Page 19 of Beyond the Treaty
“This thing,” she murmurs softly, almost to herself. “It changes everything.”
I move to the hearth and start working the old kindling, needing something to occupy my hands. Sparks crackle to life beneath my blade, and soon, a small fire flickers, illuminating the room. “It changes nothing yet,” I correct her. “Right now, it’s just knowledge. Dangerous, yes, but powerless without action.”
Elara looks up at me, her eyes sharp despite her weariness. “Then we act. You said the Council’s power has cracks in its foundation. This, ” she gestures to the tome, “is the first one we can pry open.”
I let out a low, approving hum. “We will, but not tonight.”
She scowls at that, her frustration evident. “We can’t afford to wait. You said it yourself, every day that passes, the Council becomes stronger. And Kaelen, ”
I raise a hand to stop her. “And if we go after them half- prepared, we’ll lose everything, including the chance to save Kaelen. I know you’re ready to fight, but rushing in blind is exactly what they want. The Council thrives on recklessness.”
Her fists clench at her sides, and I see her defiance flare for a moment. But she bites back her protest, turning to gaze into the fire. I can see the tension in her shoulders, the weight she’s carrying pressing down on her like a heavy shroud. She cares for Kaelen; that much is clear. I can’t blame her for it, even if that bond complicates everything.
I step closer, my voice softening. “We’ll tear them down, Elara. Piece by piece, brick by brick. But we’ll do it wisely, and we’ll win.”
Her gaze flickers towards me, doubt and resolve to battle in her expression. “Are you sure?”
I meet her gaze. “I’ve spent years studying the Council, waiting for a chance like this. And you, ” I pause, my lips curling into a faint, dark smile. “They have no idea what you’re capable of yet. That’s our advantage.”
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The fire crackles softly, enveloping the space between us with its warmth. Finally, she exhales, releasing some of the tension from her frame. “Fine. So what’s the plan?”
“Rest,” I reply succinctly. Her brow furrows, clearly unim- pressed, but I continue before she can argue. “You’re no use to anyone if you’re dead on your feet. Tomorrow, we’ll determine our next move. But for tonight, you need sleep.”
She gazes at me momentarily, as if trying to decide if I’m serious. Then, with hesitation, she nods.
“Where?” she asks.
I gesture toward a small room adjoining the hall, its door slightly ajar. “There. It’s not much, but it’s better than the ground.”
She gives me a sceptical look but doesn’t argue. As she leaves, I speak again, this time with a softer tone.
“Elara...”
She halts, glancing back at me.
“You performed admirably tonight,” I say, maintaining her
gaze. “Most people would have faltered under less.” Something flickers in her expression, perhaps surprise or something she isn’t ready to name. She doesn’t reply but slightly dips her head in acknowledgement before vanishing
into the room.
Once she’s gone, I let out a slow breath and sink into one
of the worn chairs by the fire. The crimson tome rests on the table, its presence a dark promise. I stare at it, the flames casting shifting shadows across its gilded edges.
The Council’s secrets belong to us now, a weapon they never anticipated losing. When the time arrives, I will make them regret ever underestimating us.
The fire dims further, shadows swallowing the room as the night deepens. I glance towards the room where Elara is. She’s already changing, becoming something they’ll regret ever provoking.
But even though she’s behind the door, I can’t ignore my gaze. A part of me wants to follow her, to say something, reassure her, and stop her from carrying even a sliver of this weight alone. Another part of me knows better. No matter how much I wish I could, I can’t fix this for her.
I lean back in the chair, my eyes drifting to the embers in the hearth. For a moment, I let my mind wander to a dangerous place, a place I rarely allow myself to go.
It terrifies me.
I’ve spent my life standing on the edge of war, dancing with danger as if it were an old friend. I’ve lost good people to this struggle, and I vowed never to let anyone matter enough to become a weakness.
Elara is not a weakness. She is something much worse.