"We don't want protection from rejects!" Petra snaps. "We want the Council to actually control the situation instead of letting a child play at being Praestes!"
The insult lands hard, not just calling me a child, but implying I'm not really the Praestes. That Mother Nature made a mistake choosing me.
My mates' fury crackles against my awareness. Ambrose's contracts activate reflexively, green light flickering around him. But I hold up my hand, stopping him. This is my fight.
"I am the third Praestes, chosen by Mother Nature herself." My pink essence expands until it fills the entire chamber, making every Council member feel the weight of what I am. "And I will not apologize for freeing Magila from cages they didn't deserve to be in. Yes, there's violence. Yes, there's chaos. That's what happens when you dismantle oppression. The oppressors fight back. But the alternative is letting Dmitri's system continue, letting more students have their essence stripped, letting more unusual Magila be eliminated for the crime of existing."
I let that hang in the air for a moment, then continue with less heat. "But Councilwoman Petra raises a valid concern. We need better coordination, better protection for everyone targeted by Dmitri's loyalists. I propose we create a joint task force. Council members and Phoenix Sanctuary defenders working together to protect everyone at risk. Show the public that we're unified, that the reforms and the Council aren't enemies."
Eugene seizes on that immediately. "An excellent suggestion. I motion we vote on establishing this joint protection task force."
The vote passes, though not by as wide a margin as I'd like. Forty-nine in favor, thirty-seven against, fourteen abstentions.But it's something. A compromise that protects people while also forcing the Council and reformed academies to work together.
The session drags on for hours after that. We debate new security protocols, discuss how to handle the captured attackers from Phoenix Sanctuary's defense, argue about whether to accelerate or slow down the reform process. Every decision is a battle. Every compromise feels like giving up ground.
Councilwoman Terra, the water elemental who supported us during the first vote, proposes sending Council observers to each reformed academy. "To ensure standards are being maintained and students are actually being protected, not just radicalized."
The refusal rises in my throat. The implication that we're radicalizing students instead of educating them is insulting. But the mood in the chamber is palpable, fear driving even our allies to seek reassurance.
"Agreed," I say, swallowing my pride. "We welcome Council observers. Let them see firsthand what we're actually doing. Let them report back that our students are learning control, not rebellion."
More debates. More compromises. More of my Praestes energy draining away as I fight to hold onto everything we've built.
By the time Eugene finally calls an end to the session, I'm exhausted in ways I didn't know were possible. My projection flickers as I struggle to maintain it.
"This session is adjourned. The joint task force will be assembled within the week. Council observers will be dispatched to reformed academies within the month. And..." Eugene pauses, looking directly at my projection. "Praestes Bardot, the Council formally requests that you attend the next session in person. Virtual appearances are acceptable for emergencies, but your continued absence raises questions about your commitment to working with this body."
It's a trap and I know it. Leaving Phoenix Sanctuary means leaving my mates vulnerable, leaving our students without their Praestes protection. But refusing will make me look like I'm hiding something.
"I'll consider it," I say carefully. "The safety of Phoenix Sanctuary must remain my priority, but I understand the Council's concerns."
The moment my projection ends, I collapse back in my chair. The exhaustion hits all at once, my power flickering like a candle in a storm. I've been fully engaged for hours, and the drain is worse than anything I've experienced before.
Stellan catches me before I hit the floor, his fire wrapping around me, warming me back to stability. "You did great. You held your ground."
"I compromised on everything." The words drag out of me, weak and bitter. "Council observers. Joint task forces. In-person appearances. Every time I think we've won, they find new ways to claw back control."
"That's politics." Ambrose's voice is gentle despite his own exhaustion. "You didn't lose today, Skye. You survived. Sometimes that's all you can do."
Jade curls into my lap, his demon form still manifested, his purr vibrating through both of us. "The Council can send all the observers they want. Once they see what Phoenix Sanctuary actually is, they'll understand we're not the enemy."
"Or they'll find excuses to shut us down." Harlow's death-sight flickers, showing him futures I can't see. "There are timelines where the observers help us. And timelines where they destroy everything."
"Then we make sure we end up in the right timeline." Rumi's divine essence spreads over all of us, his balance power easing the anxiety that's been coiling tighter since the session started. "We've beaten worse odds than this."
Their determination bleeds into me, mixing with my exhaustion. They believe in me. Believe in us. Believe that we can actually change the world.
I want to share their confidence. But the weight of twenty dead students and faculty presses down on me, the knowledge that more attacks are coming, that Dmitri's followers won't stop until we're destroyed or they are.
"We need to talk about Liz," I say quietly, changing the subject to something that's been nagging at me since her apology at the ceremony. "Harlow, you said there were futures where she helps us and futures where she destroys everything. What did you see?"
Harlow's expression grows troubled. "The timelines involving her are... unstable. Shifting constantly. Like she hasn't decided yet which path to take. Or like someone else is influencing her decisions."
"Dmitri." Stellan's fire flickers with anger. "She's his daughter. He could be using her to spy on us, to find our weaknesses."
"Or she could genuinely want to change," Rumi counters. "People do change. Even people from terrible families."
"We watch her," I decide. "Carefully. Give her the chance to prove herself, but don't trust her with anything sensitive. If she's genuine, she'll understand the caution. If she's not..."
