Thalatha parted the vines with a whisper-soft gesture. "Elders' Hall," she announced, voice almost reverent.
Inside awaited a dome of living crystal bark. Threads of light ran through the grain like molten metal under glass. Five circular platforms rose from the floor in a star pattern, each host to an Elder. They looked less like leaders and more like elemental forces wearing elf-shaped shells.
The first Elder floated several inches above his platform. Spores drifted from his sleeves in lazy drifts, catching the green glow and turning it milk-white. With every exhale the motes formed swirling diagrams before dissolving—living cloud mathematics. A subtle perfume of crushed pine needles surrounded him.
