Chapter 97: Ghosts of the Past
CLINK.
The crisp sound of crystal glasses touching echoed in the private, heavily warded sanctum of the Lord Commander's office.
Far removed from the oppressive, formal atmosphere of the High Council Chamber, the five most powerful individuals in Bastion Seven finally allowed their rigid postures to relax.
Lord Commander Helion Goldmane stood by the massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking out over the sprawling, neon-lit inner city.
In his massive, scarred hand, he swirled a glass of amber liquid. Sitting on the plush leather couches behind him were the Four High Lords: Lady Logcheville, Lady Seraphina, Lord Tokks, and Patriarch Hennessey.
There was no political scheming here. No greed for territory or power. In this room, they were simply tired veterans who had spent their entire adult lives holding back the apocalypse.
"The Miasma Clearing Tower," Lord Tokks whispered, staring down at his glass. The usually stoic man rubbed his weary eyes.
