The holding chamber was small, deliberately so.
Stone walls.One narrow window barred with etched suppression runes.A single table fixed to the floor, two chairs opposite each other.
The boy sat on one.
He couldn't have been older than thirteen.
His wrists were free — not out of mercy, but because restraints were pointless.The suppression field in the room dampened magic, echoes, and even emotional surges. It forced honesty not through pain, but through stillness.
The door opened without sound.
The boy flinched.
Eris Vale entered alone.
No guards.No professors.No Saphine.
Just him.
He did not sit immediately.
He looked at the boy for a long moment — long enough that the boy's shoulders tensed, then slumped.
Finally, Eris pulled the chair back and sat.
No introduction.
No accusation.
Just a calm, neutral voice.
"Tell me your name."
The boy hesitated.
"…Irel."
Eris nodded once."Irel Dane."
A flicker of surprise crossed the boy's face.
"You already know."
"I do."
Eris folded his hands on the table.
"You know why you're here."
Irel swallowed.
"I killed them."
No denial.No defiance.
Just a statement of fact.
Eris's expression did not change.
"Three adults," Eris said evenly. "All confirmed dead. One child in a coma. Your sister."
At the word sister, Irel's breath hitched.
"Yes."
Eris leaned back slightly.
"Good. Then we won't waste time pretending this is about guilt."His eyes sharpened, not cruelly — precisely."This is about cause."
Irel clenched his fists.
"They deserved it."
The words came out too fast. Too practiced.
Eris did not react.
"Start from the beginning," he said."Not the night it happened.Before that."
Silence stretched.
Then Irel spoke.
"They said she was cursed."
Eris listened.
"They said she brought bad luck. That our parents dying was because of her. They said she smiled too much for someone who should be grateful."
His voice trembled, but he continued.
"They made her clean their houses. Watch their children. They hit her when she spoke back. They…"His teeth clenched."They did worse when no one was watching."
Eris's gaze darkened — just a fraction.
"You told someone."
"Yes." Irel nodded quickly. "The elders. The guards. They said it was… family discipline."
Eris's fingers tapped once against the table.
"And the night of the incident?"
Irel closed his eyes.
"They came drunk. All three of them. They said they were 'teaching her respect.'"His breathing became uneven."I tried to stop them. They laughed."
The air in the room grew heavier — not from power, but from memory.
"I felt something burn in my chest," Irel whispered."Like my heart cracked open."
Eris's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Magic."
Irel nodded.
"I didn't know I had it. I didn't even know what I was doing."Tears slipped down his face."I just wanted them to stop."
Eris leaned forward.
"And your sister?"
Irel's hands shook.
"She screamed. I panicked. I tried to pull the power back but—"He sobbed once, sharply."She was too close. She fell. She wouldn't wake up."
Silence fell again.
Then Eris asked, very quietly:
"Do you regret killing them?"
Irel hesitated.
"…No."
Eris accepted that without comment.
"Do you regret hurting your sister?"
Irel broke.
"Yes," he choked. "Every second."
Eris stood.
Irel looked up at him, terrified.
"Am I going to die?" the boy asked.
Eris's voice was calm.
"That depends on something else."
He paused at the door.
"You have a friend," Eris said without turning."A girl. Twelve. She hasn't visited you."
Irel flinched as if struck.
"…Lira."
"She hates you now," Eris continued evenly."Because one of the men you killed was her elder brother."
Irel's face collapsed.
"I didn't know—"
"I know," Eris said.
He finally turned back.
"Here is the truth, Irel. The world does not care why you broke."His eyes were unreadable."It only cares that you did."
He placed a hand briefly on the door.
"But I care about patterns. And this one does not belong to a murderer."
Irel stared at him.
"What… happens now?"
Eris looked at him — really looked — as Akasha stirred faintly behind his eyes.
"I will speak in court," Eris said."And when I do, I will not ask for mercy."
Irel's heart sank.
"I will demand judgment," Eris finished."On everyone who failed you."
The door opened.
Before leaving, Eris added one last thing:
"And Irel?"
"Yes…?"
"You didn't lose control."
Eris's voice was iron-steady.
"You were pushed until something answered."
The door closed.
Irel Dane sat alone — shaking, crying — but for the first time since that night…
Not completely swallowed by darkness.