Seven enormous obsidian thrones formed a circle beneath a vaulted ceiling filled with slowly rotating constellations. Rivers of silver light flowed beneath the transparent floors while stars burned endlessly below us. Three additional Arkhevari stood near the center of the chamber. The remaining members of the Hall. All ancient. All terrifying in entirely different ways. And all staring directly at Naeris now.
I felt her tension through the bond immediately.Mine. I stepped slightly closer to her side.
“Relax,” I murmured quietly. “If they become irritating, I’ll throw them out a window.”
“Comforting.”
"You arrived just in time. We just got the others caught up to the events leading up to yesterday," Dravok informed us.
Well, I suppose it was good that we were late then. I hadn't been looking forward to this task. I could only imagine the thousands of questions Selkaris must have had.
The first of the remaining Arkhevari approached slowly. He was massive even by Arkhevari standards, broad-shouldered and disciplined in the rigid way only ancient soldiers became. Silver-gold armor covered him from throat to wrist, etched with countless glowing battle marks earned over millions of years.
Valelion. Sentinel of the Luminis Verge. Guardian of the threshold between Auris Prime and the Abyss. His pale eyes settled first on me, then on Naeris beside me.
“Naeris,” he greeted her warmly, inclining his head respectfully. “It is good to finally meet the female capable of terrifying Thyros into behaving.”
“I do not?—”
“You absolutely do,” Ella interrupted immediately.
Traitors. All of them. Naeris laughed softly beside me, and satisfaction curled warmly through my chest at the sound. Valelion’s stern mouth twitched faintly before he stepped aside. The second Arkhevari approached next.
Selkaris. Arbiter of Memory. The living archive of the Arkhevari. He moved quietly despite the immense presence rolling beneath his calm exterior. Dark robes shimmered with faint silver script while ancient memories seemed to flicker endlessly behind his pale eyes.
He looked at Naeris like she had discovered the answer to a mystery he had spent eternity chasing.
“Remarkable,” Selkaris murmured softly.
Naeris blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“The Heart fragment surviving with such structural integrity after millions of years was statistically unlikely,” Selkaris explained calmly. “Yet your emotional synchronization with Thyros exceeds even the oldest Aelyth records.”
Naeris stared at him for a long beat, then slowly looked toward Nadine. “He talks like you.”
“Nadine talks like him,” Dravok corrected dryly.
Selkaris ignored us entirely, still studying Naeris with scholarly fascination.
“Incredible,” he whispered almost to himself.
I was beginning to regret introducing them. The final remaining Arkhevari approached last.
Oryzael. Herald of Dawn. Diplomat. Voice of unity. The one who once bridged worlds while the rest of us waged war. Smooth silver robes flowed around him while soft golden light shimmered faintly beneath his skin. Unlike the rest of us, there was something almost deceptively gentle about him. At least until one looked into his eyes. Ancient power rested there. The kind capable of moving entire civilizations with words alone.
Oryzael’s gaze settled on Naeris with immediate understanding. Then softened.
“Ashera would have loved you deeply,” he said quietly.
The simple statement hit Naeris hard enough that I reflexively tightened my grip on her hand. Emotion flickered openly across her face before she steadied herself.
“Thank you,” she whispered softly.
A reflective silence settled briefly across the Hall afterward. I stared at the surviving Council of Seven. Trying to take it all in. The returned Aelyth. The end of the oldest war in existence. And somehow, we were all still standing. Well, all but Nythor, and no great loss there. The Oracle had become far too unhinged in recent memory.
Zapharos exhaled heavily and straightened from his throne.
“Well,” he muttered grimly. “Now comes the difficult part.”
