# Chapter 134: The Concord's Judgment
The Concord Council chamber was a room built for illusion. High, vaulted ceilings were painted with frescoes depicting a sanitized version of the Bloom, where heroic figures held back the grey tide with righteous light. Sunlight, filtered through thick crystal panes, cast long, solemn shadows across the polished obsidian floor. In the center of the room, a great triangular table of the same black stone served as the stage for the three great powers. The air, usually thick with the scent of old parchment and expensive perfumes, was today sharp with the ozone of panic and accusation.
Lord Valerius, High Inquisitor of the Radiant Synod, stood at his designated apex. He did not sit. His presence was a blade, and he preferred to hold it at the ready. His white Synod robes were immaculate, a stark contrast to the turmoil he had carefully orchestrated. He let the silence stretch, allowing the news to settle in the room like a poisonous fog. The report from the Veridian Ladder arena had arrived an hour ago: a catastrophic structural failure, mass casualties, and the confirmed disappearance of two high-value targets, Soren Vale and the Sable League operative, Nyra Sableki. The official story was a tragic accident. Valerius was here to ensure the truth became a weapon.
Across from him, Baroness Elara Vane of the Crownlands gripped the arms of her gilded chair, her knuckles white. Her usually placid, aristocratic features were a mask of fury. "A tragedy? A tragedy is a flood, Valerius. A failed harvest. This was a massacre. My people died in that arena. My champion, Kaelen Vor, is grievously wounded. And you stand there telling me it was a structural failure?" Her voice, sharp and cutting, echoed in the chamber. The scent of her lavender perfume, usually a calming presence, now seemed cloying, a desperate attempt to maintain decorum.
"The Ladder Commission's engineers are quite thorough, Baroness," Valerius replied, his voice a smooth, placid counterpoint to her rage. "They found evidence of a localized energy surge, consistent with an uncontrolled Gift. A dangerous, unrefined Gift. The kind a certain debt-bound commoner from the Crownlands possesses." He let the implication hang in the air. He wasn't just blaming Soren; he was blaming the Crownlands for producing him, for their lax oversight of their indentured populace.
The third apex of the triangle, a woman named Talia Ashfor representing the Sable League, had not yet spoken. She was a study in controlled stillness, dressed in severe, grey silks that offered no hint of her house's wealth. She simply watched, her dark eyes missing nothing, her fingers steepled before her. She was a spymaster, and this council was just a larger, more formal arena for the same games she played in the shadows.
"Do not dare pin the Synod's failure on us, Inquisitor," Elara shot back, rising to her feet. The rustle of her heavy velvet gown was like the sound of dry leaves. "Soren Vale was your problem. You were the ones who demanded he be pushed into higher-stakes Trials. You wanted to test his limits. Well, you found them. And in the process, you've given the Sable League the perfect cover to spirit away one of their agents." She turned her glare on Talia. "An agent who, I might add, was masquerading under a false identity. An act of war, by the Concord's own statutes."
Talia finally moved, unfolding her hands with a deliberate, fluid grace. "Baroness, your grief is understandable, but your accusations are misplaced. The Sable League had no operative in the Veridian Ladder. We had a competitor, sponsored by a minor house, who was tragically caught in this… incident. To suggest we engineered a disaster that killed dozens of our own citizens and merchants is absurd." Her voice was calm, reasonable, but it held an edge of cold steel. "If anyone should be questioned, it is the Synod. You control the Ladder's security. You vet the Gifted. This 'uncontrolled surge' you speak of—how did it bypass your Inquisitors? How did a Sable League 'agent,' as you call her, manage to operate under your nose for months? This smells of incompetence, Lord Valerius. Or worse, complicity."
Valerius allowed himself a thin, humorless smile. He had expected this. The dance was always the same. "The Synod does not make a habit of monitoring the private affairs of every minor competitor. We focus on true threats. And now we have one. Soren Vale, empowered by Sable League treachery, is a loose cannon. His Gift is a contagion. He has already demonstrated his capacity for mass destruction. He must be brought to heel before he triggers another Bloom."
He gestured to a projection crystal in the center of the table. With a flick of his wrist, an image shimmered into existence: a still-frame from the arena's scrying-globe, showing Soren wreathed in incandescent orange light, his body a furnace of raw power. The image was terrifying. It was also a fabrication, carefully edited by Valerius's own acolytes to maximize the sense of dread.
Elara Vane flinched at the sight. She had heard the stories, but seeing it was another matter. "He is a Crownlands subject," she said, her voice losing some of its fire, replaced by a grim pragmatism. "Any action taken against him will be executed by the Crownlands' Wardens. We will handle our own."
"You had your chance," Valerius said, his voice dropping to a low, menacing register. "Your Wardens couldn't contain him in the arena. What makes you think they will fare better in the wastes? He is protected by the Sable League, and he is traveling with a monster." He made another gesture, and a new image appeared: a blurry, long-range capture of ruku bez, a hulking silhouette of impossible scale standing over the others. "This is not a matter for local constables. This is a threat to the Concord itself. I move that we invoke Article Seven of the Concord of Cinders. I move that we declare Soren Vale and his co-conspirators, including the Sable League operative Nyra Sableki, Enemies of the Concord. A unanimous vote will authorize a cross-territory task force, led by my Inquisitors, to hunt them down and extinguish this threat."
The chamber fell silent. Article Seven was the nuclear option. It suspended all territorial claims, all local jurisdictions. It was a declaration of total war against an individual, a tool meant for existential threats, not for runaway gladiators. To invoke it for Soren Vale was an act of breathtaking political aggression. Valerius wasn't just asking for permission to hunt Soren; he was asking for the authority to march his Inquisitors into Crownlands and Sable League territory, to override their sovereignty, all in the name of security.
"You cannot be serious," Elara breathed, sinking back into her chair. The fight seemed to drain out of her. "To give the Synod a blank check to hunt one man? The precedent is terrifying."
"The precedent is already set," Valerius countered smoothly. "The moment the Bloom was unleashed, the Concord agreed that some threats supersede borders. This is one of them. The Sable League's shadow games have unleashed a power they cannot control. We must be the ones to clean up their mess."
All eyes turned to Talia Ashfor. The vote would deadlock. The Crownlands would never cede their authority so completely, and the Sable League would never vote to condemn their own, even a rogue operative. Valerius knew this. He had not come here expecting to win. He had come here to set the stage.
Talia's expression was unreadable. She looked from the image of the fiery Soren to the cold, triumphant face of Valerius. She knew this was a trap. To vote yes was to surrender the initiative to the Synod. To vote no was to appear complicit, to defend a known agent and risk a wider conflict with the Crownlands, who were already baying for Sable blood. It was a checkmate, designed to paralyze her.
"I abstain," she said, her voice quiet but clear. "The Sable League cannot, in good conscience, vote to condemn one of our own without a proper trial. But neither can we vote for a measure that would grant the Synod such sweeping power based on what may be… manipulated evidence." She gave Valerius a pointed look. "An independent investigation is required. Until such a time, we will not be party to this."
"As I expected," Valerius said, his smile widening. He turned to Elara Vane. "And you, Baroness? Will you protect your people, or will you allow your pride to shield a monster who has already cost you so much?"
Elara's face was a storm of conflicting emotions. Grief, anger, pride, and fear warred behind her eyes. She looked at the image of Soren, at the raw, destructive power he represented. He was a commoner, a debtor. But he was also a citizen of the Crownlands. To hand him over to the Synod was an admission of failure, a sign of weakness. But to refuse… to refuse was to risk Valerius's wrath, and perhaps another catastrophe.
"I… also abstain," she said, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. "The matter requires further deliberation. The Crownlands will not be rushed into a decision of this magnitude."
The deadlock was complete. The motion had failed. Valerius should have been disappointed. Instead, he looked like a predator that had just cornered its prey. He clasped his hands behind his back, the picture of solemn duty.
"A pity," he said, his voice resonating with false regret. "A true pity that the Concord cannot find the will to act decisively in a time of crisis." He paused, letting his words hang in the tense silence. He looked from Talia to Elara, his gaze lingering on each of them. "However, the Concord of Cinders is not entirely without foresight. The architects of our great peace understood that sometimes, politics could be… cumbersome. That sometimes, a threat required immediate action before a vote could be mustered."
He began to pace slowly around the triangular table, his soft boots making no sound on the obsidian floor. "There is a provision. A rarely used clause, designed for exactly such an eventuality. Article Twelve, subsection four. It allows for 'provisional enforcement' by the aggrieved party in a time of clear and present danger, pending a full council review." He stopped, turning to face them both. His thin smile was back, but now it was not just predatory; it was victorious. "The Synod's arena was destroyed. Our Inquisitors were targeted. Our authority was defied. We are the aggrieved party. The danger is clear. Therefore, I am authorized, by the Concord's own laws, to take all necessary measures to neutralize this threat. I am authorized to hunt Soren Vale and his accomplices to the ends of the earth."
The blood drained from Elara Vane's face. Talia Ashfor's composure finally cracked, a flicker of raw fury in her eyes. He had played them. He had never needed their vote. He had only needed the deadlock, the inaction, to justify his own.
"You wouldn't dare," Talia snarled, her voice low and dangerous.
"I am not daring, Envoy Ashfor," Valerius said, his voice as cold as the wastes outside the walls. "I am enforcing the Concord. My Inquisitors are already mobilizing. High Inquisitor Isolde herself is leading the hunt. You have been… notified." He gave a short, sharp bow. "May the Light guide us all through these dark times."
He turned and walked from the chamber, the echo of his boots the only sound. He left behind two powerful representatives, suddenly realizing they were no longer players in the game. They were pieces on his board, and he had just moved them into check. The hunt was on, sanctioned not by a vote, but by a loophole, a crack in the foundation of their fragile peace that Valerius had just shattered wide open.