Chapter 34 Prefect Arclight
Warden Voss
Night had already swallowed the city when the knock came.
It was not timid. Not hesitant.
Three firm raps against the heavy oak door of my tower chamber.
I did not turn from the window.
“Enter.”
The hinges groaned softly as the door opened. Cold air slipped inside first, carrying the scent of smoke, rain, and the marketplace after dark.
Darrick stepped in.
Behind him stood two children.
A boy and a girl. Siblings, unmistakably. Both had ash-blonde hair, pale brows, and wary brown eyes that darted across the tower’s shelves and floating candles. Their hands were locked together so tightly, fingers laced so hard their knuckles had blanched.
They had been scrubbed clean, just as I had instructed.
Their skin glowed pink from overzealous washing. The girl wore a simple white dress—fresh linen, modest, carefully tied at the waist. The boy wore a crisp white tunic tucked into brown shorts. Their hair, still damp, clung to their temples.
They looked presentable. Refined. Almost as if they belonged to someone.
“Saw these two runts causing trouble at the stalls,” Darrick said, closing the door behind him with his heel. His boots echoed against the stone floor as he guided them forward. “Quick hands. Quick feet. Asked around. They’re orphans.”
He approached my desk, took out the two pouches of coins I had given him earlier for the children and placed them on my desk.
“Scrubbed clean at the bath house, clothes provided. Fed them bread and chicken. I just promised Carlotta a waive of taxes for the trouble.”
I turned then.
I studied the children in silence before allowing myself a small nod.
“Good,” I said evenly. “Arclight will be pleased.”
The children flinched at the sound of my voice.
Darrick crossed his arms. “Warden, why are the Enforcers taking boys?”
I did not look at him.
“I have a group of boys who provide me information from time to time,” he continued. “Hiding in the sewers. They’re scared.”
“Aetheria needs laborers,” I replied, tight-lipped.
“All the same age as Lio Bale?” Darrick’s gaze sharpened. “Magnus thinks we’re hiding Lio, doesn’t he?”
“Not your concern,” I said calmly. “I will take care of it myself."
Whether that meant stopping Magnus’s suspicion—or stopping the boys from being taken—was not something Darrick needed clarified.
“Now go. I need to see the Spark Prefect.”
A smirk curled at the edge of his mouth. “As you command, Warden.”
He opened the door and left the way he came.
The latch clicked shut.
Silence returned.
Only the sound of the children’s breathing disturbed the stillness.
They stood near the center of the chamber, rigid and uncertain.
I approached them.
They recoiled instinctively.
With a flick of my wrist, I conjured two large lollipops—swirls of amber and cream. A faint shimmer of harmless magic made them gleam invitingly.
The fear in their eyes shifted almost instantly into longing.
“Take hold of my coat,” I said gently, lowering myself slightly so my voice did not echo above them, “and these are yours.”
The boy reached first. His small hand clutched the fabric of my coat while the other grabbed the lollipop. The girl followed without hesitation.
Hunger was far easier to manage than terror.
I touched the orb resting at my collarbone.
The world folded inward.
The tower dissolved into streaks of light.
When the air steadied again, we stood inside the grand lobby of the Spark Palace.
Gold dominated everything.
The floor gleamed so brightly it reflected the massive chandelier suspended from the domed ceiling above us. The dome itself was made of glass reinforced by intricate metal ribs, allowing the night sky to loom darkly overhead while hundreds of candles burned in disciplined formation, casting relentless light across the chamber.
The walls were adorned with portraits of Lucien Arclight in various stages of grandeur. In some, he appeared almost ordinary—seated at a table, slicing fruit, reviewing ledgers. In others, the cruelty was unmistakable. Women knelt before him, backs bloodied, their faces turned upward in painted agony while he stood above them immaculate and composed.
Spark District reflected its ruler. The population held far more men than women. The women who remained were either family, wealthy enough to be shielded, or profitable enough to be spared.
“Warden Voss.”
The voice descended before the man did.
I turned toward the grand staircase as Lucien Arclight began his measured descent.
He wore white robes trimmed with gold thread, the fabric draping perfectly from his tall frame. A delicate golden tiara rested against his dark hair. His posture was flawless, his movements unhurried, deliberate.
His face bore a smile. It did not touch his eyes.
His caramel gaze was clear and sharp, devoid of warmth or impatience. He looked at people the way one evaluated tools—useful, flawed, replaceable.
“What an unexpected pleasure,” he said as he reached the final step. His tone was smooth, cultured, entirely controlled. “To what do I owe this visit?”
His eyes shifted to the children.
He did not bend down. He did not soften his expression. He did not speak to them.
“And you bring gifts."
He lifted his hand and moved his fingers slightly. A small golden bell attached to one of his rings chimed softly.
From the edges of the chamber, eunuchs emerged without a sound.
They approached the children.
The girl’s grip tightened around her lollipop. The boy swallowed hard but did not resist as they were lifted away.
Arclight’s attention had already returned to me.
He gestured toward the seating area, where white cushions surrounded a low gilded table.
“Please,” he said. “Sit.”
It was not a request.
Lucien Arclight did not wait to see whether I obeyed.
He turned smoothly and walked toward the seating area as though my compliance had already been decided. The eunuchs had vanished with the children through a side corridor draped in white silk.
I crossed the polished floor and lowered myself onto one of the plush white cushions. The fabric sank beneath my weight, deceptively soft, as though this palace wished to convince its guests they were safe.
Arclight settled opposite me at first, arranging his robes with precise fingers before leaning back with relaxed elegance.
A servant approached immediately with a tray of crystal goblets and a slender bottle. The glass was etched with silver vines; the liquid within shimmered darkly in the candlelight.
“Kingdom of Lunara,” Arclight said, watching the wine pour into my glass. “Their vineyards cling to cliffs above the sea. The salt air gives it a sharper finish.”
He lifted his goblet but did not drink yet. Instead, he studied me over the rim.
“I reserve it for company I find… worthwhile.”
I inclined my head slightly in acknowledgment but did not raise the glass.
He noticed.
His smile remained, but something behind his eyes cooled further.
“So,” he continued, as though we were discussing the weather, “what does the Dust Warden of Aetherion seek in my district at this hour?”
“I am looking for a girl,” I said evenly. “Red hair. Green eyes. She is wanted in connection to a disappearance.”
His gaze sharpened, just enough to unsettle me.
This wasn't going to be easy.