There were only seven votes left, but all Drakili needed to do was gain one more vote to put the election to a stalemate.
But Eliron calmly observed as the next elder stood up.
He could see Drakili smiling, rejoicing that he had the election in the bag.
'He most likely threatened this elder as well.' Eliron mused as the man walked forward.
The elder stood there for a few seconds, and it was as though the air hung still.
The elves were already grumbling words of protest, their discontent towards the chiefs growing by the second.
Drakili smiled. "You had a good ru—"
"I vote Lord Eliron."
The crowd grew silent just before exploding in a wave of cheers. The confluence was only half way done, yet they were ecstatic that they still had a fighting chance.
"What is the meaning of this?" Drakili muttered, unable to believe what was happening.
