The consequences of their actions had become undeniable.
The Violet Moon cast its malevolent gaze upon the land, rising and rising again with each passing week. The Dungeons of Despair continued to vomit forth their horrors every fifth day a regular, scheduled terror that the armies of the Ten Kingdoms could barely contain. The Plague spread through the southern kingdoms, a violet rash that crept across skin like frost, a cold that no fire could warm.
The populace, reeling from the inexplicable dual-calamity, looked for answers. The initial confusion curdled into a low, simmering fear, and that fear began to seek a target. Whispers turned into questions shouted at city guards and local officials. Angry crowds gathered in town squares, demanding explanations from any authority figure who would face them.
"Why is this happening?"
"What are the High Mages doing?"
"Who is responsible for this?"
Panic set in among the Architects. Their grand ambition had curdled into a world-ending catastrophe, and the blame was inching perilously close to their door. They needed to control the narrative. They needed to redirect the rising tide of fury before it washed them all away.
In a secret conclave held in a chamber still stained with the silvery residue of the Grim's lifeblood, Archmage Kaelen laid out their only path to survival.
"The world seeks a cause for its suffering," he declared, his voice cold and pragmatic. "We must give them one they can comprehend. We did not break the world we fought a malevolent cosmic entity, a 'Grim Reaper' who sought to end all life. Its final, vengeful curse is what assails us now. But a new evil has arisen to carry on its work."
He gestured to the reports scattered across the table transcripts of Eldric's ravings, sketches based on Ophira's descriptions of the marked children, fragments of frightened testimony from midwives who had delivered strange-eyed infants.
"We have the foundation of our story. Eldric, the All-Seeing, foresaw this. His visions, which we now understand, warned of children marked by the Grim's power. Ophira has confirmed it. These children are not victims of the curse they are its agents. They are the Grim's spawn, left behind to finish what their master started."
He leaned forward, his scarred hands flat on the stone table.
"The world is terrified. Terrified people do not want complex truths. They want simple stories. Heroes. Villains. A clear enemy and a clear solution. We will give them that. We will give them a war they can understand and a victory they can achieve."
"And the children?" Lyra asked, her voice barely audible.
Kaelen did not look at her.
"The children," he said, "are the enemy. That is the official truth. And by the time anyone questions it, there will be no one left to question."