Chapter 23: The Hidden Root
The village tavern was not the most logical place to conduct a secret meeting about ancient bloodlines and political conspiracies.
Which is exactly why Elric chose it.
No one would expect a prince-healer, a beastkin rogue, a sarcastic maid, an ex-assassin, a half-possessed kid, and a scholar-elf with a resting-smug-face to be sharing mushroom stew while plotting to undermine the kingdom's shadow games.
But there they were.
Sylas had finally stopped sniffing parchment long enough to sit down. "So," he said, wiping stew from his lip, "you're telling me the Tree of Echoes is one of many?"
"Yes," Elric said calmly. "And each is tied to a bloodline—mine, Cai's, Keera's... maybe even Selene's."
Lira raised a brow. "You left out Veyra."
Veyra, sharpening a knife by the fire, didn't look up. "I have no roots. Just targets."
Cai leaned in. "What happens if all the Trees wake up?"
Elric stared into his bowl, the broth swirling like storm clouds.
"I don't know," he admitted. "But I think the world forgets why they were put to sleep."