Aelindra's POV
They gave me exactly thirty seconds to say goodbye to my old life.
Thirty seconds while Commander Thystra unlocked my cell and marched me down the corridor toward the Judgment Hall. Thirty seconds to look through the narrow window at the Apex Citadel sprawling below—the floating palace where I'd lived my entire life, where every street held a memory, where I'd been happy.
Had been.
Past tense.
"Move," Thystra commanded, shoving me forward.
I stumbled but didn't fall. Wouldn't give her the satisfaction. The storm-suppressing chains were gone now—they didn't think I was dangerous enough to need them anymore. That was their second mistake. Their first was letting me live long enough to realize what they'd done.
The massive doors of the Judgment Hall opened with a sound like thunder. Inside, hundreds of nobles packed the galleries, all of them eager to watch me fall. I recognized most of them—people who'd come to my birthday parties, who'd danced at my engagement celebration just yesterday, who'd smiled and laughed and pretended to be my friends.
Now they whispered behind their hands and stared at me like I was something disgusting they'd found on their shoes.
I held my head high and walked down the center aisle.
If they wanted a show, I'd give them one.
The Storm Council sat on their elevated platform, seven powerful figures who controlled everything in Stormhaven. High Councilor Moraveth dominated the center throne, looking down at me with cold satisfaction. To his right sat my father, Lord Aldric Stormwrought, who couldn't even meet my eyes.
Coward.
"Aelindra, formerly of House Stormwrought," Moraveth's voice boomed through the hall. "You have been found guilty of storm theft, the highest crime in our realm. Before we pass final judgment, do you have anything to say in your defense?"
I could beg. I could cry. I could throw myself on their mercy and plead for forgiveness for crimes I didn't commit.
Instead, I smiled.
"Yes," I said clearly. "I have something to say."
The hall went silent. Even Moraveth looked surprised.
Good.
"I'm innocent," I continued, my voice carrying to every corner of the massive room. "I never stole from the Tempest Vaults. I never threatened my sister. I never said the things Lord Cassiel claimed I said. Every piece of evidence against me was planted. Every witness against me lied."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Several Council members shifted uncomfortably.
"These are serious accusations," Moraveth said, but I saw something flicker in his eyes. Fear? "Do you have proof?"
"Do you?" I shot back. "You have magical recordings that could be faked. Vials that could have been placed in my room by anyone. And witnesses who both benefit from my destruction. My sister gets my name and my status. My fiancé gets—" I paused, looking directly at Cassiel where he sat in the noble section. "What do you get, Cassiel? A Council seat? Moraveth's favor? What was I worth to you?"
He went pale but said nothing.
"You dare suggest a conspiracy?" Moraveth's voice turned dangerous. "That Lord Cassiel, Lady Seraphine, and this entire Council would work together to destroy an innocent woman?"
"I'm not suggesting a conspiracy," I said flatly. "I'm stating a fact. You wanted me gone, and you used the two people I trusted most to make it happen."
The whispers grew louder. Some nobles looked intrigued. Others looked horrified.
Moraveth's face darkened. "You will not slander this Council with your paranoid fantasies—"
"Then let me prove my innocence!" I shouted. "Give me a truth-crystal. Let me speak under magical oath. If I'm lying, the crystal will shatter and you can throw me off the Citadel with a clear conscience. But if I'm telling the truth—"
"Enough!" Moraveth slammed his hand down, and lightning crackled around his fist. "This trial is over. The evidence is clear. The verdict stands."
He was shutting me down. Fast. Too fast.
Because he was afraid of what I might prove.
"Why?" I asked quietly, and the sudden change in my tone made everyone lean forward to hear. "That's what I can't understand. Why me? What did I do that was so dangerous you had to destroy me like this?"
For just a moment, Moraveth's mask slipped. His eyes met mine, and I saw the truth there.
He knew something about me. Something important. Something that made me a threat.
"Your bloodline," he said softly, so only the Council members and I could hear. "Your family carries something that should have died out generations ago. We couldn't risk you awakening it."
My heart stopped. "What are you talking about?"
But Moraveth was already standing, his voice rising for the crowd. "Aelindra, formerly of House Stormwrought, this Council hereby strips you of your Storm Chosen status. You are no longer permitted to use storm magic or claim the privileges of your birth. Your family name is revoked. You are exiled to the Lower Drifts, where you will live out your days as a warning to others who might betray our realm's trust."
"Father!" I turned desperately to Lord Aldric one last time. "Please! Whatever they told you, whatever they threatened you with—I'm your daughter! You held me when I was born! You taught me to call my first lightning! You know me!"
My father finally looked at me. His face was carved from granite, but his hands trembled on the armrests of his throne.
"You are no daughter of mine," he said, each word precise and terrible. "The daughter I raised died when she chose theft over honor. What stands before me now is a stranger wearing her face."
Something broke inside my chest. Not my heart—that had already shattered. Something deeper. Something that had believed, right up until this moment, that my father might love me enough to see the truth.
I was wrong.
"Fine," I said, and my voice came out dead, empty. "Then I have no father."
I turned back to the crowd, memorizing every face. Every noble who'd turned against me. Every Council member who'd participated in this farce. Every single person who'd chosen to believe lies because it was easier than defending me.
I would remember them all.
"Lord Aldric," Moraveth said formally. "As her father, you must be the one to cast her out. It is tradition."
My father stood slowly, and walked down from the Council platform. He stopped in front of me, close enough that I could see the tears he was holding back.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, so quietly only I could hear. "They said if I didn't do this, they'd kill you and Seraphine both. This way, at least you live."
My eyes widened. "Father—"
But he was already stepping back, his face hardening again. For the crowd, he had to play his part.
"By the authority granted to House Stormwrought, I hereby disown you," he declared. "You carry our blood no longer. You bear our name no longer. You are cast out from this family forever."
Storm magic flared around him—not an attack, but a severing. I felt something tear inside me, like invisible threads being cut. The connection to my family's ancestral power. The bond that tied me to House Stormwrought.
Gone.
All of it, gone.
I stumbled, suddenly feeling lighter and heavier at the same time.
"Take her to the edge," Moraveth commanded. "Let her fall, and let her be forgotten."
Commander Thystra gripped my arm, surprisingly gentle. "Come on," she muttered. "Don't make this worse."
As the guards escorted me from the hall, I heard Seraphine's voice ring out: "I forgive you, sister! I hope you find peace in exile!"
I didn't turn around. Didn't give her the satisfaction.
But I filed that away too. Another debt to be repaid.
They marched me through the Citadel's streets as citizens gathered to watch. Some threw garbage. Some spat. One old woman who'd known me since childhood just cried silently, covering her mouth.
At least someone mourned me.
The edge of the Apex Citadel loomed ahead—a sheer drop into the clouds, into the Lower Drifts far below, into a world I'd never even visited because nobles didn't go to places like that.
Now it would be my home.
If I survived the fall.
Thystra stopped at the very edge, still holding my arm. "For what it's worth," she said quietly. "I don't think you did it. But orders are orders."
"Then you're a coward too," I replied.
She flinched, but didn't deny it.
"Wait!" A voice called out. Cassiel pushed through the crowd, breathing hard like he'd been running. "Wait, I need to—I need to say goodbye."
Thystra stepped back, giving us space.
Cassiel stood before me, his handsome face full of anguish that looked real enough to be convincing. "Lyn, I—"
I slapped him.
The sound cracked across the crowd like lightning. His head snapped to the side, and when he looked back at me, there was a red mark blooming on his cheek.
"Don't call me that," I hissed. "You lost that right when you lied on the witness stand."
"I had to," he whispered urgently. "Lyn—Aelindra—they threatened me. They said if I didn't testify, they'd frame my entire family for treason. I had no choice!"
"Everyone has a choice," I said coldly. "You chose to save yourself and let me burn."
"I'm sorry! I'll make this right, I swear! Once things calm down, I'll investigate, I'll find proof—"
"Don't bother." I leaned close, making sure only he could hear. "Because I'm going to survive this fall. I'm going to survive the Lower Drifts. And I'm going to come back stronger than you can imagine. And when I do, Cassiel? When I do, you're going to wish you'd defended me when you had the chance."
His eyes widened. "Are you threatening me?"
"No," I smiled, sharp and vicious. "I'm making a promise."
Thystra pulled me back. "Enough. It's time."
She positioned me at the very edge. One more step, and there'd be nothing but air and a long, long fall.
"Any last words?" she asked.
I looked back at the Apex Citadel—at my home, my prison, my past. At all the people who'd failed me. At the sister who'd betrayed me and the father who'd disowned me and the man who'd broken my heart.
"Yes," I said clearly. "Remember my name. Because the next time you hear it, everything will be different."
Then I stepped backward into empty air.
The fall was immediate and terrifying. Wind screamed past me, tearing at my clothes and hair. The clouds rushed up to swallow me. The Lower Drifts appeared below—dark, grim islands floating in the storm.
This should have killed me. Was supposed to kill me.
But as I fell, that strange presence in my chest stirred again. The thing that had flickered to life when the chains sparked.
And it whispered: Not yet. You're not done yet.
Storm magic I'd never felt before exploded through my veins—not the polite, controlled power I'd been taught. Something wild. Something ancient.
Something that had been waiting my entire life to wake up.
Lightning cracked across the sky, and I swore I heard it laugh.