Innovative ideas.
Heretical, perhaps, in the eyes of some.
Revolutionary.
Ifthey let her speak.
She ground her teeth together until they hurt. Fear wouldn’t help her now. Not when she’d already lost six months to preparations. And in those six months, Kailorien had been forced to endure Estâr. Had come to her after with shame in his eyes and a hollow emptiness in his heart. One that took immeasurable amounts of love and reassurance to erase.
Bolstered, she’d been rifling through research, notes, and theorems. Gleams traded for forbidden knowledge. Tomes retrieved against clearance from the Umbral archives. Nights spent reading and drawing schematics. Anything to understand more about Vargrún and how to curb his rising voice in Kailorien’s mind.
She’d been attending Council meetings in secret for decades, listening to others speak and make decisions for her without even considering her existence. Now it was time to go into this hall and show these men she wasn’t just a doll to be put on a shelf for display. If she didn’t master this fear now, her cage would always stay locked. As would Kailorien’s.
Taking a breath, she straightened her skirts and adjusted the diadem resting against her silver hair. She hated the ornament, but betterwear onethanbe one. If they didn’t want to let her speak, she wouldshout.
Auryn clenched her hands at her sides. Though she’d knocked, no one had answered. She’d tried to summon Attendants, but none had come. The Reskala at the colossal double doors didn’t even look down at her, their rune-scarred faces blank and their eyes glowing a faint white.
At last, she’d had enough of waiting. Auryn summoned her Weave and used it to pull the doors open. Straightening her spine and tilting up her chin, she walked into the Axis Hall as though she was welcome.
The moment their eyes found her, she nearly faltered.
Voices fell to whispers.
The air was so thick it could have been made of stone.
Click. Click. Click
Her heeled shoes clinked delicately on the white marble floors as she made her way to the Circle of Rule, the large Polis crystal round table in the center of the chamber. Each Councilor had his own seat along the edge of the room and on dais above, but the Circle was sacrosanct, a place reserved only for the Resh’Agar and the Sokâr.
Kailorien was seated there, and as she approached, he stood and gave a formal bow.
“My Sovereign Star,” he greeted. “You grace Us with your Light.”
Formal, but warm to a degree only she would recognize. There were new shadows beneath his eyes. Not from battle, but from the quiet rituals in the Companions’ wing that leeched pieces of him away, one breath at a time. Her biggest battleground. Her most ardent motivator for all of this.
Welcome to the battle, sweetfire. Let’s show these fools the light.
She was grateful, especially when Councilors suddenly stood and pointed their fingers at her.
“The Sokâr comes uninvited,” one of them said. Calixtan Murn. A decrepit reptile with a wrinkled face and a fickle vote.
“This Council did not summon you,” Torven Rax bellowed, his aethersteel armor gleaming. Always aggressive. Like he had something to prove.
Auryn walked around the table and sat in the chair meant for her, ignoring all protests.
“There is a chair here for the Sokâr,” Auryn decreed, her voice steady and confident. “Our Resh’Agar is here. We find it an affront that We havenotbeen summoned. Though, We believe it is a waste of the Council’stime—and Ours—to deliberate on this now. Especially since there arepressingissues that must be resolved.”
A hush fell across the chamber.
The air buzzed with signs and whispers as the Councilors spoke to each other.
'The ornament sings.'
'Formless and bold.'
'The Sokâr loses her mind.'
Auryn’s sharp eyes caught many such signed remarks.
