---
The hall erupts in fervent cries of "Hope is ours!"
The Elflord's gaze follows Elva—slow, deliberate—from head to toe, then again.
Behind those deep blue eyes, something stirs that hungers for far more than her form.
Raina catches the look. Her brows knit in quiet, unsettled confusion.
High Elf V (Lord Hemonen): (Voice ringing out) I strongly disagree, Your Majesty!
The chamber falls silent in an instant.
Royal Advisor: What is your reason, Lord Hemonen?
High Elf V (Lord Hemonen): (Turning sharply to Elva) With the utmost respect, Your Highness, I advise you to leave matters of grave import to those properly suited for them.
Elva: I don't seem to understand…
High Elf V (Lord Hemonen): With the utmost respect, Your Highness—I must confess your proposal is nothing but nonsense.
Count of Alväin-Central: Hemonen Sach the Fourth! You should know to whom you speak in such a manner…!!
High Elf V (Lord Hemonen): Oh, I know quite well to whom I address my words.
The Royal Advisor opens his mouth to defend her, but the Elflord raises a single gloved finger—silent command. Let the spectacle continue.
High Elf V (Lord Hemonen): A vagabond stands among us, and you permit her to speak on global affairs! Insolence.
Elva: (Under her breath) Vagabond. (A faint, private smirk) [Trust me, old elf—if I were still my former self, you would already be dead.]
Royal Advisor: (Watching her closely) [She isn't offended?]
Madam Raphaela: Watch your tongue, Lord Hemonen. The very "vagabond" you scorn is now of the Imperial House.
High Elf VI: She is also the Yär Vessel—our hope to—
High Elf V (Lord Hemonen): You all speak of hope. Where is the hope when she cannot even protect us?!
Silence crashes down like a curtain.
Then—slow, measured clapping.
The Elflord's hands meet once… twice…
Every head turns.
He stops.
Elflord: A most splendid performance, Lord Hemonen of the Fifth Rank.
High Elf V (Lord Hemonen): (Saluting stiffly) Regal Elflord. I have perhaps spoken too freely—only out of deepest concern for our world.
The Elflord glances down at the Imperial Seal Ring gleaming on his slender finger.
Elflord: (Patient) Lord Hemonen.
He begins to caress the ring with slow, deliberate strokes.
Elflord: You claim the Yang cannot protect us—knowing full well that the Dragon Successors are likewise afflicted in times such as these.
High Elf V (Lord Hemonen): Regal Elflord…
Elflord: Though the Yang stands as my opposite, it remains my other half. What befalls the Yang befalls me in equal measure. Which is to say… you deem me incompetent as your Emperor.
Lord Hemonen drops to his knees, bowing low in terror.
High Elf V (Lord Hemonen): Your Majesty! I was too bold. I deserve death!!
The Elflord pauses.
His eyes flood black—pure, bottomless ink.
Dark Energy ropes erupt from the shadows, coiling around Lord Hemonen's throat like vipers.
They hoist him off the floor.
He dangles, legs kicking, face purpling.
The hall recoils in collective shock.
Elflord: (Calm) I am pleased when one requests his own death.
The words slide through the air like ice. Officials shiver.
High Elf V (Lord Hemonen): (Choking) Y… Y… Your Maj… (gasp) … M-Mercy…
The ropes tighten.
Elva—nudged sharply by the insistent pulse of her Dragon Spirit—can bear it no longer.
She steps onto the vast map platform, placing herself between the choking lord and the throne.
Elva: Al— I mean, Gracious Elflord, show mercy unto your servant. Lord Hemonen Sach the Fourth only worries for Edhel-Ambar. [Yang, what are you making me say 💢?] (Head bowed) Please be merciful… (a gentle glance at Alf) …for my sake. [Why did I say that last part? I didn't mean to say that last part! 😱]
All at once the ropes vanish.
Lord Hemonen crashes to the marble—leg snapping with a sickening crack.
He gasps, clutching his throat.
The Elflord's eyes fade back to piercing blue.
No one dares move to help the fallen lord.
Royal Advisor: Take Lord Hemonen away to be "treated".
Guards: Yë.
Elva: I can—
She feels the weight of Alf's gaze—piercing, calm, unblinking.
Her words die.
Elva: [(internally, pressured) Nope. The Elflord's eyes are the most terrifying beauties.]
She clears her throat, glances awkwardly around the hall.
The Elflord cocks his head just enough to watch the guards carry the broken lord away.
Elflord: (Laced with sarcasm) Be sure to rest well, Lord Hemonen.
He rises from the magnificent throne in one elegant motion.
Elflord: As for the matter at hand… I shall consider it.
He departs.
The Royal Advisor's voice rings out:
Royal Advisor: ALL BOW!
They obey as one.
---
Palace Library
Before an exquisite silver hand-bowl stands the Elflord.
He inclines his palm; the water within spirals upward in a slow, hypnotic helix.
General Tyrên: …It is indeed an honour to be acknowledged by His Majesty.
Royal Commandant Philip and Elva— .
Narrator: …or should I say "Her Highness"?
Elva: [Don't you dare 😠.]
Narrator: 😄😜
—enter together
Royal Commandant Philip: We are here as you requested, Your Majesty.
Philip and General Tyrên exchange a fleeting glance—then look sharply away.
The tension is thick enough to taste.
Elva notices instantly.
Elva: (Nudging her head subtly toward Philip, whispering) Ooh. Seems you just met an ooold friend.
Royal Commandant Philip: (Face blank, gently shoving her head aside) What did you wish to discuss, Your Majesty?
Elva: (Rubbing her head, clicking her tongue in annoyance).
Elflord: The leakage in HemTop has not been sealed, has it?
General Tyrên: (Quiet). You suspect the Settlement Prince of HemTop.
Elflord: ( Nodding once). King Balin commands more allies than we anticipated.
Royal Commandant Philip: I observed several officials grow uneasy when Her Highness proposed her plan.
Elva: [I still don't understand why I need to be tangled in this political mess.]
The spiralling water stills as the Elflord closes his hand.
Elflord: Fools. Her plan serves merely as diversion. (Turning to face them) Are the Global Knight Branches and Barracks fully active?
General Tyrên: Not entirely, Your Majesty. After the last global invasion, we suffered grievous losses. Every land was affected…
Royal Commandant Philip: All except the Elädorn Tribe. The secret backbone of Elfland.
Elflord: (Thumb slowly rubbing his knuckle) Then I wonder if… (he pauses, lost in thought)
Elva studies their solemn faces for a beat.
Elva: Hold up. (They turn to her) If you're all thinking of forging some agreement with the Continent that deliberately excludes the Imperial House… you're wasting your efforts.
General Tyrên: May I ask what you mean, Your Highness?
Royal Commandant Philip: True. After the Time of Shatters, the Elädorn Tribe abandoned the pathway through the Hazar Fõr, shutting out the outer world.
Elva: They allow only Elädorn Tribe elves in… (Mutters) And never out.
NOTE: Hazar Fõr — "Shadowy Forest"
A perilous, eerie woodland teeming with strange beasts
—the sole passage into or out of the Elädorn Tribe.
Before the Time of Shatters, Elädorn elves guided outsiders safely through its depths.
After the Shatters… they ceased.
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