Chapter 5 COUNCIL GAMES

Cassian Rhys stood before twelve high-backed chairs, each carved with the symbol of a city quadrant, each occupied by someone who could destroy him.

The Council.

He'd stood here many times-usually to deliver a closing argument, or recommend sentencing.

This time, he was the case.

A spotlight glared down from above. The chamber was silent, clinical-designed to unsettle.

It worked.

Minister Harlan was the first to speak. "Cassian Rhys. Counselor. Prosecutor. Council affiliate. Sworn enforcer of magical law." He leaned forward. "Tell me... when did you decide you were above it?"

Cassian's jaw tightened. He didn't answer right away.

Beside Harlan, the red-robed woman-Councilor Kestrel, though everyone just called her The Flame-spoke in a softer voice.

"We've seen the footage, Mr. Rhys. The binding. The blood seal. The rebel broadcast." She tapped her long, red nails on the table. "Elira Vale isn't just a rogue. She's an active threat."

Cassian let out a slow breath. "She was not involved in the leak."

That was the lie.

The first one.

Kestrel arched a brow. "So you're suggesting this... independent, highly magical, legacy-tier bloodline just happened to be in the room with the Codex when it broadcast itself to a rebel net?"

Cassian's expression didn't flinch. "I'm suggesting coincidence isn't evidence."

"You forged a Pacte Sanguinem," Harlan snapped. "You made her your proxy."

"I followed legal precedent. Section 77 of the Spellbearer Accord."

Kestrel smiled. "Don't quote law to me, Counselor. I wrote that clause."

Cassian remained still, even as the room tightened around him like a vice.

Harlan rose to his feet. "We gave you the assignment. Surveillance. Extraction. Control."

"I filed weekly reports."

"But you didn't act," Kestrel said. "You bonded with her."

"I contained her," Cassian said flatly. "I kept her within range. I maintained visibility. If she was planning treason, I would have known."

Another lie.

Because he had known.

Because he'd helped her do it.

The Flame leaned back in her chair. "You're sweating."

"I'm standing in a room with executioners. It's hot."

Kestrel smiled, but there was no humor in it.

"You were once the Council's favorite," she said. "We polished your record. Protected your reputation. Sent you to trials where others were buried."

"I never asked for favors."

"No," Harlan agreed. "You earned them. With loyalty."

A long pause followed.

"And now?" Kestrel asked. "Where does your loyalty lie?"

Cassian didn't blink. "With the law."

It wasn't a lie.

Not exactly.

Just... not their law anymore.

**Antechamber – Minutes Later**

Cassian stood at the basin, sleeves rolled, cold water dripping from his wrists. His face in the mirror looked the same-but something had fractured beneath the surface.

He had lied to the Council.

For her.

And not because she asked him to.

Because he wanted to.

He heard the door open behind him.

It was Ivy, his paralegal. Trusted. Quiet. Smart.

"They bought it," she said softly.

"For now," he replied.

She passed him a slip of parchment. "From the internal sweep. Unauthorized blood access. Level Four-scrubbed from the record."

Cassian took it. He scanned it quickly. A name stood out in red ink.

K-92. Council Operative. Extraction Clearance Pending.

"Forty-eight hours?" he asked.

Ivy nodded grimly. "They've classified her as an 'unstable magical asset.' The directive is to subdue or eliminate. Quietly."

Cassian folded the note and tucked it into his jacket.

"She doesn't know yet," Ivy said. "Do you want me to warn her?"

Cassian shook his head. "Not yet. If she reacts too early, they'll accelerate." "She trusts me."

Ivy didn't argue.

Instead, she touched his shoulder briefly. "Careful, Cass. They're not watching her anymore. They're watching you."

"I'll handle it," he said.

Ivy looked hesitant. "You can't protect her forever."

"I'm not protecting her," he replied. "I'm giving her time."

**Council Hall- Same Evening**

Back in the chamber, Councilor Kestrel stood before the other members, hands clasped.

"He lied," she said simply.

Harlan nodded. "Of course."

Kestrel's eyes gleamed. "Which means we don't need to question his loyalty anymore."

The others looked confused.

She smiled.

"He lied for her. Which means he's attached."

Harlan frowned. "Which makes him unpredictable."

"Which makes him useful," she said smoothly. "We just have to aim him in the right direction."

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Cassian didn't speak on the ride home. He barely breathed.

When he stepped into his apartment, it felt colder than usual.

The lights hummed on automatically, casting soft shadows across the floor. The curtains were half-drawn, revealing New Argenta's skyline-clean, bright, and artificial. All lies.

He hung his coat. Poured himself a drink. Sat in silence.

Then he opened the drawer beneath his desk.

Inside: a coat.

Black. Slim-cut. Familiar.

Elira's.

She'd left it behind after their rooftop pact.

She probably hadn't even noticed.

He picked it up, weighed it in his hands. Her scent still lingered faintly-cinnamon and ink and old magic.

He didn't know why he hadn't returned it.

Maybe because it proved something had happened.

That it hadn't all been a dream.

Cassian set it aside and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

His mind drifted-unbidden-back to the first time he saw her.

**Flashback - Ministry Archives, Six Months Earlier**

Cassian remembered the first time he saw her.

Not as Nyx. Not masked, seductive, or shadow-born.

But as Elira Vale.

A quiet figure in the Ministry Archives, gloves on, hair up, scribbling annotations by hand when everyone else used quills that wrote themselves.

She was shelving relics.

Not with the usual bored routine of a low-level employee, but with care. She handled a cracked rune stone like it still deserved reverence. She labeled each item by hand. She even whispered something as she sealed the display-something soft, in a language older than the city.

She hadn't noticed him then. Most people didn't.

But he noticed her.

Because she was hiding something.

Cassian had paused in the doorway longer than he should've.

She wasn't powerful-not then.

She was quiet. Dismissable.

That's why she was dangerous.

He'd been told to observe her. Assess her potential connection to the residuals from Project Revenant. She wasn't flagged as dangerous-only as "legacy lineage, low risk."

He reported nothing.

He should have.

But he didn't.

-------------------------------

He sat at his desk long after nightfall, a case file open, but untouched. His tie hung loose around his neck. The window was cracked just enough for the night air to bleed in.

On his desk sat two things:

• A surveillance photo of Elira on the rooftop, mid-broadcast.

•A child's bracelet. The one they found in District Twelve.

He stared at both for a long time.

Then, slowly, carefully...

He locked the bracelet in his drawer.

And placed the photo face-down.

Because Cassian Rhys, golden boy of the Council, perfect record, master of law...

Had just made his first illegal move.

For her.

And he knew the next one might cost him everything.

He accessed the Council's internal case tracker. The security clearance still accepted his fingerprint, though he knew it was being monitored now.

Elira's file had been moved.

Not flagged. Not terminated.

Re-classified.

From Subject: Surveillance to Subject: Extraction Protocol - Stage I.

That meant they weren't planning to watch her anymore.

They were preparing to take her.

And the reason?

A red tag at the bottom of the page:

"Potential Key - Revenant Awakening Candidate."

Cassian cursed under his breath.

She wasn't a witness anymore.

She was a trigger.

He opened a second file-Kestrel's operative network. Internal agents. Enforcers. "Sanctioned" removals. Each had a code and an assigned quadrant.

One name flashed red.

K-92: Pending Authorization - Task: Subdue Subject E.V. Deadline: 48 hours.

Cassian sat back, throat dry.

They were giving her two days.

Then they'd take her.

Or kill her.

-------------------------

The walls here were soundproofed. Runes etched into the corners. Shielded from scrying.

He locked the door, drew the blinds, and sat at his private terminal.

Cassian stared at the monitor for a long time.

Then, slowly, he reached beneath his desk and unlocked the drawer where he kept the old things-the things no one, not even Ivy, knew he hadn't destroyed.

Inside:

His original Revenant case notes

A hidden contact link to a dead underground network

And a hollow coin bearing a phoenix sigil-a token of immunity from an old rebel court, back before the war ended.

His hands hesitated above the keys.

Then he typed in his override clearance.

The files loaded.

Elira's name appeared at the top of the list.

Subject: E. Vale. Legacy Threat. Extraction Protocol: Active.

He read through the updates. Her broadcast had gone viral across shadow channels. Rebel groups were already circulating her name as a symbol.

But the Council wasn't preparing a counter-message.

They were preparing a removal.

His fingers trembled slightly as he opened the internal operative list.

There it was again:

K-92. Orders pending.

He pulled up Ivy's internal profile. Left a single instruction in the private note field:

"When things quiet down, I need you to check on her. Not as my paralegal. But as the only person I trust."

He encrypted the message with a personal key.

Then opened a blank file on his desk.

He pulled out a silver pen. The same kind used for declarations of intent.

And wrote:

"Client: Elira Vale

Classification: High risk

Directive: Protect at all costs."

He stared at the page for a long time.

Then slid it into his secure binder.

He crossed the room and opened the false panel behind his bookshelf.

Inside sat one thing: a phoenix coin. Rebel-marked. Old. Forgotten.

Cassian stared at it.

He picked it up.

He held the coin between his fingers.

"I swore I'd never be a rebel," he whispered.

He placed it on the table.

Then pulled out a blank dossier.

On the cover, he wrote one name.

Vale, Elira.

Not as a target.

But as a client.

Because he couldn't stop the Council from coming.

But he could prepare her for when they did.