The grand trial room towered over Nailah like a place of judgment. Rows of nobles sat in their seats, whispering to each other, while the judge stood at the front, his gavel ready in hand. Nailah sat at the defendant’s bench, her fists clenched tightly in her lap. Her lawyer sat next to her, his face unreadable.

The sharp crack of the judge’s gavel striking the surface echoed through the hall. Silence followed.

“For the charges of murder, deviancy, and treason against the aristocracy,” the judge announced, his voice firm and unwavering, “I find the defendant, Nailah Pristine…”

A pause. The air grew thick with tension. Nailah caught her breath.

“Guilty!” the judge roared.

Gasps and whispers filled the courtroom. Some nobles muttered in shock, while others were clearly intrigued.

“She really murdered him,” one aristocrat muttered.

“Nobody has committed such crimes since the Robbing Hood, twenty years ago,” another chimed in.

A third scoffed, voice laced with disgust. “That’s why you shouldn’t get involved with people from the Lowlands. They’re all criminals.”

Nailah barely heard them. Her vision blurred as her eyes filled with tears. Her body felt cold, frozen in place. This couldn’t be happening.

The judge’s next words sealed her fate. “She is to be stripped of her noble status and sentenced to death.”

Nailah’s world shattered. The knights stepped forward, gripping her arms and dragging her away. She hardly resisted, her body moving on its own. Her family sat in the audience, their faces twisted with anger, but none spoke up for her.

Her mind went blank.

It’s over for me.

The Skyland Prison loomed like a giant against the sky, its high walls trapping the condemned inside. A cold hallway with rows of cells stretched before Nailah as the Bronze Knights dragged her along. They opened a rusted cell door and threw her inside without a second thought.

“Get in there, murderer,” one of the knights spat, locking the door behind her. “You’ll be here until your execution.”

She barely registered their words as she curled into herself, her knees drawn to her chest. The silence of the cell surrounded her, pressing in like an invisible force. Then, a voice shattered the stillness.

“What did you do?”

Startled, she looked up. In the next cell, a woman with sharp eyes and an amused expression leaned against the bars.

“I didn’t do anything,” Nailah whispered, voice hoarse.

The woman scoffed. “Don’t bullshit me. Every inmate here is on death row. You must’ve done something awful.”

“I swear, I’m innocent!” Nailah insisted.

The woman pouted, feigning disappointment. “If you don’t wanna tell me, just say so.”

Days blended together in a constant cycle of hopelessness. Then, one day, a Bronze Knight appeared at her cell.

“Nailah Pristine, you have a visitor.”

Hope flickered in her chest. Could it be good news?

She was led to a visitation booth, where Gawain sat waiting. The sight of him brought a rare smile to her face as she picked up the phone on her side of the glass.

“Gawain! I’m happy to see you!”

“Me too,” he replied, though concern shadowed his features. “Is everything okay in there?”

She nodded quickly. “Yes, for now. Do you know how things are going with my case?”

Gawain’s expression darkened. He hesitated before answering, “It’s bad, Nailah. Your lawyer tried to appeal, but… no luck.”

The smile faded from her lips. “It can’t be…”

“Don’t give up yet,” Gawain urged, determination burning in his eyes. “I’ll do everything I can to clear your name. Believe me.”

She wanted to believe him. She really did, but she couldn’t see any way that justice would favor someone like her, a Lowlander.

Three months passed. Nailah sat in her cell, staring at the cold stone walls when movement caught her eye. Across the hall, Ursula, her cellmate from before, was being escorted away by knights. The woman smirked at her.

“See you in hell, kid.”

Nailah clenched her fists. “You…”

Before she could say more, another knight appeared.

“You! Come with me.”

Panic surged in her chest. “Wait! My execution isn’t for another month!”

“Calm down. You’ve got a visitor.”

Relief and dread mixed as she was led away again. But when she saw who was waiting, her stomach dropped.

Mrs. Pristine.

Her adoptive mother sat across the glass, her cold eyes locked on Nailah. Swallowing her emotions, Nailah picked up the phone, forcing a shaky smile.

“Mother! I was hoping you—”

“Don’t call me that,” Mrs. Pristine snapped.

Nailah’s breath caught in her throat. “You… don’t believe them, do you?”

"I saw the police report," her mother said, fury in every word. "There’s no doubt. Just tell me why."
Anger surged inside Nailah. "All my life, I knew you hated me. You always favored your real sons! But Father, he was the only one who didn’t. Why would I ever hurt him?!"

Mrs. Pristine’s lips twisted in disgust. "Because you're a filthy, disgusting Lowlander! Violence runs in your blood! I told him not to adopt you, but he wouldn’t listen. And now he’s dead."

The words cut deeper than any blade. Tears slipped down Nailah’s cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away. Without saying another word, she stood up and hung up the phone.

"I’m done here."

She turned away, walking back to her cell, her mother’s voice shouting behind her.

"Get back here, you lowlife! We’re not done!"

The cell door slammed shut behind her, locking her away again. She collapsed onto the floor, her shoulders shaking. Unable to hold back any longer, she buried her face in her hands, sobbing softly into the darkness.

“Please, Lord… Give me another chance. I promise I’ll be the obedient woman everyone wants me to be… Please…”

One month later, the prison halls stood eerily empty. One by one, the other inmates had been executed, leaving Nailah the sole occupant.

"It’s time," a Bronze Knight announced.

She didn’t react. What was there to react to? Her fate had been sealed long ago.

The pyre stood at the heart of the execution grounds. The crowd was massive—nobles, knights, and commoners alike had come to witness her demise. The executioner stepped forward, torch in hand.

Gawain's fists clenched at his sides as he watched Nailah, bound and disheartened, standing before the pyre. The fire hadn't been lit yet, but the weight of its inevitability pressed down on him.

"I can't let this happen!" he muttered under his breath, his hand moving toward the hilt of his sword.

Before he could draw, a firm grip settled over his own.

"Agravaine...!" His voice wavered.

Agravaine’s expression remained unreadable, but his piercing gaze spoke volumes. "What are you doing, Gawain?"

The younger knight swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. "I have to save her," he said, voice thick with desperation. "She’s being wrongfully sentenced to death!"

Agravaine exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "That’s not what the evidence and the judge ruled," he said. "You see, every criminal has someone who has an unwavering belief in their innocence. It could be family, a lover, or a friend such as you, unfortunately, it is purely out of emotion and completely unfounded. Now, imagine if every knight decided to act of their own accord every time they believed that their close ones were falsely accused, where would the justice be?”

Agravaine noticed his brother’s determination wavering and added a final push to make him see the hard truth. “Even if you were right, what exactly do you plan to do? You’re a mere Bronze Knight. Do you think you stand a chance against the Silver and Gold Knights standing guard?"

Gawain opened his mouth but hesitated. His grip on his sword tightened, then loosened again. "I… I…" His words trailed off, the weight of reality settling onto his shoulders.

Agravaine took a step closer, his voice dropping into something colder, something sharper. "And more importantly," he said, his gaze locking onto Gawain’s, "what will you do against me?"

Gawain stiffened.

"I will not allow you to interfere with justice," Agravaine continued. "And I will not allow you to disgrace our family name. If you go through with this, I shall be your executionner."

A heavy silence fell between them.

Agravaine’s voice lowered to a near whisper, but the authority in it was absolute.

"Stop acting like a hero. Sheathe your sword and watch the execution in silence."

Gawain stood frozen, his hands trembling at his sides. Nailah stood on the brink of death. And yet, he, her friend, the one who swore to do what was right remained powerless.

"Skyland has sheltered a Lowlander deviant for too long! She has murdered one of our land’s pillars, disrupting its prosperity. And for that, she will pay with her life!" His voice boomed across the square. "If you have any last words, speak now."

Nailah barely registered his words. But as she scanned the crowd, she caught sight of her family. Their eyes held only scorn.

I thought I was family… Why don’t you believe me?

Her gaze found Gawain. He looked at her, then turned away.

I thought we were friends… Why won’t you help me?

Something inside her snapped. Rage exploded within her like an unstoppable wildfire.

"All of you..." she whispered, then her voice rose, cutting through the room. "ALL OF YOU ARE TRASH!!"

The crowd shifted uneasily, the tension thickening in the air.

"THIS IS WHAT YOU'VE WANTED EVER SINCE I WAS ADOPTED! BUT I WON'T LET YOU WIN! I’LL SURVIVE THIS, AND I’LL COME FOR EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!" Her face twisted in fury, her words like a burning vow.

The executioner smirked. "No, you won’t."

He raised the torch.

And then…

A scream. Blood splattered across the wooden platform. The executioner staggered back, eyes wide in shock. His arm was gone.

A voice rang out. "Oh, you must be looking for this?"

Hope flared in Nailah’s chest as she turned her head. There stood Edward, her clumsy butler, a bloodstained sword in one hand and the severed limb in the other.

"Hands off, mate."

Edward swiftly dispatched the executioner, ending the threat with a clean strike before freeing Nailah from the pyre. With her limp form draped over his shoulder, he moved like a shadow, effortlessly slicing through the Bronze Knights blocking his path. He held back just enough to avoid fatal blows—he wasn't interested in killing these misguided youths.

Without hesitation, he seized a Horsomobile, tossing Nailah into the passenger seat as he gunned the engine and sped off, the scene of the pyre fading behind them.

As they were speeding off, they soon realized that the chase had only begun. Four knights on horcycles pursued them. Gold and Silver ranks. Important knights of the Order of the Laborious Bear.

Edward eyed their emblems. "Specialists in violent crimes, huh?"

He handed the reins to Nailah before leaving the vehicle to access its roof, ready to greet their unwanted guests. "I’ll let you drive. We’re heading to Skylands Station."

"I—I don’t know how…"

"Then learn fast, Mistress!"

Ahead, the four knights stood atop their horcycles, now on autopilot, weapons drawn and focused on their objective.

Thedric Minos. Henry Fleece. Pelegon. Botheus.

Thedric and Minos wore gleaming gold armor, while Pelegon and Botheus wore polished silver.

They were ready to kill.

Edward unsheathed his sword as he was standing on the roof of the horsomobile. The battle had just begun.