Accessing Thswoner's memories revealed the elven lords' astonishment at the event in stark clarity. Garhlieash rose from his chair. The others shifted uncomfortably; a tension settled over them that the chill of the newly fallen night could not dispel.
"If you had been fully present, you would have killed him," Garhlieash said, looking at his friend. He was certain of it. The others were as well. Thswoner merely nodded.
"Then Baræshadã… is it his fault? Some remnant of his vile thoughts?" Iaraelesh's gaze was filled with terror, but Garhlieash spoke again, gripping the black sword:
"We will descend upon Namar-Kheph—all of us—and end this. He will have no chance." Thswoner thought the same; he had sworn to the creature that he would return. Yet this eagerness did not sit well with some present.
Viaeeshs withdrew his gaze from the stars and fixed it on the proud, strength-loving council companion.
"The creature evolved rapidly during its brief combat with Thswoner," he said, his tone less shocked and more curious. "It is absurdly impressive and uncommon. Something drives it." He recalled the moment Kharvathar had stood motionless while the elven companion conversed with the pharaoh. Finally, Viaeeshs looked at the elf who had fought the enemy.
"One should not admire the evolution of evil, Viaeeshs—only consider how to exterminate it before it becomes a greater problem. I agree with Garhlieash," the aged Bielassh said. Her voice was slightly hoarse yet powerful. She opened her eyes—physically blind. Yet she turned her face directly toward Jóarnaliel and continued:
"Whatever that human priestess has done, she has committed a grave sin. That is why our plan failed." To the old elf, it had been an insult.
The ancient elf, Jóarnaliel, had remained silent, listening to his companions and thinking. His face had grown deeply serious as he stroked the beard along his chin.
Then Fiaeliosh, the ascetic—who sat with arms crossed and an apathetic expression—commented:
"Baræshadã has not returned. It is impossible." He knew this fear lingered in every mind. In a way, this dread was worse for them than the mere existence of Kharvathar.
A great gust of wind swept through the place, swaying the long hair and robes of the leaders present. The stars already shone in the dark, clear sky; white flowers blooming near the sacred water's outflow illuminated the surroundings with soft light.
"We cannot invade Namar-Kheph. Uras'Diptsur was quite clear when he expelled Thswoner," Jóarnaliel said calmly.
"It was an affront to our alliance—to our ancestors who died protecting them," Garhlieash snorted. Bielassh nodded silently in agreement. Iaraelesh preferred to remain quiet.
"We all saw how he accused us of betraying them first," Viaeeshs pointed out with a subtle smile.
"It only shows the humans' lack of understanding of us," Thswoner said, requesting his friend return the sword. Garhlieash sat after handing it over.
"Yes, we withdrew and ignored nearly every request from them. That is very difficult for them to comprehend…" Viaeeshs did not agree. "Was that not why you exiled your own daughter—for aiding the prince?" He kept his face calm under Thswoner's stern gaze.
"Prudence, friends," Jóarnaliel requested, placing his arms on the table and leaning forward. He rubbed his hands along his arms within his whitish-purple robe. It was not cold—it was worry. He sighed, remained silent for a time, then straightened his back in the chair and spoke:
"Some among them have committed sins—through selfishness or ignorance. But to initiate a conflict with them would be our sin." He raised his left hand quickly, preventing the others from speaking, signaling them to wait until he finished.
"A creature of chaos has gained consciousness and human form. A dragon, son of Baræshadã. Tonight we must decide whether the four virtues will grant us a path to resolution that honors the ancient laws. Or, because they have allied with Kharvathar, we shall have the right to use any means to eliminate this evil."
The other six agreed in unison.