Chapter 20: The Malicious
The reception hall was a tree.
Not a hall in a tree. The tree was the hall. Its trunk had been hollowed by time or magic, and inside, silver lanterns hung from branches that curved into a ceiling. Wood Elves in living silks moved between the roots-turned-tables.
Lira wore the best she had.
It was not enough.
She could feel their eyes. Not hostile. Curious. Like she was a creature they had read about but never seen.
"Half-breed," someone whispered.
She didn't turn.
Adrian walked beside her. He wore the Beacon persona now—white mask, blue eyes, halo dimmed to a whisper. His voice came out different. Calm. Unreachable.
"Eyes forward," he said.
She obeyed.
Aryan was already across the room. Smiling. Talking to an elf woman who kept touching his arm.
He's working.
Lira looked away.
Cling.
A glass chimed.
The room went quiet.
He stepped through a door that hadn't been there a moment before.
Kuiji Illius.
He was shorter than the other Wood Elves. His hair was white, pulled back with a silver ring. His eyes were the color of old honey. He wore simple robes—gray, unadorned.
He looked like a scholar.
He smiled like a grandfather.
"Welcome," he said. His voice was soft. Warm. "Welcome to Vertia."
He walked through the crowd. People parted for him. Not from fear.
From deference.
He stopped before Adrian.
"The Beacon." He inclined his head. "I have heard much about you."
"All lies, I'm sure." Adrian's masked voice was flat.
Kuiji's smile widened. "Of course."
Then his eyes moved.
To Lira.
And the smile did not change.
But something behind it did.
"And you must be Lira."
She said nothing.
"I have heard everything about you."
A pause.
Drip.
The sound of honey falling.
No. Not honey.
Sap.
From the ceiling. From the branches.
Lira looked up.
The tree was bleeding.
Kuiji laughed. Soft. Warm.
"Don't mind that. Old wood. It weeps when it's happy."
He turned. Walked toward a table. Gestured for them to follow.
"Come. Sit. Eat. We have much to discuss."
The food was strange. Mushrooms that glowed. Bread that tasted of earth. Wine that was almost too sweet.
Kuiji ate slowly. Deliberately.
"You want to end the slave trade," he said.
"Yes." Adrian's mask did not move.
"Why?"
"Because it's wrong."
Kuiji tilted his head. "Wrong?"
He set down his fork.
"Slavery is not cruelty, Beacon. It is efficiency. The strong managing the weak. The capable directing the incapable."
His eyes found Lira.
"Some people are born to serve. It is not a punishment. It is their nature."
Crack.
Aryan's fork broke.
He was still smiling.
"Apologies," he said. "Weak metal."
Kuiji looked at the broken fork. Then at Aryan.
"No apology needed."
He rose.
"The reception continues until dawn. Please, enjoy Vertia's hospitality."
He walked toward the door.
Stopped.
Turned.
"Lira."
She froze.
"I knew your mother."
The room went silent.
"She was... resilient."
He smiled.
"I look forward to seeing if you inherited that."
Then he was gone.
Lira sat at the table.
Her hands were shaking.
Adrian said nothing.
Aryan stopped smiling.