Chapter 6 The Council's Judgment

Eldoria's heart was the High Citadel, a towering spiral of pale stone laced with veins of living crystal. As Kael guided Elara toward its gate, she felt the shift in atmosphere. The air was heavier here, weighted with eyes unseen, judgment unspoken.

The great double doors creaked open at their approach, revealing a vast chamber lit by floating orbs and golden flames that danced without heat. Thirteen thrones stood in a half-circle, elevated above a platform where Kael now led her.

"Elara Moonstone," a voice rang out, clear, cold, and unfamiliar. An older man with dark robes and storm grey eyes rose from his seat. "Daughter of Seris and Alric. Returned from exile."

Elara's stomach twisted.

Another Elder, a woman with silver hair coiled like a crown, leaned forward. "You bear the mark. But that alone is not proof of who you claim to be."

"She does not claim it," Kael said, stepping forward. "I do. I was witness to her birth. Sworn to her mother's blood oath."

Murmurs stirred among the council.

Elara looked around the room. Some faces were curious. Others, hostile. A few are unreadable. But none friendly.

"You bring her back," another Elder sneered, "as if memory erases treason. Her blood carries both moon and shade. She is a danger."

"She is our future," Kael growled.

The chamber quieted.

An Elder from the far end rose, tapping his staff against the floor. "The law demands she be tested."

Kael turned to Elara. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do," she whispered.

A pool of moonstone glowed beneath the council. From it rose a pedestal, upon which a single dagger rested, curved, ancient, and alive with runes.

"She will bleed into the Stone of Ancestry," the Elder declared. "If she lies, the stone will reject her. If she speaks the truth, her blood will unlock what was sealed."

Elara stepped forward. Her hand trembled, but she picked up the dagger. The mark on her shoulder flared.

She drew the blade across her palm.

Her blood coed onto the stone.

It sizzled.

The chamber shook.

A memory unfolded in light and sound.

A vision.

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Seris, tall and crowned in silver flame, clutching a baby to her chest. Alric, standing at her side. The palace was burning behind them. Elders with raised swords. A voice- Seris's ringing out like thunder: "If you betray us, know this: she will return. And she will not kneel."

Then darkness.

Silence.

Gasps echoed. The vision vanished.

The dagger clattered to the floor.

Elara looked up, her hand still bleeding. "Do you believe me now?"

Silence.

The woman with the silver hair stood. Her face is unreadable.

"Truth has been shown," she said at last. "But truth does not erase fear. You are the heir of a broken house, Elara. You may stay. But you are not yet queen. Not until you prove that you are more than a ghost of prophecy."

Kael stepped to Elara's side.

And Elara, though pale and shaking, straightened her spine.

"Then I'll prove it," she said. "To every one of you."

Because she wasn't just her mother's daughter.

She was the storm waiting to be unleashed.