Miguel was dragged by his collar by Zareth. He forced his feet to keep up with Zareth's quick pace, and he stumbled when the Lorekeeper made a sharp turn towards the spiral stairs leading up to the courtroom of the High Tower. When they got up the stairs, Zareth pushed Miguel into the courtroom. The grand chamber of the High Tower was filled with an oppressive silence, the dim neon lights casting a sickly glow over the crowd gathered to witness the sentencing.
Miguel was forced to stand in the center of the room, standing alone with his wrists shackled and his gaze defiant. He was surrounded by the nine bishops of DEMA—the High Council—perched on their elevated thrones, their dark figures looming like twisted gods in a temple of judgment.
Keons curled around his throne, his glowing yellow eyes fixed on Miguel, ready to pounce if commanded. Sacarver bared her teeth in a vicious grin, while Vetomo sat stone-faced, his massive arms crossed. Each one of them represented the very force that had kept DEMA under control for so long, their eyes burning with condemnation.
Lisden presided over the trial, his thin, skeletal wings tucked behind him as he gazed down from the highest perch. His sharp, predatory beak clacked once, a sound that echoed throughout the chamber. He lifted his long neck, addressing the assembly in a raspy voice.
"Clancy," Lisden began, the words dragging out slowly, like talons scraping stone. "You stand accused of treason. You defied the will of DEMA. You escaped our grasp, and in doing so, you invited rebellion. Your actions have destabilized the order we worked so tirelessly to maintain."
A murmur spread through the room, filled with low whispers of fear and curiosity from the onlookers. The trial was not only a sentencing—it was a message to the people of DEMA.
Miguel's heart raced, but he didn't flinch. His thoughts raced back to his family—his mother, his sisters, Lara. They were safe now, away from this nightmare, thanks to the Banditos. If his fate was sealed, at least it hadn't been in vain.
"I did what I had to do," Miguel spat, his voice raw but firm. "You enslave, you manipulate, you kill. DEMA is a cage. I wasn't going to rot in it like the rest of you!"
The council stirred. Keons let out a low, rumbling growl, and Sacarver's claws scratched at her seat in irritation. But it was Nico, the stag-bishop, who leaned forward with a serene but chilling voice. "You could have ruled with us, Clancy. You could have found power beyond your imagination. But you chose rebellion."
Miguel clenched his fists, his chains rattling. "I chose freedom."
Lisden tilted his head, a cruel smile spreading across his vulture-like face. "And now, you will face the consequences."
The crowd held its breath as Lisden stood, his wings spreading wide as he delivered the final verdict. "You, Clancy, will be made to atone for your crimes. Your body will no longer belong to you. You will be transformed, reshaped into one of us—a bishop of DEMA. The very thing you despised will become your reality. Your mind, your soul, will serve the High Council for eternity."
Miguel's blood ran cold. The weight of the sentence crushed down on him like a Skyreaver sitting on his chest. Turned into a bishop? Stripped of his humanity, his memories, his self?
"No," Miguel hissed, his voice rising in desperation. "You can't do that! I won't—"
"Silence!" Keons roared, his tiger-like form lunging forward, but stopped by a raised hand from Lisden.
The vulture-bishop's cold gaze never left Miguel. "Oh, we can. And we will. Your rebellion dies here, Clancy. You will serve DEMA. Forever."
YOU ARE READING
Only Skeletons Remain
Fanfiction"There will be Three, kin of your kin, who hold the power to reshape the world and defy the shadows." Only Skeletons Remain follows the intertwined stories of three generations bound by the oppressive grip of DEMA, a city of neon lights and despair...
