The first banner fell at midday.
Alisha was in the Hall of Maps when Rowan felt it—an abrupt tear in the city's ward network, sharp and deliberate. Not an attack. A rejection.
He went still.
"Alisha," he said slowly. "The East Bastion just withdrew its oath."
Her fingers tightened against the edge of the table. "Withdrawn… how?"
"They severed their ward-keys," Rowan replied. "Voluntarily."
The room felt colder.
No one had done that in generations.
The East Bastion controlled one of Valoria's primary ley junctions—an ancient node that fed protective magic into the outer districts. Cutting it off didn't collapse the system, but it sent a message loud enough to shake the palace walls.
Caelan cursed under his breath. "They're making a statement."
"Yes," Alisha said quietly. "And inviting an answer."
Before anyone could respond, a guard burst into the chamber, breathless.
"My lady—there's a delegation at the eastern gate. They refuse entry unless they speak to you directly."
Rowan's jaw tightened. "That was fast."
Alisha straightened. "They want to be seen."
The eastern gate courtyard was already crowded when she arrived.
Citizens lined the upper balconies, murmuring as armored figures stood in rigid formation below. At their center flew the sigil of House Veyra—an old noble line, fiercely traditional, known for its unwavering devotion to the moon.
Lord Veyra himself stepped forward.
"My Lunar Heir," he said, bowing just shallow enough to insult. "We come in peace."
Alisha studied him calmly. "Peace usually doesn't arrive after cutting ward-ties."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Lord Veyra smiled thinly. "We no longer recognize a system that answers to an individual instead of divine order."
There it was.
"You fear what you can't control," Alisha said.
"We fear instability," he countered. "The moon has governed us for centuries. You've replaced certainty with… yourself."
"I didn't replace it," she replied evenly. "I share the burden."
"With shadow," he said sharply. "With forbidden power."
The word forbidden struck the crowd like a spark.
Alisha felt the Eclipse stir, steady but alert.
"You withdrew your oath," she said. "Do you also withdraw your protection of the people living under your bastion?"
Lord Veyra hesitated—just long enough.
That hesitation cost him.
The ground beneath the courtyard pulsed.
Not violently.
Authoritatively.
Alisha extended her hand, not toward him, but toward the city itself.
"The wards still stand," she said. "Because the people still need them."
A ripple of relief swept the balconies.
Lord Veyra's expression hardened.
"Then we will seek protection elsewhere."
A chill slid down Alisha's spine.
Rowan stepped forward. "There is nowhere else."
Lord Veyra's smile widened.
"That's where you're wrong."
The air darkened.
Not like nightfall—but like ink spreading through water.
A figure stepped out of the distortion behind Lord Veyra, his presence bending the light around him without extinguishing it. He wore no crown, no armor—only dark robes etched with sigils that hurt to look at.
Every ward in the courtyard screamed.
Alisha staggered as pressure slammed into her awareness.
The emissary inclined his head politely.
"Forgive the intrusion," he said calmly. "I bring greetings."
The crowd recoiled in terror.
Caelan drew his sword instantly. "Shadowspawn."
The emissary smiled. "Such crude language."
Alisha forced herself upright. "Who are you?"
"I am called Sereth," he replied. "Voice of the Sovereign Beyond the Veil."
The Shadow King.
Not him—but close enough.
"I come with an offer," Sereth continued smoothly, addressing both Alisha and the watching nobles. "Protection without dependence. Power without submission."
Lord Veyra straightened, emboldened. "A new covenant."
Alisha's voice cut through the air like steel.
"No."
Sereth turned to her, curious. "You refuse without hearing terms?"
"I know your terms," she said. "They always end the same way."
"Does the moon not also demand sacrifice?" he asked gently. "Yet you served it gladly."
The words struck deeper than intended.
Alisha steadied herself.
"The difference," she said, "is choice."
She reached inward.
Light and shadow answered together.
The Eclipse Path flared—not explosively, but decisively.
Sereth's smile faded as the space around Alisha locked.
For the first time, his connection wavered.
"You stand where you shouldn't," he said quietly.
"I stand where the world needs me," she replied.
The wards surged—not attacking him, but denying him anchor.
Sereth stepped back, assessing her with new caution.
"This isn't over," he said. "It's only begun."
The distortion collapsed.
Lord Veyra fell to his knees, shaking.
Silence crashed down on the courtyard.
Alisha exhaled slowly.
She felt it now—clearly.
This was no longer a question of balance.
It was a war for allegiance.
And she had just drawn the first unmistakable line.