Within an hour, all seven were assembled in the compound's central courtyard. A crowd had gathered—the bound Forsaken drawing close with expressions ranging from anger to betrayal, while the unbound refugees hung back, uncertain whether this tribunal would stop at seven.

The priestess approached Azrael before he could address the assembly. "What are you planning?"

"A trial."

"Don't do this. Not publicly. Not with emotions this high."

"They need to see justice. Real justice, not mercy or ...