Ti/Date: TC1853.01.23 – Mid Morning
Location: tropolitan Police Station → Transit to Brenner Estate
Kael left the Seer Council Tower with Master Chen’s words echoing in his mind like a death knell. She owes you nothing. Everything she becos will be hers alone.
The guardian spirits had withdrawn. Prophecies had been destroyed. And sowhere in the chaos of imperial arrogance and systematic deception, the crescent child—the girl who should have saved them all—had been driven away by the very people ant to protect her.
He needed answers. Not vague prophecies or shattered visions, but concrete facts about what had actually happened. About who knew what, and when.
And there was only one place to start.
***
The tropolitan Police Station lood ahead, its austere facade a monunt to order in a city that felt increasingly unstable. Kael strode through the entrance with imperial authority that made officers scramble out of his way, though their expressions carried less deference than they had days ago.
News of the guardian withdrawal had spread. Everyone knew the Xuán dynasty had lost cosmic favor.
"I need to see Commissioner Wu," Kael said to the desk sergeant. "Imdiately."
The officer’s eyes widened. "Your Highness, the Commissioner is—"
"Now."
***
Commissioner Wu looked up from his desk as Kael entered without knocking, dark crimson eyes sharp with the kind of assessnt that ca from thirty years of navigating the treacherous waters between law enforcent and clan politics.
"Imperial Heir." Wu’s voice carried careful neutrality. "This is unexpected. I assu you’re here about the Brenner case?"
"I need to speak with Edmund Brenner," Kael said without preamble. "Privately."
Wu’s expression didn’t change, but sothing flickered in his eyes. Calculation. "That’s... highly irregular. He’s in custody awaiting formal charges. Allowing unsupervised contact with—"
"This is of utmost importance," Kael interrupted. "Not just to my family. To the entire Empire."
The Commissioner leaned back in his chair, studying Kael with uncomfortable intensity. "The Brenner investigation has already revealed a significant criminal conspiracy. What could possibly be more important than what we’ve already uncovered?"
Kael t his gaze directly. "Commissioner Wu, what I need to discuss with Edmund Brenner relates to matters that could affect multiple celestial families. Information that, if improperly disclosed, could trigger political catastrophes we’re not prepared to handle."
Understanding dawned in Wu’s eyes, followed imdiately by suspicion. "You’re asking to step aside. To allow you unsupervised access to a prisoner in my custody without oversight or docuntation."
"Yes."
"No." Wu’s voice carried flat finality. "Whatever you need to ask, you can ask with present. I’m not so puppet to be dismissed when imperial politics find law enforcent inconvenient."
Kael felt frustration rising, but forced it down. Forced himself to think strategically instead of acting on imperial instinct that expected imdiate obedience.
"If it’s Commissioner Wu," Kael said carefully, "then it’s fine. But Wu from the Wu clan? It can’t be. This involves privacy related to other celestial families, and I can’t have what’s divulged being known to those families. Not yet."
The words landed like a physical blow. Wu’s expression hardened, jaw clenching with the kind of anger that ca from having one’s worst suspicions confird.
"You’re asking to betray my clan," Wu said, voice dangerously quiet. "To hear information that could affect the Wu family’s political position and keep it secret. To choose professional duty over blood loyalty."
"I’m asking you to recognize that so truths are too dangerous to weaponize," Kael countered. "That sotis the greater good requires discretion rather than imdiate action."
Silence stretched between them, heavy with implications neither wanted to fully acknowledge.
Finally, Wu spoke. "I swear an oath. Unless what’s discussed directly threatens the Wu clan’s survival or relates to the Sundering itself, I will keep what’s said private. But if either of those conditions are t, my duty to my family takes precedence. That’s non-negotiable."
Kael considered the terms. It wasn’t perfect—left too much room for interpretation—but he wouldn’t get better. And realistically, if Edmund revealed information about the Sundering or threats to celestial survival, Kael would be honor-bound to share it anyway.
"Agreed," Kael said. "Bring him in."
***
Edmund Brenner looked like a man who’d aged ten years in three days.
They brought him into the small interrogation room in restraints, though his shoulders sagged with exhaustion rather than defiance. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his usually immaculate appearance had deteriorated into rumpled clothing and unkempt hair.
When he saw Kael waiting with Commissioner Wu, sothing shifted in his expression. Not quite fear. More like... resignation.
"What’s happening?" Edmund demanded, voice rough with strain. "Where are my wife and daughters? Nobody will tell anything. I’ve been kept in the dark since—"
"Many things have co out of the investigation," Wu interrupted, voice carrying professional detachnt. "Things that have changed the entire scope of the case."
Edmund’s eyes widened. "Changed how? What are you talking about?"
Kael leaned forward, golden eyes intense. "I have questions, Edmund. Questions that could have a huge impact on the Brenners. What you’re facing now—the charges, the scandal, the legal consequences—all of it is minute compared to the new information that’s co out."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"If you have any decency left, you’ll answer our questions truthfully. This conversation is off the record."
Edmund’s face went pale. Off the record. That phrase, in this context, ant sothing terrible had happened. Sothing so catastrophic that even imperial authority wanted no official docuntation of the discussion.
"Does yesterday’s disturbance have anything to do with it?" Edmund whispered.
Kael’s expression answered before his words did.
"Even in the holding cell, I felt it," Edmund continued, voice gaining desperate intensity. "That awful pressure. Then the chaos that erupted. The guards wouldn’t answer questions, but I knew—sohow I knew—it was related to us. I spent most the night awake, wondering what the hell happened."
"Yes," Kael said bluntly. "And if what I suspect is true, then your family is directly responsible for the destruction of the Empire. Maybe the whole of Ascara."
Wu jolted in his chair, hand tightening on the armrest.
Edmund sagged as though the whole world had just climbed onto his shoulders. "I suspected so," he whispered.
Then, like a man who’d just broken, he looked at Kael with eyes that held nothing but defeated acceptance. "Ask your questions."
Kael didn’t waste ti with preamble. "Amara. When did she first display her Seer abilities?"
Edmund’s laugh ca out bitter. Broken. "I... I learned about her supposed Seer abilities just over twelve days ago. On the tenth. My father had kept it hidden from . Decided that even as Amara’s father, I had no right to know."
His voice took on a hollow quality, reciting facts that clearly still haunted him.
"That day, she had a vision in my father’s room. She was the one who told us how to destroy the evidence and kill Mara. How to make it look like an accident. My father initially wasn’t torn about it—he’s always been ruthless when protecting family interests, but he was concerned about the repercussions. But then..." Edmund’s hands clenched. "Then he had a vision. Wouldn’t tell what he ’saw,’ but whatever it was, it changed him. He beca absolutely determined to destroy Mara. The way he looked at Amara afterward..."
Edmund’s voice dropped to sothing almost frightened.
"It was creepy. Filled with awe. Reverence. Like he’d seen a god. And underneath that, a touch of fear. From that point, there was no turning back."
"And so you helped them—arranged to destroy evidence and murder an innocent girl," Wu said, not quite accusation but close.
"I knew if I didn’t, I’d be excluded," Edmund admitted. "My father would cut out of the family entirely. And while every part of scread it was wrong, I couldn’t disobey him—he’s my father. Then I found out that Serenya—my daughter from Eveline—knew about the baby swap. That she’d been helping Amara for over two years."
His voice cracked.
"He blackmailed with that. Threatened to expose Serenya’s involvent, to destroy her future, unless I cooperated. So I did. I destroyed both my daughters because I was too weak to stand up to my father."
Edmund broke down, shoulders shaking with sobs he’d apparently been holding back for days. Wu, with unexpected compassion, handed him a handkerchief.
Edmund wiped his face, then turned to Kael and Wu with eyes red but clearer.
"You know, I don’t bla that girl. Mara. She’s truly the most innocent in all of this, and she had every right to demand justice." His voice took on the plaintive quality of a child asking an impossible question. "I just don’t understand where everything went so horribly wrong? I just wanted a life with the woman I loved. Why was that so wrong?"
Kael’s mind raced through implications, assembling pieces that didn’t quite fit together.
Edmund only learned about the Seer abilities twelve days ago. But Garrick had known for eight years—since Amara was nine.
That was... strange. Seers couldn’t control when and where they received visions. Surely in eight years, Amara should have had at least one vision in front of her own father. Unless she’d been deliberately hiding them from everyone except Garrick.
Or unless she wasn’t actually having visions at all.
Then Kael rembered what the broken Seer had scread at Amara. Why did you co back?
Co back. Co back from what? From where?
"What was Amara like when she was a child?" Kael asked abruptly. "Before the age of nine."
Edmund’s expression softened with reminiscence, so of the terrible weight lifting as he recalled happier tis.
"She was a bright, clever little girl. A bit haughty, but that’s typical for rchant children raised with privilege. Always climbing trees, getting into trouble." Despite everything, Edmund’s voice carried genuine fondness. "Playing pranks on the maids—harmless things, making them think their laundry had been stolen when she’d actually hung it in ridiculous places. She’d hide in the kitchen and rearrange the spice jars just to watch the cook’s confusion."
He smiled faintly at the mory.
"She was cheerful. Full of life. The kind of child who’d befriend anyone regardless of status—drove my father mad when she’d bring servant children into the main house to play. She loved stories about heroes and adventure, would act out elaborate gas where she was saving kingdoms." The smile faded. "A fun-loving, slightly naughty little girl who made everyone around her smile."
"When did she change?" Kael asked quietly.
Edmund’s expression clouded. "It was around the ti I was going to marry Selene. When I first told her, she was furious. Scread at that she didn’t want a stepmother. That stepmothers hated stepchildren—she’d heard bad stories about how stepmothers hurt their stepchildren. Threw a right hissy fit."
He paused, old confusion resurfacing.
"At that ti, I was torn between my daughter and Selene. Especially since I knew Amara was actually Selene’s biological daughter, but I couldn’t tell her that. The situation felt impossible."
"But then," Edmund continued, voice taking on an odd quality, "a couple days later, Amara ca to . Told she was happy I was marrying Selene. That she’d finally have a real mother."
He shook his head slowly.
"I was confused but relieved she’d changed her mind. Except..."
He trailed off, staring at nothing.
"She seed to have grown up overnight. Insisted on wearing proper silk dresses instead of the comfortable clothes she’d always preferred. No longer played with the servant children—said they were beneath her. Beca very interested in learning etiquette, especially royal and noble etiquette."
Edmund’s hands clenched on the table.
"But it was also around that ti that I noticed Amara seed to prefer spending ti with my father. The two of them would have private conversations in his study. Hours locked away together. And that’s when his attitude toward her changed, too."
"Changed how?" Wu prompted.
"Before, he didn’t treat her specially at all. She was just a girl who’d be married off to create a business alliance soday. At that ti, Father had been training my sons, testing which would be made heir to the Brenner enterprises." Edmund’s voice grew hollow. "But soon after I married Selene, Father seed to elevate Amara above everyone else."
He recounted details he’d apparently never questioned deeply until now.
"They were always together. Father arranged secret guards for her. Increased her stipend nearly tenfold. Started arranging all sorts of courses and training—different languages, protocols, music, dance, flower arranging, sewing, embroidery, painting, sketching, politics, diplomacy, modeling, makeup... you na it."
He gave a short, bitter laugh.
"You’d think we were educating an ancient empress..."
The words died in his throat as he looked at Kael. Really looked at him. Understanding dawning with horrifying clarity.
"No," Edmund whispered. "Don’t tell they were planning this nearly eight years ago..."
Silence fell like a guillotine blade.
Edmund stared at nothing, seeing his entire life from a new perspective. "I only ever saw the tip of the iceberg. My own father had grander plans and sches than I ever imagined. And I, Edmund Brenner, who was supposed to be the true heir, knew nothing about it."
His voice broke.
"What did that say about how Father viewed ?"
Kael stood abruptly. Edmund knew nothing useful. Nothing that would help verify what Amara actually was or what forces she’d been serving.
He needed to speak with Garrick Brenner. And Serenya Long. Those two apparently knew far more about Amara than anyone else.
As Kael moved toward the door, Edmund looked up. His voice ca out small, vulnerable in a way that made him seem twenty years younger.
"Commissioner Wu... my wife. How is she?"
Wu’s expression softened fractionally. Whatever else Edmund was, his love for Selene appeared genuine.
"Selene is fine," Wu said with unexpected compassion. "A lot of things have been revealed during the investigation that will help mitigate her sentence. She’s been asking to see you."
Edmund looked genuinely shocked. "She... asked to see ?"
He wasn’t stupid. He knew Selene had never truly loved him. The surprise in his voice made it clear he’d expected her to forget about him entirely once imprisoned.
"We’ve approved visitation rights," Wu continued. "She’ll be allowed to visit you later today."
Sothing like hope flickered in Edmund’s eyes. Brief. Fragile. Probably dood.
But real nonetheless.
***
Kael and Wu left the interrogation room in silence. Once the door closed behind them, Wu spoke.
"You’re going to see Garrick Brenner next."
It wasn’t a question.
Kael nodded grimly.
"I’m coming with you," Wu said with flat finality.
"Commissioner, I appreciate your assistance, but—"
"You don’t think this is a simple case of a girl pretending to be a Seer, do you?" Wu interrupted. His voice carried weight of knowledge Kael hadn’t expected him to possess. "Surely you’ve read the SIS briefings. How the Order of the Eternal Whisper has been growing in power. How there’ve been many more cases of Shadow Whisperers being found—killed by the Shrouded Eclipse Veil Hunters."
Kael went very still.
Wu continued relentlessly. "These Shadow Whisperers carry the marks. The crown sigils on their feet." His expression hardened. "While most disagree with the Shrouded Eclipse’s thods—their beliefs are radical, brutal even—you have to admit they’re trying to protect Ascara. Just like the Radiant Veil, except where the priests of the Radiant Veil have their hands tied by benevolence, the Shrouded Eclipse are the hunters. The executioners."
His voice dropped.
"But at least both religions believe in the Codex. Believe in the Light. Unlike the Order of the Eternal Whisper, who worship the dark. Who believe all light needs to be devoured."
Kael stopped abruptly. Turned to stare at Wu, shaken to his core.
"You don’t believe Amara is part of the Order of the Eternal Whisper, do you?"
The question ca out desperate. Pleading.
Because if that was true...
***
The Order of the Eternal Whisper represented everything that stood opposed to the Light itself. They were the antithesis of everything the Codex taught, everything civilization was built upon.
Nearly every person in Ascara participated in the Emberwalk ritual on their sixteenth birthday. The sacred ceremony where barefoot pilgrims crossed a thirty-ter bed of coals fueled by Saint Auren’s Emberblood. Those who erged unburnt received a fire-rune tattoo on their left ankle—proof of being "Veil-touched," of having the Light’s favor.
Cultivators could cheat with qi, using spiritual energy to protect their feet. But commoners had no such advantages. They walked on faith alone, and the Light either acknowledged them, or it didn’t.
The ceremony was more than ritual. It was a public profession of devotion to the Light, a sworn oath to uphold the Codex. Nearly everyone bore the mark.
Except...
Horror crashed over Kael like a tidal wave.
Amara hadn’t attended the last Midsumr Blaze festival. It had been the year she was supposed to undergo the Emberwalk ritual. She’d been ill at the ti—or so she’d claid.
Kael still rembered how devastated she’d appeared. How he’d spent hours consoling her, holding her while she wept about missing the sacred ceremony. Promising her that the Light would understand, that her devotion was no less real for missing one ritual.
And of course, she would miss this year’s upcoming festival too. Due to her pregnancy.
The realization hit with crushing force.
Amara had never taken the Emberwalk. Had never received the fire-rune tattoo. Had never publicly sworn the oath to uphold the Light.
If she was part of—or worse, one with—the Order of the Eternal Whisper...
This was a cri against the Light itself. The pure evilness of it made his mind shudder away from the implications.
This could damn his own soul. The blood oath bound him to her across multiple planes of existence. If she was corrupted by forces that opposed the Codex itself, that corruption could spread to him through their cosmic connection.
No. He couldn’t panic. Not now.
Truth, he told himself desperately. Find out the truth first.
Wu, watching Kael’s devastation unfold, felt sothing uncomfortably close to pity for the young man.
"Let’s go," Wu said quietly. "We need to ask Old Man Garrick just what the hell his granddaughter is. And just what the hell they’ve done."
Kael, still sowhat dazed, followed Wu out of the station.
In his shock, he’d completely forgotten he’d wanted to speak to Garrick Brenner alone.
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