Joshua's pen paused. He looked at me and asked, "So what did you think of the Rite, sir?"
That question had weight.
Because I hadn't asked it of myself honestly even after all these year.
I wasn't sure back then, but after her death... It changed. There was nothing left to do, nothing else as an answer.
It had to be done now. So, I did what was asked of me, and what was necessary.
I inhaled slowly.
The restaurant hummed around us, but I spoke as if the council chamber still held us.
"I told them what they wanted to hear," I said at last. "Publicly, I was neutral. Practical. I repeated the arguments... the need to prepare, the dangers if we did nothing, the logistics of oversight. It was the safe position. It let me keep a foot in both camps."
Joshua's pen scratched lightly against the paper, he didn't look surprised. He had seen me play that hand before.
"In private," I went on, "I felt like I had been offered a choice that had no clean edges. My duty to the kingdom's stability pulled one way. And the connection I had with Allysane, along with my morals tugged another. We had always told ourselves that we served the realm. But when the realm asks you to risk a child, the argument becomes small and filthy."
The logic to bind early with the ritual had a cold, clinical clarity that made it terrifyingly persuasive.
The duskren threat this time could be big, no... it most probably was.
And yet, I couldn't forget the other side. That of a child yet to be born.
Joshua swallowed.
He tapped the pen once, twice.
"So what did I think?" I repeated, a little harsher. "I thought the Rite might save us if the Duskren threat was what the visions hinted at. I thought training, preparation, binding,whatever name we gave it would increase the odds. I also thought it might break us in ways we couldn't repair."
There was a long pause.
Outside, rain drummed the window. Inside, the broth cooled between us.
"I was certain of nothing," I admitted, voice low. "No one was. Only that the world they feared was not something I was prepared to let happen without a damned fight. That... and that I would regret the answer, whatever it turned out to be."
"Anyways," I said, leaning back slightly, my voice steady but distant, "It was about a month before the due date when House Mnemosyne requested an urgent council meeting."
Joshua's pen paused mid air, hovering.
He knew enough by now that urgent and Mnemosyne in the same sentence rarely meant anything good.
"It wasn't unexpected," I continued, my gaze drifting to the window. The rain outside had softened into a fine mist, like it was listening too. "By then, the rumours had already grown claws. Everyone had heard something about the Duskren, about the visions, about the heir. The court was like a pot left to simmer too long."
He nodded, not daring to interrupt.
"The council chamber was full that day," I said. "The room was stifling, not because of the heat but because everyone was pretending to be calm."
I took a sip from the cup in front of me. The drink had gone cold, but the memory hadn't.
-----
I remember the morning clearly.
It had rained through the night, the kind of steady drizzle that makes even the stone feel tired. By dawn, the courtyards were still slick, the air cold enough to make you think twice before breathing too deeply.
When House Mnemosyne called for an urgent council meeting, the summons came sealed in blue wax.
Their sigil pressed deep into the envelope.
When that sigil comes to your door, you don't wait to open it.
Everyone knew what it meant.
By mid morning, the capital was stirring. Carriages lined the wet streets outside the Hall of Voices, guards doubled at every gate.
No one said it aloud, but we all felt it... the whisper had become a question.
And now someone had decided it needed an answer.
I wasn't high enough in rank to sit at that table back then.
Twenty five years younger, and still learning when to keep my mouth shut.
Every lord was present.
Mnemosyne, Cygne, Volundr, Orien, and the others, old rivals and friends alike forced into one room by something larger than themselves.
Except one, the one who stirred it all. Matriarch Oneir.
This was odd, but no one questioned it.
The Queen Allysane sat at the head, pale from the weight she carried, but not frail.
Whispers stopped.
Chairs straightened.
For a heartbeat, no one spoke.
And then the questions began.
Lord Mnemosyne rose first.
He didn't waste time.
" We have reviewed every transcript from the previous council, tried to interpret the vision, and even analysed every pattern the elders had documented for generations. " He paused, his eyes roaming on everyone else, " And the conclusion was simple... the signs pointed to something imminent. Something that couldn't wait for the child to grow, or for politics to settle. The war could be upon us anytime."
" And what do you suggest? The rumours?? " Another voice cute in.
The reply came back from House Mnemosyne, sharp as a blade.
"Yes. Bind him early. Strip him of weakness before weakness roots itself."
Gasps stirred the room. A Lady of House Cygne snapped her fan shut.
"You would risk the life of the only heir before he can even walk? Madness."
Mnemosyne's Lord did not blink. His words pressed hard, like he meant to drive them into the marrow.
"Madness is to wait. To gamble. You all heard the Matriarch. If he falters, the Duskren win. Tell me, which of your Houses will shield your bloodlines then? Which of you will be left to argue about mercy?"
A younger Lord of House Volundr shifted uncomfortably, his voice low but steady.
"Even if the boy survives the rite, what then? You would raise a king out of fear, not strength. Chains, not choice."
Mnemosyne struck back at once.
"Better chains than a crown of ash. Or do you prefer to wait until his weakness buries us all?"
"Even then, are we sure about this desperate step? Do we really need that?" Lord Volundr asked, his voice cautious.
"Again. Even if we wait, it's a gamble. And as previously stated by Lord Mnemosyne ...the previous records have mentioned it clearly. Every duskren war has been won only by the ritual." Lady Thantys spoke.
The chamber filled with noise...chairs scraping, voices overlapping.
Some in favor, some outraged.
And then Allysane's voice cut through...
"You speak of my son as though he is yours to wager." She paused, "He is not. The vision did not say he must suffer this ritual. It said he is second to none. That is his destiny, and I will not gamble it away on your fears."
Mnemosyne's Lord rose half out of his chair, his palm flat on the table.
"Your mother said it herself, this war will be graver than all before. And yet you would hide behind sentiment? If we are not ready, Allysane, then we are already defeated."
"Queen Allysane" , she replied coldly. "The heir is yet to be born, and you will speak with respect my lord." Her jaw was tight, her hands white against the armrest of her chair.
For a moment, no one answered.
Finally, she stood.
"This meeting is ended. I will not debate the life of my child like a coin tossed on a table. I am unwell. I need time."
And she left, the sound of her steps sharp against the stone.
----
I drew a long breath, dragging myself back to the present.
Joshua was leaning forward, his eyes wide as though he had been in the chamber himself.
"That," I said quietly, "was the day the whispers became louder. The day the ritual was no longer just an old name"
I rubbed my temple,"The next day," I said slowly, "everything changed again."
Joshua straightened, pen poised.
"Allysane called me. She didn't call the court, not her advisers, not even the elders of House Oneir. But Me." I let out a breath, shaking my head. "I never knew why. Maybe she wanted someone outside the circle of power. Maybe she just… trusted me more than she ever admitted. Or maybe she simply needed someone who would listen."
Joshua tilted his head, curiosity flickering across his face.
"I told you yesterday," I said, "my relationship with her was complicated. I tried to hate her for years, but it never worked."
My childhood wasn't her fault, but I needed somewhere to put my anger. And she was always there... bright like a sun.
So I tried.
And I failed.
I shifted in my seat, the memory heavy enough to slow my voice.
"She sat me down that morning, pale as milk but with her eyes sharp as ever. And she told me she had seen a vision herself last night. This one without a ritual in her sleep. Her words stuck with me. She said she dreamt of two paths... one where her son fought until his last breath against the Duskren but she couldn't decipher if we won, and another…"
I hesitated, the sound of the rain outside louder now, as if it remembered with me.
"Another where we certainly won and he wore the crown, as our king. He was feared, obeyed, and the world bent to him but not as their monarch. ecause he was no longer a human. Now, if we were able to take care of him or not, that remained uncertain as well. "
" You mean," Joshua took a cold breath, "the dark side consumed him?"
I just nodded.
Joshua's hand jerked slightly, his pen scratching across the paper.
He didn't look up, but I saw his knuckles whiten.
"She didn't know which was true," I went on. "Didn't know what choice would make it so. Only that both futures existed, and both hinged on him."
The vision spoke of two paths...
One where he was human, and he fought to his last breath but whether we were successful or not. No one knows.
Second, where the ritual succeeded and we won but the heir is consumed by corruption. The future ahead of that was foggy.
Both the situations were half baked, and any decision could lead to disaster. One no one was ready was.