"Wait....GOLDEN!?"
Eli's breath got caught up as the thought struck her, she had seen those golden pairs previously, from behind that stranger's mask. That realization jolted her and she sprang herself forward to sit upright with a bolt, startled. Her sudden moment had sent her hair tumbling forward over her shoulders.
Before her mind could chase the thought any further a soft chime echoed through the chamber coming from an empty chair nearby.
"Huh? Where's Arlo? I remember keeping it right there."
She got to her feet and crossed the room. When she confirmed the empty chair she frowned her brows before bending down with her hands and knees on the ground peering beneath the chair and around it's legs, searching for any sign of her fox plushie.
There was no trace of Arlo. Getting up and looking closely she saw one of Arlo's eyes was on the chair, the small eye shaped button was now pulsing faintly with light. For a while she gaped at it but later picked it up carefully.
The moment her fingers touched it a translucent window shimmered to life before her eyes. Her brows drew together as she read the message bringing unease across her face.
***
"The devil's shroud has trespassed upon our very borders," Crown Prince Callisto began, his voice came measured yet edged with subdued fury. "He has dared to lay hand against our blood....against my sister herself. This is no longer a distant blaze we can watch from afar. The fire is at our gates, and it demands to be answered."
Callisto stood firm at his place, to the right of King Aldric of Elarion who was sitting in at the head position. His words echoed softly against the cold stone. They all were gathered in secret chamber within a hidden hollow deep beneath the mountains. Around him sat a selected few people; the kingdom's most trusted nobles and dignitaries from allied nations, all assembled in secrecy.
The vast round table before them had been carved directly from the mountain having a rough yet enduring surface, much like the matters discussed upon it. The chamber itself was hollowed out from the mountain, not built and was lit only by the wavering glow of torches that lined the walls, casting long, uncertain silhouettes across the faces of those who would decide the realm's fate.
A few of the seats toward the back stood empty. None among the gathered wore armor, yet their eyes held the weight of war all the same. The Crown Prince's words sent a shockwave through the chamber and the attendees exchanged glances heavy with calculation and disbelief.
From the far edge of the table a man in his mid-forties with slicked-back hair spoke "How is the Crown Prince so certain it was Vortalis who attacked them, and not some faction within their own lands stirring trouble?" he asked tapping his fingers lightly against the stone surface. "Was it not said that the assailants were mere bandits who waylaid the Princess's entourage?"
Callisto's gaze hardened, "Some truths are better kept from the public, for the sake of their peace," he replied. "It is precisely because they dared to strike at us that we are all gathered here, Lord Cannor Duskfall."
Cannor leaned back in his chair before his gaze drifted toward the empty seats. "It seems not all were convinced by the arguments in the letter you sent along with your invitation, young Crown Prince," he slyly speculated aloud, "The Ilvaran royals were meant to be present today, were they not? I suppose they either disagree with your cause or do not consider Vortalis a threat worth their attention!", but there was hardly any attempt at disguising his true meaning.
Countess Olivia smiled faintly, "Lord Duskfall, you are here, are you not? I suppose the royals of your kingdom are quite in tune with this young Crown Prince's vision." She tilted her head slightly with a playful glint in her eyes.
"If not, does your opinion wander where your king's does not? My-my....is that what you are looking for? I am sure your crown won't be pleased by this behavior of yours." she tsked dramatically before adding,
"Unless, perhaps it is only that your seasoned mind struggles to keep pace with the sharpness of younger ones!" With that, the lady who has aged like a fine wine offered the Crown Prince a quick, knowing wink.
Before Cannor, now with a touch of red and restrained anger could respond, king Aldric's voice cut through the chamber.
"Enough," he commanded, the single word echoed off the stone walls. "We are not gathered here to argue amongst ourselves, but to secure an alliance that may yet hold our borders." His gaze swept across the table lingering briefly on the empty chairs. "We have received no word from Ilvaran; our envoy has not yet returned. Has anyone here established contact with them?"
No one answered outright still the silence that followed was enough making it clear that Ilvaran has gone silent for far too long.
"Don't tell me, he had already snubbed them?" came a voice from the furthest end of the chamber.
"If that is the case," the speaker went on, "then it marks the fourth kingdom in less than a year — burned, silenced, or consumed. And if we choose to wait until he comes to our gates…" He paused letting the silence complete the thought none dared to speak aloud.
"Then we would be already too late!" finished a young man sitting beside the other side of king Aldric of Elarion. He had his hands folded over an open scroll before him which he was examining moments ago. He was donned in a neatly pressed suit of deep green and silver, trimmed with fur around it's collar and neck area marking him unmistakably as a son of the cold mountain kingdom of Winterlake. The gathered heads looked at his steady young face as he spoke, "Which is why we are not waiting anymore!"
Callisto nodded his head in agreement. "Indeed. The northern pass is already being fortified and Duke of Winterlake's reports confirms the continental army's readiness for engagement."
"But readiness alone will not stop him." the King added. "His armies do not march as men do. Were it only our deaths at stake, we might have accepted that fate; but he does not take cities only." Aldric's face showed sign of ageing as his voice dropped to a chilling calm. "He erases them. It is as if they are not conquering land… but removing it."
Callisto exhaled slowly, adding. "Which is why continental army is being involved and this alliance matters more than tradition," he said trying to convince the attendees. "More than any titles. Even more than the borders we draw between ourselves."
A low murmur went through the chamber. Some faces turned pale at the mention of Drayce's reach while a few other exchanged skeptical looks. Not all were convinced in Elarion's sudden suggestion of an alliance believing Elarion sought to rally allies under the guise of danger to tighten its grip on neighboring thrones. They were ready to dismiss Drayce as no looming terror but a distant name inflated by rumor and fear. Until, King Aldric raised a hand, and the murmuring ceased at once.
"Drayce is formidable," he began, "but he is not invincible. His strength lies in isolation; a fire that burns bright, but he burns alone. And such flames, if united against, may yet be quenched. If we all stand together combining our soldiers, our stores, our wisdom as one, we wield not mere hope, but the power to prevail him."
Lady Olivia inclined her head gracefully opening a slender fan before her face, "Hope? Your Majesty, hope bears weight only when all believe in it," she said as her eyes zeroed pointedly toward Lord Duskfall. "You speak of trust, and rightly so, yet we must not forget the grudges that still linger between our banners."
"If your grudge outweighs survival, Countess Olivia," The young man of Winterlake in furred suit with deep forest colored hair said, "then by all means, take it to the flames with the rest."
"Direct as ever, duke," he heard her reply lowering her fan. "Winterlake's diplomacy has a certain… efficiency to it."
Around the table a few uneasy smiles surfaced and others looked away unwilling to be caught between them.
As if conjured by their very tension the great chamber doors groaned open, their echo slicing through the edgy air. A minister entered rapidly as he looked gray and breathless while he clutched a sealed dispatch tightly in his hand. Without any greetings he made his way straight to the king's side and bowed low before leaning in while he raised a trembling hand to his mouth, lowering himself close to the King's ear and whispered low, urgent words that turned the King's expression from stern composure to confusion to grim stillness.
Finally the king rose slowly as the weight of fresh news settled over his shoulders.