The High Council chamber was quiet save for the scratch of quills and the soft rustle of parchment. Sunlight filtered through tall windows, casting sharp lines across the circular table where the councilors sat.

  Leelinor occupied the head of the table, his hands folded before him. To his right sat Thalion, the blade master, his posture straight as iron. Caroline sat to Leelinor’s left, her sharp eyes scanning the room. Across from them, Karg leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. Zeeshoof, the ancient scholar, sat with ink-stained robes and a face carved by years. Abhoof, Leelinor’s eldest son, sat beside him, quiet and watchful. Peehef occupied the seat beside an empty chair.

  Guhile’s chair.

  Leelinor’s gaze drifted to the empty seat, then back to Thalion. “Report.”

  Thalion spread a map across the table. Red marks dotted the southern regions. “The main villages have received word from the outer settlements. The enemy forces that spent months raiding and burning have withdrawn. Entire battalions. Gone. They marched out in formation and disappeared.”

  Karg’s brow furrowed. “All of them?”

  “Nearly all.” Thalion’s finger tapped a mark near the eastern edge. “Yesterday, a village near Zao was attacked by a dragon. But the village had already been evacuated after previous ogre raids. No casualties. The dragon burned empty homes and left.”

  Silence settled over the table.

  Karg leaned forward. “This withdrawal is extremely curious. Armies don’t simply retreat after months of sustained assault. Not without reason.”

  “It’s not random,” Leelinor said. His voice was calm, but his jaw was tight. “They’re preparing something larger. Eldoria needs to be ready.”

  Caroline raised her hand. “I have news. This morning, I received a raven from Dragon God Village. Isaac, Edduuhf, and Toumar are returning. They’re bringing light armor forged from Hoo-stone. And an army with them.”

  Zeeshoof’s weathered face shifted into something resembling relief. “At least one piece of good news.”

  Leelinor nodded. “Agreed.” He turned to Peehef. “Where is Guhile? Why hasn’t he taken his seat?”

  Peehef straightened slightly. “Guhile is occupied with research. Something that could change everything. The entire system of warfare.”

  Karg’s eyes narrowed. “What research? If it could change the system of warfare, he should be presenting it to this council. Not deciding alone what to do.”

  Leelinor’s gaze hardened. “Information of that magnitude cannot remain with Guhile alone. The council must know.”

  Peehef raised his hands. “It’s still in the research phase. When Guhile has something concrete, he will inform the full council. But I assure you, Guhile always desires what is best for Eldoria.”

  Leelinor’s expression didn’t change. “Tell Guhile to present himself before the council this afternoon. I want a full report.”

  “I will summon him as ordered,” Peehef said.

  Leelinor rose. “This session is closed. We reconvene this afternoon.”

  The councilors stood and filed out. Karg left first, his expression unreadable. Abhoof followed, then Zeeshoof, then Peehef. The door closed behind them.

  Caroline remained. So did Thalion.

  Leelinor sank back into his chair. “Speak.”

  Caroline stepped closer to the table. “Another raven arrived this morning. From the north. Luucner, Ziif, and Kooel didn’t just secure weapons. They’re bringing warriors. Three hundred of them. Led by Naramel.”

  Leelinor’s eyes sharpened. “Naramel.”

  “You know him?”

  “I’ve seen him fight.” Leelinor’s voice was quiet. “Once. Years ago. Fierce. Loyal. Unstoppable. In all my life, I’ve never seen anyone fight like him.”

  Thalion’s brow lifted. “You saying someone is an impressive warrior is rare.”

  “Because it is rare,” Leelinor said.

  Caroline crossed her arms. “I didn’t mention this in front of the full council. If there’s a traitor, I didn’t want them knowing when reinforcements arrive.”

  Thalion frowned. “But you mentioned Isaac.”

  Caroline’s mouth curved slightly. “If there’s a leak about Isaac, I gave no arrival date. And if it leaks, we’ll know someone at this table is the traitor.”

  Thalion considered this, then nodded. “Smart.”

  Leelinor looked at her. “I respect your decision. The news from the north is encouraging.” He paused. “But this sudden withdrawal of enemy forces worries me. They’re not retreating. They’re repositioning.”

  “For what?” Thalion asked.

  “Something we’re not ready for,” Leelinor said.

  ?

  Guhile walked through Eldoria’s underground tunnels. The stone walls were old, carved centuries ago, their surfaces worn smooth by generations of feet. Torches burned in iron sconces, casting flickering light over narrow passages that branched in all directions.

  He had been searching for hours. The final node. The last connection point for the portal. It had to be here. Somewhere beneath the city. Hidden in the foundation.

  But he hadn’t found it yet.

  His hand tightened around the parchment in his pocket. Kareed’s ultimatum echoed in his mind. One week. One week to find the node, activate it, and open the portal. Or become irrelevant.

  He climbed a staircase that opened into a courtyard. Sunlight hit him like a slap. He blinked, shielding his eyes.

  Across the courtyard, Deehia stood in the training yard.

  Sweat soaked through her tunic. Her white hair was tied back, loose strands sticking to her face. Her hands were raised, palms glowing faintly with green light. The ARK-stone bracelets on her wrists pulsed in rhythm with her breathing.

  She thrust her hand forward. A spear of green energy erupted from her palm, streaking across the yard and slamming into a wooden target. The target exploded into splinters.

  Deehia exhaled, lowering her hands. She rolled her shoulders, shook out her arms, then raised her hands again.

  This time, she twisted her wrist. A whip of energy coiled out from her palm, crackling with heat. She snapped it forward. The whip wrapped around another target, tightening. Smoke rose where the energy touched wood. The target burst into flames.

  Deehia released the whip. It dissipated into sparks.

  Guhile watched from the edge of the courtyard. She was improving. Faster than he’d expected. The ARK-stones amplified her natural talent, but the control she was developing was her own.

  He stepped forward. “Impressive.”

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  Deehia turned, her chest still heaving. “Guhile. I didn’t see you.”

  “You were focused.” He crossed the yard, hands clasped behind his back. “Your form is improving. The energy whip is difficult to maintain. Most mages can’t sustain it for more than a few seconds.”

  Deehia wiped sweat from her brow. “I’m trying.”

  “You’re succeeding.” Guhile stopped a few feet away. “Tell me, Deehia. How can the council justify limiting magic like this? How can they separate the races, keeping power in the hands of the few, when magic could unite everyone? One kingdom. One people. All equal.”

  Deehia’s expression tightened. “They’re cautious. Our traditions brought us this far. The elves believe knowledge and tradition kept them alive.”

  “True,” Guhile said. “But those traditions also kept them in power. Above the others. As if the other races were born into this world to serve them. As if they owe us for existing.”

  Deehia looked at him. “That’s true too. And we need to change that. My mother wanted everyone to live together. She wanted the wars to end.”

  “Of course she did,” Guhile said softly. “And magic will make that possible. When everyone has power, everyone is equal. No more hierarchies. No more divisions.”

  Deehia nodded slowly. “I want that.”

  “Then you need to be stronger.” Guhile gestured to the training yard. “Let me help. Practice your shields. I’ll test them.”

  Deehia hesitated, then nodded. She raised her hands. Green light flared around her, forming a dome of energy that shimmered faintly in the air.

  Guhile stepped back. He raised his hand. A spear of blue energy formed in his palm. He threw it.

  The spear struck Deehia’s shield. It held.

  Guhile threw another. Then another. Deehia’s shield absorbed each impact, rippling but not breaking.

  “Good,” Guhile said. “But not good enough.”

  He threw faster. Harder. The spears came in rapid succession, slamming into the shield with brutal force. Deehia’s arms shook. Sweat ran down her face. Her breathing quickened.

  “Hold it,” Guhile said. His voice was calm. Cold.

  He raised both hands. A massive spear of energy formed between his palms, twice the size of the others. His eyes locked onto Deehia.

  He hurled it.

  The shield shattered.

  The blast of energy slammed into Deehia, lifting her off her feet and hurling her backward. She flew across the yard, crashing through low-hanging branches before hitting the ground hard.

  Guhile walked toward her.

  Deehia groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows. Her tunic was torn. Blood ran from a cut above her eyebrow. Her hands trembled.

  Guhile knelt beside her. His hand reached out, brushing the white strands of hair from her face. His fingers lingered on her forehead.

  “To be part of the evolution,” he said quietly, “to teach it to others, you need to be stronger. Firmer with those who resist. Do you understand?”

  Deehia’s breath came in ragged gasps. She nodded.

  “Train harder,” Guhile said. His voice was soft. Almost kind. “Tonight, meet me in the Tower of Engineering. In the basement. I want to show you something.”

  He stood and walked away.

  Deehia stayed on the ground, staring at the sky. Her hands still shook. Blood dripped from her eyebrow onto the dirt. She didn’t move for a long time.????????????????

  -----

  The basement of the Tower of Engineering smelled of damp stone and old iron. Guhile stood before a wall covered in maps, his fingers tracing lines that connected nodes across Eldoria. Red marks scattered across the parchment. Green marks clustered near the center. One mark remained blank. The final node.

  He had been searching for hours. Nothing.

  Footsteps echoed down the stone staircase. Guhile didn’t turn.

  “Guhile.”

  Peehef’s voice was tight. The engineer descended the stairs, his robes dusty from the forges above. He stopped a few paces away, arms crossed.

  “The council has requested your presence. The afternoon session begins in one hour.”

  Guhile’s hand stilled on the map. “I can’t go.”

  Peehef’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean you can’t go? Leelinor ordered you to present yourself.”

  “Kareed gave me one week to find the final point and activate the portal.” Guhile’s voice was flat. “I don’t have time for council meetings.”

  “Then what will you do?” Peehef stepped closer. “How will you find it fast enough?”

  Guhile turned slowly. His eyes were hollow, dark circles beneath them. “I don’t know yet. But right now, I need to divert their attention. Keep Leelinor occupied. Keep the council focused elsewhere.”

  Peehef’s jaw tightened. “What are you planning?”

  “Mosiah will fall.”

  Peehef’s breath caught. “Mosiah? That’s too close to the capital. The enemy armies withdrew. How could—”

  “Go to the council,” Guhile interrupted. His voice was cold. “You’ll know it was me.”

  Peehef stared at him. For a long moment, neither spoke. Then Peehef turned and climbed the stairs without another word.

  Guhile returned to the map. His hand found a small glass vial in his pocket. Inside, a green liquid glowed faintly. He held it up to the torchlight, studying it.

  Then he slipped it back into his pocket and left the basement.

  ?

  The council chamber was quieter this time. Fewer voices. Heavier air.

  Leelinor sat at the head of the table, his hands folded. Thalion stood near the window, arms crossed. Caroline occupied her seat, her expression unreadable. Karg sat across from her, fingers steepled. Zeeshoof’s weathered face was lined with exhaustion. Abhoof remained silent beside him.

  Peehef entered last. He took his seat beside Guhile’s empty chair.

  Leelinor’s gaze locked onto him immediately. “Where is Guhile?”

  Peehef met his eyes. “He sends his apologies. He asked that the council allow him to focus on his research. He will attend tomorrow’s session and present his findings then.”

  Karg leaned forward. “He was ordered to appear. This is unacceptable.”

  “I agree,” Leelinor said. His voice was stone. “But if Guhile believes his research is critical, we will hear him tomorrow. If he does not present something substantial, there will be consequences.”

  Peehef nodded once. “Understood.”

  Leelinor turned to Thalion. “Continue your report from this morning. What else have the scouts—”

  The sound cut through the chamber like a blade.

  A distant roar. Deep. Guttural. Inhuman.

  Everyone froze.

  Caroline stood abruptly, moving to the window. Her face went pale.

  “What is it?” Leelinor demanded.

  “Smoke,” she whispered. “To the east. Near Mosiah.”

  Another roar. Closer this time. The windows rattled.

  Thalion moved beside her, his hand going to the hilt of his blade. His eyes narrowed. “Two of them.”

  “Two what?” Karg asked, rising from his seat.

  “Dragons.”

  The word hung in the air like poison. Leelinor crossed to the window. His breath stopped.

  On the horizon, smoke rose in thick black columns. Flames licked at the sky, visible even from this distance. And above the smoke, two shapes circled.

  One was massive, its scales a burnt yellow that caught the light. A female. Her wings stretched wide, each beat sending ripples through the smoke. When she opened her jaws, blue fire poured forth, a stream of liquid heat that ignited everything it touched.

  The other was smaller, sleeker. Male. His scales were olive green, darker along the spine. Red fire erupted from his maw, painting the sky in crimson.

  Bells began to ring. Not the slow, measured tolls of ceremony. Rapid. Frantic. The alarm bells.

  Horns blared from the walls. Guards shouted. Footsteps thundered through the halls outside the council chamber.

  Leelinor turned from the window. His face was fury carved in stone. “Thalion. Mobilize every available warrior. Send them to Mosiah. Now.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Thalion moved toward the door.

  “Caroline, organize evacuation routes for the surrounding villages. If Mosiah falls, refugees will flood the roads. We need to be ready.”

  Caroline nodded and left without a word.

  “Karg, get word to the eastern garrisons. I want every soldier on high alert.”

  Karg rose and disappeared through the door.

  Leelinor turned to Abhoof. “Find your brother. Tell him to prepare the infirmary for mass casualties.”

  Abhoof’s face was grim. “Understood.”

  He left. Only Zeeshoof and Peehef remained.

  Leelinor walked to the center of the chamber. His jaw was tight. His hands clenched into fists.

  “My lord,” Zeeshoof said quietly. “You cannot go alone.”

  “I’m not asking for permission.” Leelinor’s voice was steel. He turned toward the door. “Arcanjo. Now.”

  Peehef stood. “Leelinor, wait—”

  But Leelinor was already gone, his boots echoing down the corridor.

  Zeeshoof and Peehef exchanged glances. Neither spoke. They didn’t need to.

  Outside, the screams began.

  ?

  From the walls of Eldoria, the guards could see it clearly now. Mosiah was burning.

  The village sat in a shallow valley, surrounded by farmland and low hills. It was close. Too close. Less than an hour’s ride from the capital. The smoke rose in towering columns, black and red, twisting as the wind caught them.

  The dragons circled above, their roars carrying across the distance. Even from here, the sound was deafening. Primal. Terrifying.

  One guard dropped his spear. His hands shook.

  “Gods protect us,” someone whispered.

  The burnt yellow dragon descended. Her wings folded. She landed with an impact that shook the ground. Blue fire erupted from her jaws, sweeping across what remained of the village square. Buildings collapsed. Wood vaporized. Stone cracked and melted.

  The olive green dragon circled higher, herding the survivors. Red fire streaked down, cutting off escape routes, driving people back into the flames.

  Screams carried on the wind. Faint. Desperate. Helpless.

  Inside Eldoria, mothers pulled their children close. Merchants abandoned their stalls and ran for their homes. Guards gripped their weapons, staring at the horizon, knowing they were too far away to help.

  In the stables, Leelinor’s pegasus waited.

  Arcanjo was massive, his coat pure white, his wings edged in silver. He stamped his hooves as Leelinor approached, saddle already in place, reins ready.

  Leelinor swung onto his back without hesitation. “Fly.”

  Arcanjo’s wings spread. One powerful beat launched them into the air. The ground fell away. The wind roared in Leelinor’s ears.

  Behind him, Thalion’s voice echoed through the courtyard. “Mount up! All available riders! We ride for Mosiah!”

  Warriors scrambled. Horses were saddled. Blades were drawn. Within minutes, a column of riders thundered through Eldoria’s gates, heading east toward the smoke.

  But Leelinor was already ahead of them, Arcanjo’s wings carrying him faster than any horse could run.

  The burnt yellow dragon roared again. The sound rattled Leelinor’s ribs even from this distance.

  He leaned forward, his hands tight on the reins. “Faster.”

  Arcanjo obeyed.

  Below, Mosiah continued to burn. The olive green dragon landed beside his mate. Together, they tore through what remained of the village, their fire consuming everything.

  And above it all, Leelinor flew toward the flames, alone, driven by nothing but fury and desperation. The smoke rose higher. The screams grew fainter.