thalos had told her would expose everything for what it truly was.
Aveloria reached into the inside of her sleeve and closed her fingers around a tiny pouch. It didn’t make a sound, but she could feel the weight of it. She stepped away from the center of the hall and walked towards Eirene without warning.
"Aveloria," Alaric said from behind her, confused by her sudden movement.
Aveloria did not respond.
She walked directly toward Eirene. Her steps were fast and steady. Eirene froze where she stood, looking confused but not afraid—at least not immediately. Everyone watched Aveloria march across the floor.
When Aveloria reached her, she didn’t pause. She didn’t ask permission. She didn’t wait for Eirene to open her mouth to speak. She pulled the pouch open with a sharp twist of her fingers and flung the black powder directly at Eirene’s face and chest.
The powder burst across Eirene’s skin, clothes, and hair. She coughed and stepped backward, rubbing her eyes. For a second, nothing happened. Some people in the room even frowned in confusion.
Then the smell hit.
Before anyone could ask what was happening, a guttural grunt echoed from the far left of the hall. A second grunt followed near the center. Then a third. Then many more. They were not human sounds. They were distorted and harsh, like something dragging out of someone’s throat against their will.
Several humans began shaking violently. More bodies began shifting. Their backs arched, their arms jerked, their eyes turned black. When their bodies convulsed, some collapsed, and others clawed at their own skin. Bones cracked audibly. Skin stretched and split in places. Elongated limbs covered in patchy, matted fur. Their hands are clawed, too long to be human, too stubby to be wolf. Their faces are distorted, snouts jutting but never fully formed, with jagged, broken teeth. Dark veins bulged beneath their flesh. Their eyes darkened into black. They were the unmistakable signs of wanderers.
