SPIRITBINDER: The Boy Without A Mark
Chapter 93: The Division

Chapter 93: The Division

Morvane’s voice echoed through the chamber, cutting through the tense silence. His dark eyes burned with frustration as he faced Levan, whose stern expression carried the weight of centuries.

"How am I a threat?" Morvane demanded, his voice edged with disbelief. "Why are you suddenly painting me as a villain?"

Levan’s jaw tensed, his weathered face devoid of warmth. "Your bond with a demon was already ominous," Levan stated firmly, his voice steady with authority. "But now you’ve gathered an angel’s power as well." He paused, eyes narrowing with unease. "This... this is a combination that disturbs the balance of the realms."

A heavy silence hung in the air. Morvane clenched his fists, feeling the weight of the accusation. His breath grew heavier as emotions warred within him.

"Disturbs the balance?" he spat, his voice rising with indignation. "I’ve fought harder than anyone to protect what matters. I didn’t ask for these powers—they were forced on me by circumstances! I never sought this chaos."

Levan’s gaze didn’t waver. "Intentions matter little when your existence itself becomes a threat. The fusion of demon and angelic power has never happened before. No one knows what that might unleash."

"Then guide me," Morvane pleaded, his voice raw. "Don’t condemn me for something I never chose."

Levan shook his head. "Some paths, once taken, cannot be undone. Others will not see your intentions—they will only see the danger."

Before Morvane could respond, Vianna’s voice cut through the tension, smooth yet commanding. "Enough."

The queen of Nirvath stepped forward, her purple hair glinting in the torchlight. Her presence was magnetic, drawing all eyes to her. "We cannot tear ourselves apart when the true enemies lurk in shadows," she said. "This division will only serve to weaken us."

Morvane’s heart ached, torn between rage and despair. "And what happens now, Levan?" he challenged. "Will you be the one to strike me down, then?"

Levan’s expression darkened. "If it comes to that... I hope it doesn’t."

Morvane’s chest heaved, but he swallowed his next words. He knew this conversation was far from over. The seeds of doubt had already been planted, and it was only a matter of time before they grew into something far more dangerous.

The air was thick with tension as Morvane’s chest heaved from the weight of Levan’s accusations. Before he could retort, a deep, commanding voice echoed through the hall.

Deus stepped forward, his presence as imposing as ever. "We can’t just sit back and let things unfold in Baltalaha," he said firmly. "If we do nothing, all Baltalahan will suffer. We need to act."

He turned to Medas, whose expression remained unreadable. "Medas, what are your thoughts?"

The wise old man stroked his beard, eyes filled with contemplation. Before he could speak, Ikana interjected, her voice measured and coldly practical.

"With what’s happening, my stance is clear," Ikana said. "The protection and safety of the majority must come first. For that reason, I believe we must thoroughly study this young boy’s power. His abilities are unprecedented and potentially dangerous."

Morvane tensed at her words, feeling the weight of suspicion pressing down on him. But before he could defend himself, Crimson’s voice rang out, sharp and resolute.

"It’s not his fault that he has this power," Crimson said, his gaze unwavering. "We just need to lead him, guide him in the right direction."

A scoff broke the moment. Dergo, with his muscular frame and hardened expression, crossed his arms. "We don’t blame him for having power," he said, his voice gruff. "We blame him for his choices."

The room fell into a heavy silence as Dergo’s words sank in. "He killed two people and gathered their power," he continued, his tone filled with reproach. "The kid who could already manifest bad things happening—and now an angel? That’s a recipe for disaster."

Morvane’s heart sank. He knew he had made mistakes, but the condemnation in Dergo’s voice was a weight he wasn’t sure he could bear.

Deus’s voice cut through the silence, filled with a grim understanding. "Dergo’s right," he admitted reluctantly. "What if this kid kills more? That would disturb the balance and anger the gods even more."

Morvane’s breath caught in his throat. He had fought so hard to protect others, yet here he was—judged and feared by those who were supposed to stand beside him.

But as despair threatened to consume him, a flicker of resolve sparked within. If they couldn’t see who he truly was, then he would have to prove it. Even if it meant standing alone.

The place was thick with tension, and Morvane’s breath was heavy as the weight of accusations pressed down on him. Levan stood unflinchingly amidst the turmoil, his voice calm but resolute.

"My thoughts are clear," Levan declared. "I will protect my kingdom, regardless of what I must do."

Medas frowned, his voice laced with curiosity. "What do you mean?"

Levan’s response was chilling. "Even if that means killing someone who poses a risk."

Gasps rippled through the chamber, disbelief written on the faces of everyone present. The weight of his words stunned the room into silence.

Medas’s voice trembled with anger. "Levan, you are the oldest and wisest among us, yet you’re the one proposing to kill a child?"

Levan’s expression didn’t falter. "I wasn’t proposing," he clarified calmly. "I’m giving my honest opinion, which you can agree or disagree with. But if we can’t kill him, we should at least hide or imprison him—prevent him from killing anyone else and stealing their power."

Crimson’s voice rose in protest. "He’s only a—"

Morvane cut him off sharply, his voice filled with raw emotion. "King Levan, I know my power intrigues and frightens you," he said, his tone steady but strained. "But I didn’t want any of this either. It’s overwhelming for me too. And I didn’t directly kill Drace or Meira."

Deus’s voice was harsh. "But they died by your hand."

Morvane’s gaze was fierce. "Both times, Drevon—my demon—possessed me. I wasn’t conscious when they were killed. So technically, I didn’t kill them."

Ikana’s eyes glinted with cold logic. "That only makes it worse," she said icily. "If your demon can control you and do things you don’t want, what stops it from trying to kill us next?"

The weight of her words pressed on everyone, and silence settled over the room. Morvane’s heart pounded as he faced their doubts and accusations. The truth was undeniable—his powers were a double-edged sword, one he had yet to master.

But one thing was clear: they no longer saw him as one of their own. He was a danger to them—a risk they might not be willing to take. And if he didn’t find a way to control his power, their fears might very well become a grim reality.

The oppressive tension in the hall was suddenly shattered by a shadow curling into existence at the room’s edge. From within the darkness emerged Drevon, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. His presence was as unsettling as it was commanding, and a cold chill swept through the room.

Levan, Ikana, Deus, and Dergo instinctively stepped back, their expressions betraying a rare flicker of fear.

Without hesitation, Deus lunged forward, his fist crackling with energy. "Stay back, demon!"

But Drevon moved with effortless speed, his body a blur as he dodged the attack with a mocking grin. "Oh, easy, easy, my guys," Drevon drawled, his tone dripping with playful arrogance.

Levan’s face darkened with outrage. "You—how dare you call us ’guys’! We are rulers!"

Drevon rolled his eyes dramatically. "Okay, kings and queens, whatever," he said, waving dismissively. "I just popped in because I’ve been hearing my name tossed around this little convo." He arched a brow. "Are y’all gossiping about me?"

Ikana’s lips curled into a scowl. "Gossip? We’re discussing the threat you pose."

Drevon grinned wider, revealing sharp teeth. "Threat? Me? I’m a harmless, charming presence." He placed a hand over his chest mockingly. "I’m practically a public service at this point."

Dergo growled, stepping forward. "You’re a demon who possesses a child and kills without conscience."

Drevon’s smile didn’t falter. "Whoa, whoa. Possession is such a loaded term. I like to think of it as... strategic collaboration." He leaned closer, eyes gleaming. "And I don’t kill just anyone."

Morvane’s fists clenched. "Drevon, enough."

Drevon sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. But seriously, y’all should be thanking me. Without me, Morvane wouldn’t have survived half the messes you’ve dragged him into."

His words hung in the air, daring anyone to refute them. The room fell into uneasy silence as rulers and allies alike grappled with the undeniable truth: Drevon was both a curse and a twisted form of salvation. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

The weight of Drevon’s presence lingered heavily in the chamber, but Levan’s voice cut through the tension, steady and resolute.

"We are rulers," Levan declared, his gaze sweeping over everyone in the room. "And it is our duty to protect our kingdoms. We must come up with a decision—now."

The place grew quiet, the gravity of his words sinking in.

Levan took a deep breath, his expression hardened. "To those who agree with me," he continued, "should we kill or imprison Morvane to protect our realms, raise your hand."

The silence was deafening.

Morvane’s heart pounded in his chest as he looked around the room. His throat tightened, but he forced himself to stay composed. He could see the conflict in some of their eyes—loyalty, fear, and doubt all warring within them.

Ikana’s gaze was cold and calculating, as if already leaning toward the most logical conclusion. Dergo’s fists clenched at his sides, his face grim. Deus looked torn, his mouth set in a tight line. Medas’s brow furrowed, a flicker of sadness shadowing his wise eyes.

Crimson, standing defiantly near Morvane, shook his head. "This is madness," Crimson said firmly. "He’s only a boy—our responsibility is to guide him, not destroy him."

Morvane clenched his jaw, his voice low but fierce. "If you think imprisoning or killing me will solve everything, you’re wrong." He met Levan’s unyielding gaze. "I never chose this power, but I’ll learn to control it. With or without your approval."

Drevon leaned against the wall, grinning. "Well, this is getting spicy. Who’s gonna raise their hand, huh? Let’s see where the loyalty lies."

The place remained still, each ruler grappling with their decision. A vote that could define Morvane’s fate hung in the balance.