A Summons from the Crown
Evening settled over Fantom City as the first chimes drifted through the lanes, right when Videl reached the end of cleaning up after the assault.
Folks gathered close, drawn to the tight pathway where killers now lay still. Glowing lamps trembled overhead, their shine crawling over stones, catching slumped bodies tossed aside as if forgotten.
Videl stood calmly beside them.
A soft breeze tugged at her pale hair as twilight settled in. Light from lanterns flickered along each strand like sparks on water. The fabric of her white top hugged sharp shoulders and a lean waist. Black leather traced every curve from thigh to ankle. A blade lay still against her spine, its weight balanced and known.
Moments earlier, she had called over a patrol of nearby city guards.
"Take them," she told them simply.
Her voice carried no excitement—only quiet authority.
"These men attacked me. I incapacitated them. Question them if you want answers."
