Her ancient eyes widen further.
"A definition of eternal power reigning upon the destined throne."
My voice carries the particular satisfaction of puzzles finally solved.
"Elena was a shortened form," I explain, building the case that destroys her facade. "And it got me wondering. Eleanor as a male... and Eternalis as a female."
I meet her gaze with the sharpness of someone who has seen through deception that others missed.
"Could they be two sides of one coin?"
The silence that follows is broken by screeching.
Professor Eternalis—or whatever her true name is—moves back with sudden violence, retreating from the invisible barrier as a larger splash of lava falls from the converging walls above. The molten rock lands on her shoulder, burning through ancient flesh with the particular violence of elements that don't discriminate between powerful and powerless.
She glares at me.
Fury burning in eyes that have been pretending calm for far too long.
I take a single step forward.
The motion carries the particular confidence of someone who has decided to deliver their final argument—allowing Damien to release me from his protective grip, standing firmly on words that will seal her fate.
"It all makes sense."
The declaration lands with the weight of conclusions that explain everything.
"For how would Elena know what I’m doing?" I ask, rhetorical questions building the case against her. "Where am I? How am I progressing?"
My voice hardens.
"Or dare try to hurt my men without an informant?"
I let the accusation settle.
"The only one who was at every step of the way..."
I meet her gaze with the particular intensity of someone delivering judgment.
"Was you, Professor."
Her ancient features shift through expressions that might be denial, might be calculation, might be the desperate search for arguments that could counter what I'm presenting.
"And despite being a figure of knowledge," I continue, "not once have you truly tried tohelpus."
The observation lands with accuracy that makes her flinch.
"Never gave us enough information to succeed," I press. "Just enough to reach the next trial."
I let my contempt show.
"Why would I need someone like that in the academy I wish to unravel to the world?"
My voice carries the particular dismissal of someone who has weighed another's value and found them wanting.
"You'd be rather useless."
She rushes to the wall.
