“This is Our city as much as yours, Councilors. Perhaps more, even. We come to speak on the rising attacks in the Selen District. On the Solutus. And on the Shields.”
Draevan Sol, a man with long black hair drawn back tight against his scalp and flowing brown and gold robes glared at her from his seat. Many other Councilors looked to him for direction and advice.
None knew his true age. He was the Master of Strategic Mana Flow, and many suspected he had altered his life span using some forbidden magic. However, he was themost influentialman in the room.
And, unfortunately, the one who despised the Sokâr more than most.
After Auryn’s declaration, his mouth curved into a poisonous smile. “Curious. We were just discussing that. Though I doubt ceremony has prepared you for strategy.”
A breath—Master thy fear.
“We will pose a question,” she announced, turning her attention to the chamber. “Has anyone asked why the Solutus are rebelling? What they claim as their cause?”
A few Councilors chuckled.
Draevan laughed outright. “Why should it matter what madness drives a dog to bite?”
Her eyes, silver and steady, locked with his.
“If you don’t know someone’s motive, how can you deter them from murder?”
Draevan’s smile faltered.
"They kidnap child Apprentices," she continued. "Even those of age. More and more are taken every Cycle. Is the Council not concerned about the implications of this?"
Some of the men looked at one another with frowns and shadowed expressions.
"And the bird they've recently taken to painting on their robes—the Ashborne. It is the symbol of the Sovereign Flame, yet they depict it with broken wings."
Draevan scowled. "Where is the Sokâr reaching with this discussion?"
"If faith drives their actions, these attacks will only worsen." She pushed on. “Simply raising Reskala patrols won’t be enough. They will die in the Solutus explosions with the citizens, and then you will have to answer to Tharalon Drex for putting his warriors in harm’s way without considering the consequences. Birth rates are still low. The Lifegivers are dying to Pale Madness, and children are born wrong. This isnotthe time to risk the lives of Our Reskala recklessly.”
The chamber stilled.
Beside her, Kailorien shifted his weight between his feet.
“Before considering physical measures, magical ones must be attempted. Wards should be placed at key District ley lines,” she continued. “Where mana isn’t required for daily function, block it. Explosives that feed on mana will fail. If they cannot use magic, then Reskala can handle isolated attackers.”
No one spoke. Not for a long moment.
Kailorien shifted again, and she stole a glance at him.
He was looking at her. The smallest hint of a smile tugged at his mouth. A softness in his eyes. And just enough of a mischievous twinkle that made her wonder what he was about—
Good girl.
Warmth rose to her cheeks, and she did her bestnotto turn away from him too fast.
But the spell was short-lived.
Council murmurs resumed. Objections rose.
“District ley lines are sovereign,” said Branthis Corr, the Councilor in charge of Mana and Light Logistics. “To interfere violates the Charter of Veins.”
Expecting this resistance, Auryn unfurled a scroll from her satchel and placed it on the Circle of Rule. The Polis glimmered, and Auryn channeled mana into it from her fingertips. The crystal responded eagerly. From the surface, a light rose towards the domed ceiling. An image appeared, identical to the document laying on the table.
“Article Twelve of the Glassbound Treaty,” she said without stopping to gloat at the shocked looks on the Councilors’ faces, “states that in the case of mass threat, sovereignty may be bypassed in favor of preservation. Magical warding included.”
