The council chamber was not made for comfort.It was made to endure.
No tapestries hung on its walls. No braziers offered warmth. The stone was cold, black-veined, and silent. A great round table of obsidian dominated the center, etched with the seven seals of the Great Holds. It was here that kings were named, laws were carved, and wars declared—not with shouting, but with the weight of stillness.
Today, it was not still.
Rurik stood at the head of the table, one hand clenched around its edge. The veins in his forearm stood out like roots beneath the skin. His crown rested on the anvil-shaped pedestal behind him, untouched.
Around him, the Lords of the Forges sat like jagged statues—twelve in all, one for each Deephold. Their armor gleamed, their beards braided in the runes of lineage and labor. But none spoke. They watched.
And beside them, in the shadows of the pillars, the Runepriests whispered like falling dust.
Durik stood near Rei, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Kaia leaned against a pillar. Her fingers never strayed far from her blade.
Rei had never felt so… weighed. Not judged. Not threatened.
Measured.
King Rurik broke the silence.
"The Forge lives," he said. "You felt it. All of you. In your bones. It breathed again beneath our feet."
One of the lords nodded. "And it screamed."
Another added, "You bring the Riftborn into the Sanctum, and the mountain splits."
"He did not cause it," Durik said sharply.
A murmur followed. Uncertainty. Disbelief. Fear.
Rei stayed silent.
Let them speak. Let them show what they feared.
Rurik's gaze drifted to the satchel at Rei's side.
Then to Rei himself.
"The Gem of Skarnveil," the King said. "Found with him. Bound to him. But it belongs to us. To the Forge. To Druvadir."
Kaia stiffened. "So you'll just take it, then?"
"No," Rurik said, too calmly. "I will ask."
He stepped around the table. His boots rang against the stone.
When he reached Rei, he did not raise his voice.
He simply extended a hand.
"Give me the Gem."
Rei looked down at the satchel.
Then at the hand.
It was not the same hand that had touched the Gem in the Sanctum. The fingers trembled faintly. The veins there pulsed darker than before. As if something had lingered.
Rei met the King's gaze.
"I don't think it answers to you anymore."
The chamber froze.
Then someone stood.
A Forge-Lord—ancient, broad-shouldered, runes etched into the bone plates of his armor.
"You bring him here," the lord growled, "let him walk our sacred halls, wield one of our blades—and now he defies the throne?"
"He carries fire we do not understand," another said. "And you would name him guest?"
Durik stepped forward. "He walked through the Breath. He did not burn. The mountain did not spit him out—it sang."
"The mountain sang because the Wyrm stirred," one Runepriest hissed. "And you think that's a blessing?"
The voices rose.
Arguments.
Accusations.
Rurik raised a hand.
Silence fell like a guillotine.
He turned back to Rei. And for the first time… the King hesitated.
"I saw something," Rurik said, voice low. "When I touched it. The Gem."
Everyone leaned in.
"I saw thrones of fire. I saw myself… holding a blade not meant for kings. A blade meant for gods."
The Runepriests whispered frantically.
Durik's jaw clenched.
Kaia moved to Rei's side.
Rurik looked down at his own palm.
It still bore the faint red glow.
"I do not know if what I saw was truth… or temptation. But it was power."
He looked back to Rei.
"And if it is yours… then we must decide if you are ally—or heir."
Rei blinked.
The word echoed too long in the air.
Kaia whispered, "He wants to use you."
"No," Rei murmured. "He wants to bind me. But?"
But Rei without hesitation placed the Gem of Skarnveil in a small anvil.
"Let us see what the Gem has to say."
The chamber trembled.
Not from quake.
But from the deep, distant rumble of the Forge.
As if it disapproved.
Rurik was surprised but stepped back. "Enough for today. Let the flames cool."
He turned to the council.
"We reconvene at dusk. Make your stances known. The age of silence is over."
He left without waiting.
The lords began to disperse.
Only Durik, Kaia, and Rei remained behind.
"Well," Durik muttered, "that could've gone worse."
"Could it?" Kaia asked.
Rei stared at the obsidian table.
At the empty place where the King had stood.
And he said quietly:
"It wasn't the Rift that scared them."
Durik looked over.
"It was the fire."