The silence was broken only by the murmurs that began to ripple through the chamber when the words "Cursed Lotus" left Elise's lips. The voices intertwined in low tones, thick with suspicion and unease. Some members present exchanged quick glances; others furrowed their brows, as if the mere mention of that sect was enough to make the air heavier.
The Baron kept his posture, but inside he felt the tension rise. The accusation was not yet proof… but now his name was being publicly tied to something many considered a direct affront to the great orders.
The Interlocutor raised his hand for silence. The command reverberated through the hall, and the murmurs gradually died down.
"Baron Hoffmann…" — his deep voice cut through the air like a blade — "…the Council awaits your answer."
The Baron took a slow breath, maintaining a smile that seemed more forced with each passing second.
"Mr. Interlocutor…" he began, weighing each word, "…I would, of course, never involve myself with something as… repulsive as this so-called 'Cursed Lotus.' I have no connection with such people, nor did I order any attack on this family. As for what was said by those two mages… it is not my place to accuse or contradict members of the Tower of Wisdom. I simply state that there has been a mistake."
He paused briefly, his eyes sweeping over the faces before him.
"I can assure you that I have enemies… and some would be willing to invent anything to defame me. Perhaps that is the case here."
The Interlocutor studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he turned toward the highest seats in the chamber.
"Honored Elders…" he announced with a slight bow of his head, "…the Council will now begin deliberations."
A heavy stillness fell over the hall. The four figures seated in the elevated chairs exchanged glances, and the sound of a chair shifting echoed — the sign that the first voice was about to rise and weigh in on the fate of Baron Hoffmann.
Elder Nefertiti leaned back slightly in her chair, her delicate hands resting upon the gold-carved armrests. Her gaze swept the chamber before settling on the young red-haired boy. When she spoke, her voice was soft and almost angelic, cutting through the tension like a ray of sunlight filtering through an ancient window.
"Elian…" she said, pronouncing his name with a tenderness that contrasted with the gravity of the hearing, "…please accept my most sincere condolences. You are far too young to bear such a cruel burden, and I deeply regret that you have already been exposed to such pain."
Elian kept his composure, but a knot formed in his throat.
Nefertiti then shifted her gaze to Elise, her tone still serene, though more solemn.
"Mage Elise, your words carry considerable weight. Such accusations against a noble and member of the realm are grave and cannot be ignored." She paused briefly, allowing the tension to settle. "However, the absence of objective proof prevents us from issuing a conviction at this time. An investigation is the most prudent course, so that the truth may be uncovered without unjustly tarnishing someone's name."
Elian and Elise exchanged a quick glance, both with frustration written on their faces. Even so, they bowed respectfully to the elder, controlling their emotions in the name of protocol.
Prime Minister Ralf Von Bauer leaned slightly forward, his plump hands resting on the dark wooden table. The golden lamplight danced in his green-scarlet eyes, making them almost hypnotic.
"I fully agree with Elder Nefertiti's words," he said, his tone grave and calculated. "There is no denying that the account is serious, but without concrete evidence, our duty is to maintain impartiality. The justice of the realm cannot rely solely on testimony, however respectable it may be."
He then turned his gaze to Elise, and for an instant his lips formed what could have been a smile — though without a shred of warmth.
"I recommend that the investigation be conducted with due diligence. Should anything be proven, the Arcane Council will have every means to act with full severity."
Elian kept his back straight, though he felt the weight of each word like a shove against his hopes. Beside him, Elise gave a small nod, keeping control, but inwardly she was already calculating her next move.
Elder Azemir, still seated with perfect posture and a stern countenance, took several seconds before speaking. His deep, watchful eyes turned to Elise, then to Elian, as if weighing every invisible detail of the situation.
"I do not like to see young people caught up in such petty disputes… especially when those disputes threaten families who have nothing to do with political games," his voice was firm, yet carried a certain respect. "I do not believe Elise's words are frivolous. I know her record, and I know she would not stoop to baseless accusations."
He paused briefly, letting his gaze drift for a moment toward Baron Hoffmann, studying him as one might test the weight of a coin.
"However…" he resumed in a controlled tone, "…the absence of proof binds us with the same chains already mentioned. The Council must safeguard justice, and without solid evidence, we must proceed with caution."
Though his words aligned with the judgments of Nefertiti and the Prime Minister, there was a different weight to them — the sense that, beneath the neutrality, Azemir was not entirely convinced of the Baron's innocence.
Elian sensed it, and for a moment, his frustration gave way to a flicker of hope. Elise, still bowing, noticed clearly that Azemir was observing more than he let on.
The silence after Azemir's words was broken by the faint creak of a chair. Marduk calmly uncrossed his legs, his red eyes fixed on Baron Hoffmann as though he could pierce him to the core. His face remained impassive, but the faintest curve of a sadistic smile formed on his lips.
He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and laced his fingers before his face, leaning slightly forward. When his voice came, it was deep, deliberate, and so cold it seemed to make the air in the hall heavier.
"It is clear…" — he let the words hang before continuing — "…that the Baron is guilty."
A murmur rippled through the assembly, but Marduk did not break his gaze from his prey.
"However…" he went on, dragging the word out almost theatrically, "…the absence of concrete proof forces us to wear the mask of impartiality. Not by choice… but by duty."
Baron Hoffmann, who until then had maintained a carefully composed air of outrage, opened his mouth to respond, his face marked by a false look of indignation.
"This is absurd! I—" he began, but never finished.
"I did not give you the floor." Marduk's voice turned sharp, dry, and irrefutable. The words cracked through the chamber like the snap of a whip.
Hoffmann clenched his jaw, swallowing back the reply that threatened to escape, while the Elder's unflinching gaze remained fixed on him.
"As I was saying…" Marduk resumed with calculated disdain, "…the lack of proof forces us not to act. But let no one here be deceived. Proof is fragile, malleable… and the truth, Baron, always finds a way to come to light."
He leaned back slowly, crossing his legs again as if the matter were now closed. The faint smile remained, making it clear his words carried both a judgment and a veiled threat.
The silence that followed was almost suffocating.
Baron Hoffmann sat frozen in his chair, but his clenched jaw betrayed the fury he struggled to hide. His once-arrogant, provoking gaze was now slightly clouded, as though he was calculating every word he dared not say. Yet behind his eyes there was still a venomous glint — a silent promise that this affront would not be forgotten.
From where he stood, Elian watched everything intently. Upon hearing Marduk, he felt something strange — not fear, but a curious mix of security and unease. The Elder of the Dark Throne spoke like someone who knew the innermost workings of human malice, and somehow that made it feel as though the Baron would not escape punishment forever. A faint flicker of gold and black glimmered in his eyes, but vanished as quickly as it came.
The silence in the hall was so thick one could hear the distant crackle of the magical torches.
The Interlocutor rose, adjusting the folds of his ceremonial robe before delivering the verdict:
"After reviewing this hearing, and due to the absence of objective evidence supporting the accusations… the Council declares Baron Hoffmann acquitted of all charges."
A slow smile, heavy with satisfaction, spread across the Baron's lips. It was not merely a gesture of victory; it was a silent challenge thrown at Elise and Elian.
"This hearing is adjourned," the Interlocutor concluded, his voice echoing off the chamber walls.
The Elders began to rise, their robes brushing over the polished marble floor. The Prime Minister adjusted his gloves, ready to depart, while the rhythmic steps of the guards blended with the muffled murmur of discreet conversations.
Elian, however, remained still. Since the moment Marduk had spoken, his eyes had not left him for a second. And now, when protocol demanded silence and composure, he did the unthinkable:
"Marduk…" he called, his voice firm, breaking decorum like a sword striking a shield.
The effect was immediate.
All the Elders stopped. The Prime Minister raised his eyebrows. Baron Hoffmann turned sharply, frowning with disdain. Even the Interlocutor hesitated mid-step.
From above, still seated with his legs crossed, the Elder of the Dark Throne tilted his head slightly, his red eyes gleaming under the magical light. A faint, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips before he replied, in a low tone that nonetheless carried through the entire hall:
"What do you want, boy?"
And then, the silence reclaimed the chamber — thick and heavy, like the air before a storm.