Chapter 270: We Are, And We Do [Bonus - ]

Officials and workers moved through the corridor in crisp, distinctive uniforms. The Kingdom Servants wore robes of burgundy and gold, their sleeves embroidered with silver thread that glowed faintly as they moved.

The Council Clerks wore high-collared tunics of deep blue, datapads floating obediently at their sides. The Arcane Scribes were the most striking, their robes were black with patterns of constellations that actually moved, stars shifting slowly across the fabric as if each Scribe wore a piece of the night sky.

They all stopped and stared as the group passed.

The Brigadiers led them through the corridor, then into a lift which carried them through the heart of the central spire. Through the crystal walls, Lancet could see the inner workings of the Hall: offices where officials debated policy, chambers where Awakeners trained, archives where ancient texts were preserved in cases of stasis-light.

The lift rose higher and higher, past floors labeled with names that made even Astensia’s eyes widen: the Hall of Heroes, the Chamber of Records, the Sanctuary of the First Flame.

Finally, the lift stopped.

The doors opened. They stepped out and walked down a corridor that was lit up by golden candles spread on the edges of the floor.

A door awaited them, and the guards in pristine high grade armor opened this door for them

The Kingdom Council Room was a circle. A perfect, enormous circle.

The floor was the whitest marble veined with gold, and at its center was an inlaid compass rose rendered in precious metals. The design was platinum for the cardinal directions and silver for the intercardinals.

The walls curved upward in a seamless ring of dark wood and luminous crystal, alternating between panels of ancient oak carved with the laws of the world and panels of pure light that displayed shifting images of the five kingdoms.

Above, the ceiling was not a ceiling at all. It was a dome of transparent crystal, and through it, the sky was visible in all its glory. It was blue and endless, with clouds drifting slowly across the sun. Beams of light poured through the dome and fell upon the room below in shifting columns of gold.

And at the center of it all, facing the entrance where Lancet and his Heroines now stood, was the Council Table.

It was a semi-circle, a sweeping arc of dark ironwood that curved around the room’s central space like a crescent moon.

The table was inlaid with holographic emitters that displayed a constantly updating map of the world, red markers pulsing where Demon activity had been reported, and so on.

The Brigadiers stopped at the entrance. They did not enter.

Malakai, Azura, Steele, and Letika moved to the walls, taking up positions at the four cardinal points of the room. Their presence was not threatening, but it was unmistakable.

They weren’t only witnesses. They weren’t mere guards. They were both.

Lancet stepped forward. His Heroines moved with him; Astensia on his right, Thor on her right, Kestrel on his left, Espel on her left, and Spectra slightly behind, her crimson eyes taking in everything.

She had been here before. She had suffered the judgement of this place and no matter how much they refurbished it, this was still the same building that condemned her.

Spectra was in no hurry to repeat the experience.

They walked to the center of the circle, where the compass rose spread beneath their feet, and stopped.

Behind the table sat ten figures. Each one radiated an aura that filled the room, pressing against Lancet’s senses like a physical weight.

These were the people who decided the fate of the people, who commanded armies, who held the line between the world and the Second World.

In the center, in the highest-backed chair, sat a man with dark, long curly hair that fell past his shoulders and a beard that would have made any wizard jealous.

It was full and thick and streaked with silver, carefully groomed but undeniably wild. His eyes were deep-set and sharp, the eyes of a man who had seen too much and forgotten nothing. He wore robes of deep crimson and black, and around his neck hung a chain of office that glowed with its own inner light.

"Good day to all of you," he said, and his voice was deep and resonant, the kind of voice that could calm a riot or declare a war with equal authority. "I am Council Lord Obel, and by my sides are the nine Council Members of the World."

He gestured to the men and women seated around him. They had faces of different ages, different kingdoms, different disciplines, but all united by the weight of their responsibility.

"Before we begin," Obel continued, "we must first summon the Sovereigns of the five Kingdoms, as their presence in this matter is of the utmost importance."

He raised one hand.

Above the semi-circular table, close to the right side, a massive block of light materialized from nothing. It was rectangular, taller than a man, and its surface had a shimmering effect before it transformed into a screen.

The screen flickered once, then resolved into the image of a face.

A handsome young man with straight white hair that fell like a curtain of snow and eyes that glowed silver was the owner of this face. He wore a crown of frost that looked like it was growing from his temples, and behind him, a throne of ice stretched high.

"First, Sovereign of Antarticon, King Odesto Iceheart."

Another block appeared on the opposite side, and another face materialized. A dark-skinned woman of impossible elegance, her features sharp and regal, her hair cropped close to her scalp in a style that accentuated the severe beauty of her face. Her eyes were the color of amethysts, and she wore robes of deep purple and silver that shimmered like the night sky.

"Sovereign of Ebonia, Avanke Deleste."

A third block, beside the first appeared next. A man with the weathered face of a warrior-king appeared. His luscious brown hair was streaked with grey, and his jaw set in a permanent expression of grim determination. A falcon perched on his shoulder, its eyes glowing with the same golden light as his own.

"Sovereign of Falcon Standing, King Ronald Galt."

A fourth block appeared next, beside the second. This was another woman. She was deathly pale but her hair was as black as a raven and piled high in an elaborate arrangement of braids and pins. Her crown was magnificent with glistening gold threads and a dragon head on its center.

"Sovereign of Asiris, Queen Liu Xiu Exara."

And then, finally, a fifth block appeared directly in the center, above Obel’s head. The face that materialized was that of a blonde, handsome, battle-hardened man with a golden beard and eyes the color of a summer sky.

"Finally, Sovereign of the World Capital Aethelgard, King Romsgard Goldstone."

The King of Aethelgard’s eyes moved across the room, taking in the Heroines one by one, and then they settled on Lancet.

His chin raised as he gave Lancet a look of familiarity. As usual, King Romsgard carried a greater aura about him. As king of Earth’s capital, he was basically the world’s ruler.

Council Lord Obel spoke again, his voice carrying the gravity of the moment.

"World Sovereigns, are you with us? Do you see the individuals before the Council?"

The Sovereigns all echoed the words, or versions of the words: "We are, and we do."

Obel cleared his throat, and the sound echoed across the vast chamber. He leaned forward slightly, his wizardly beard brushing the table, his deep-set eyes fixed on the six figures standing in the center of the compass rose.

"Very well then," he said. "We may begin."

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A/N: Join the Discord to use the new character emojis. Here are pictures! →