She nodded, and the glass was taken back by the handmaiden, silence, a thing that quickly returned to the solemn walk.
My objectives for today are simple: Save Kabel, somehow. That and only that.
The hallway ended, emerging into a large crossroads. Ahead, a meter away, was a vast blackened gate, rippling—Eltium. A massive thing that stood as a mountain. And there, staring at it, Ivory sensed a recalled question: Who could push that gate?
Besides, always waiting there were the deadEyes. Some dressed in the known colors of Valor—black—and others in varying shades. They were owned, likely by the Attendees. Red, white, yellow. Even one was wrapped in a foamy chalky garment, white and inlaid with golden patterns.
She knew those colors. Those were of the Honor clan!
They came! she thought. Good!
Then there was blue, a deadEye with a cerulean coat. Riverend? She pondered, or was it of the vileStorm clan? Often, the clans existed with their hues owed by yet another clan. Never a Great Clan, but surely a vassal one.
So, which was it? Riverend or vileSto—
A voice shouted from within. "YOU ARE PRESENTED NOW, IVORY VALOR, FUTURE PROTECTOR OF THE ASHMOUNTAINS AND THE REALM. GRAND WARDEN OF STONE BASTION, GREAT BLACKSMITH OF IRON SHIRE. DAUGHTER TO GLADWELL VALOR, GRANDDAUGHTER TO AELINOR VALOR. GREATEST OF THE NORTH. AND HERE SHE COMES!"
The great gate parted, creaking, heavy. And suddenly, from beside her, a figure blurred two meters off the ground, floating. A woman, dressed in a tight black robe, her hands fluffy and wide like the wings of a bird. Her hair was black, with each strand's end aglow with a lustrous white. Her legs, as always, were left bare, and the eyes... that was a shade of cerulean tint, like sealed oceans.
Rhaena Valor!
Her skin glowed with that subtle glint.
She rolled in the air, smiled, and said, "My present to you."
What?
The Earth erupted into a garland of flora. Red, blue, green, purple. Drifting down from the sky, opening with innards of radiant light. The scent, too—now that was a trance of internal glee. Ivory smiled and said, "Beauty!" Around her were dots of light, not servs, just brilliance.
Mesmerizing.
She stepped forward, the wreath expanding outwards, trailing patterns across the walls, the great gate, the large pillars of the grand hall. Everything was encrusted in the adornments. Everyone, from that moment, was locked on the singular figure.
A woman, dressed in white, walking on a bed of flora. Some bowed to the scene—Merchant lords and the like. Many were awed by it. Within the colossal heights and widths of the hall, the totality was nearly crowded, and in their midst sauntered a woman: Ivory Valor.
Above, floating high in the sky, was Rhaena. A considerate attribute present in her actions. After all, despite the grace now created by her symbol, a simple glance from the ones below would steal the fame away from the highHeir.
That could not be allowed. For today, Ivory would be the only one that mattered. Below her, the foliage distended, each step creating a spread of color in all directions. All eyes were on her. Hers, however, were on another: the high seats.
There stood Argon and Mother Samara. Argon, as expected, wore a side-buttoned black coat with silver patterns running down its form. A cape of the same hue stretched down behind him. Samara, on the other hand, wore an angular black dress, a bodice wrapped around her chest, with transparent sleeves reaching down.
Her eyes offered that piercing coldness.
Ivory reached them, stood. Argon was on the step, looking down on her. Funny, undoubtedly, this action would one day be done by her.
If I gave birth to a woman, that is.
Argon smiled, his dark eyes beaming with power. "THIS IS MY DAUGHTER, WITH WHOM I AM PROUD. SHE IS THE NEXT AND SURE HIGHNESS OF THE GREAT CLAN, VALOR OF CINTRY RANGE. SHE IS THE NEW METAL THAT MEETS THE FIRE. THE WARDEN. THE ONE WHOSE KEYS ARE HANDED TO. SHE IS VALOR!"
There was silence in the air; even the flora had halted in their expansion. Argon continued. "VALOR HAS BEEN COUNTLESSLY TESTED BY THE HEAT. BY THE REDNESS!"
Ivory grasped the words—redness. A term likely to point at the Odium clan and their supposed action during the redNight.
"THIS IS MY DAUGHTER... WHO WILL RULE. WITHOUT PAIN. WITHOUT DEATH. WITHOUT LOSS. SHE WILL RULE. WITHOUT THE SCHEMES OF HATE. SHE WILL RULE. BY THE WILL OF THE ALMIGHTY, SHE WILL RULE!" He paused. "VASSALS OF VALOR, SWEAR YOUR FEALTY!"
A tenseness surged in the air—eyes passing between the attendees. All prime and ready for unknown motions. Ivory could not see their faces, but their murmurs she could hear.
Was it time for the dangerous questions? Was it time for chaos?
She wondered about praying. After all, at this junction was danger. The first Clan to submit would have claimed itself a side, a thing that would remain unchangeable. Therefore, they would remain like spies to the other vassals.
What if that one tells the Highness of our plans?
That would be their thoughts.
Thus, the first clan to submit meant a position that would remain so forever—until her death, that is.
The danger in this was that the total refusal from the Vassal clans meant... WAR! If none of the Vassal clans accepted her, Argon would not recede his words. The end? Chaos. Death and war.
Just drown your pride, you old men, and do what is right! Ivory felt like screaming the words. To shove it down the throats of the Leeches. All of them—Blackwood, Strongsteel, Wane.
Mist them all!
A voice erupted from the crowd. "THIS IS NOT THE TRUE WAY!"
What? She jerked.
A dark-haired man with strands of white, black eyes, and a cold look on his features. Dressed in a black coat, a silver jacket atop it all. Rather fashionable.
Ivory turned, familiar with the voice. She started. There, standing on the spread of foliage, was Lord Wane of the Vassal Clan. Both arms crossed behind him, his mannerisms casting a sense of acceptance.
What is he doing? Awareness registered a possibility. NO!
"We cannot allow this person to take the seat of Valor." He lingered over the last words, highlighting them. "Not when Wane, the trueborns, chosen by Eidan, remain." He unfurled his hands; out from them was a whitish-brown scroll, ancient from the wear across its form. It opened, rolling. "These are the words of Eidan, himself. Valor is to be given to Wane. Not them... NOT HER!"
Silence answered his words. Not even a stutter echoed from the crowd.
What happens now?
Dangerous questions would be asked.
Something changed.
Be it in the taste of the air, the feel of the flesh, or the colors of the world. Something had changed. Almost like an inkling of a coming danger. A storm that brewed, waiting for the soul that it may soon claim.
Argon!
"YOU DARE COME HERE WITH THAT SCRAP OF PAPER?" The hall rumbled; none moved to the trembling. "YOU? A MERE LORD. A FALSE WARDEN. WHAT AN INSULT TO THE CAST THAT A MIND LIKE THIS COULD EXIST. A MIND INCAPABLE OF THE PROCESSION OF ALTERNATIVES!"
Wane gritted his teeth, an odd expression on the usually stoic man. Again, there was that air of acceptance to him. Something was planned in his actions. What was it?
He screamed. "IF THIS WOMAN IS TO BE THE TRUE RULER OF VALOR, WHY THEN DOES SHE CONSPIRE WITH THE THEOCRACY? WITH AN ARDENT!"
Ivory startled—a mistake. In an instant, all eyes were on her. Countless pupils of varying shades that devoured the external stimuli for information. They knew. That simple, expressive action revealed answers to the claims made by Lord Wane. No need existed for proof or refusal. Every mind within this room would come to a similar conclusion:
Ivory had aligned herself with the Church. And that could not be allowed. It was a simple matter, really. Each Clan maintained a delicate balance of power—power that often the church helped in keeping in check. Thus, none of the Great Clans had openly arrayed with the Theocracy. To do so was to claim their power. To claim conspiracy.
Lords, what has this man done!
Even Mother endured the silence in this situation. A horrible thing. One could only imagine the consequences of this revelation. What happens now?
Argon sighed. "You come here, making up words, claiming some invisible unity."
He was trying to quell the fire.
"You know it is not, Argon." Boldly, he called the Highness by his name. "You know that your niece came and held a private meeting with the Aspirant."
"Perhaps with my order."
No!
"I see." Wane smiled. "Which means you, too, stand in connection to this." He turned, regarding the grander room. "You see the wisdom of Eidan. This was the outcome of the continuous refusal of his written words. There, the high family destroys Valor from the inside."