Echoes of Harmony

Enwenys Palace

Mythal Saenora

10 Erebos 253

Naynn strode through the halls of the palace, being careful to move neither too fast nor too slow. The walls were fashioned of a mixture of glass and stone, creating intricate patterns that weaved and danced. In some places, they glittered like the countless stars of the Cosmic Void. In others, they simply gleamed with extravagance.

No one else was in the halls, which did not surprise the Custodian. It was not every day that they went to war. After all, it had been two hundred and sixty since the end of their last one. The one that had led to his own ascent to power. That thought made him grimace. He inherited a fractured nation, one on the verge of collapse, and managed to turn it around and into the prospering one he knew it could be. But now, after so long, events he had no control over were forcing him to potentially ruin it all.

If he wasn’t bound by law, he would’ve sought a more peaceful resolution. For all he knew, it could have been the Druthagar that carried out the attack on Emlenor and framed the Hyperions for it. Unfortunately, he had no proof to substantiate that claim and knew it would not hold up with the Council. All of them were appointed by his predecessor, and only half publicly voiced their support for him. Luckily, one was the Warden, who managed to keep the rest in line.

Before he knew it, having been lost in thought, he arrived outside the doors of the Chamber of Peace. He grimaced as he pushed open the wooden doors. There was something odd about naming the meeting place for war leaders after the opposite of its intention.

The interior chamber was circular, the high vaulted ceiling painted with a mixture of events in the Union’s history dating back to its founding on the singular planet of Mythal Saenora to its ascension to the stars and beyond. Pillars made of a fine quartz were spaced equidistantly around the room, supporting the dome in the center. At the pinnacle sat a window of glass that filtered the sunlight coming through into a rainbow of colors.

In the center was a grand, round table made of a fine white wood from trees in the Elashar Forest of Mythal Saenora. The legs were carved with spirals intertwining with one another in overlapping helices. Covering the top were an assortment of different runes, each one repeating and representing a different virtue of the original Thalyssar: Harmony, integrity, bravery, intelligence, cunning. Within the center was a gemstone the size of a boulder. It’s emerald surface, streaked by white and black veining, glittered in the light shining from blue crystals embedded in the walls and pillars.

Six high backed chairs surrounded the hexagonal table, each occupied save one at the far side. The Court of the Woods, originally those who pledged to protect the forests around what was once only the city of Mythal Saenora, stood at Naynn’s entrance, bowing their heads and closing their eyes in respect towards him. Naynn returned the gesture, stopping for a moment before continuing on to the opposite side of the room where his chair awaited him.

“Thank you all for coming together on such short notice,” Naynn said as he crossed the halfway mark, looking over the Court. He allowed his hand to glide over a few of the wooden backs of the chairs, feeling the engraved imagery of various animals and plant life found around the planet. Each was sacred to the Thalyssian Union. He waited until he sat in his own chair to continue, “I am sure you have all been apprised by this point on the development with the Hyperions and Druthagar.”

“The filthy humans destroyed one of our worlds,” hissed Daezumin Moongrove, the eldest member of the Court in Thalyssar, a Ranger General in their navy He stood in the front of the chair right of Naynn’s, clenching his fists. The elf was tall even for one of their kind, standing just under seven feet. A silver circlet with a marquise cut diamond in the center rested atop his golden hair. Robes of a fiery red—an outdated custom from over a thousand years ago—adorned his body. Wrinkles ran across his face. Part of Naynn questioned why Daezumin hadn’t retired despite his advanced age, but he never voiced the thought aloud. “We should show them no mercy.”

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“Yes, that is the rumor.” Naynn reached his chair and looked over the other five. He drummed his fingers against the back before stepping around and taking his seat. The rest followed suit, though Daezumin was slower than the rest. “However, I have reached out to a contact I have within the Hyperion Empire who will hopefully be able to shed more light on the matter.”

“They will surely be biased, Custodian.” The elf speaking was to Naynn’s left. Nerimys Arnidro was his age, and they had been classmates growing up. She served as one of the two Knight Lords in their army. Her green hair, a rare natural color in itself, sparkled with blue highlights. Her robes were a midnight blue that shimmered with every ray of light that hit them. “Why should we trust their accounting of the events at Emlenor?”

“I would like you to ask yourselves that question: Why?” Naynn looked around the room at the Court. Most of them met his gaze with something bordering on confusion, though Daezumin appeared nothing more than bored. Naynn didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “Why would they attack? Their ambassador has been attempting to get us on their side against the Druthagar. Attacking us is a rather poor way of showing their desire for us to aid them.”

“They wanted us to think the Druthagar were the ones to destroy the colony,” Virnelis Furthseal, who had been the Warden of the Court for at least the last five centuries, said. His voice was gruff, matching the patch of hair adorning his chin that very few elves were capable of growing. He tapped his fingers on the table, letting the noise echo in the chamber. “If we thought the Druthagar attacked, then we would declare war on them and join them.”

“A good point.” Naynn stroked his chin and sat back in his chair. “One I considered myself as well. But neglecting to hide their drive signatures seems like a poor way of doing it. Why go through all that effort if they were going to fail at such a simple task?”

“They’re incompetent.” Nerimys shook her head in displeasure. “Which would bring into question why we would ever have considered joining them in the first place.”

“No,” Naynn said at once. “The humans are anything but incompetent. Warmongering, heartless, cruel, destructive. But not incompetent. Never incompetent.”

“What do you propose, Custodian?” Daezumin asked, his voice slow.

“More time. We need more time for my contact to return my message and get us a more complete picture.”

“We cannot wait forever.” The elf across the table from Naynn, Harric Veron, slammed his fist into the table. He wore metal pauldrons atop his green robes, the silver metal adorned with his family’s crest: a downward facing sword, the hilt wrapped with ivy. His family was well known for their service in the Thalyssian Navy, and Harric’s position as the other Ranger General of the Court continued that trend. “We must act! Something I am not surprised you have not learned so far in your tenure as custodian.”

“In my experience,” Naynn replied, taking carefully measured breaths to keep his voice under control, “it is better to ensure as much information is available as possible before rushing headlong into decisions.”

“Shall we put it to a vote?” asked Sylrel Azurecloud, the second Knight Lord. She was nearly as old as Daezumin—old enough to have a surname following the older custom—though only became a member of the Court shortly before Naynn took power. Her cracked skin appeared almost as if it were lightning dancing over her body. “Seems to me like it’s about time for that, unless I’m mistaken.”

“Very well.” Naynn sighed and stood, and the rest of them followed suit. He looked around, trying to find any of them who might share his view. His gaze was met with nothing but stoic faces. “All of those in favor of allying ourselves with the Druthagar Kingdom and declaring war against the Hyperion Empire, remain standing.”

Naynn sat down. He was the only one. Daezumin, Nerimys, Virnelis, Harric, and Sylrel all remained in front of their chairs, looking at him expectantly. Harric had something approaching a smirk on his lips.

“By a five to one vote, let it be known that the Court of the Woods of Mythal Saenora have decided to declare war against the Hyperion Empire. You are dismissed and may begin organizing your fleets at once. I will alert our ambassadors to both Druthagar and Hyperia of this decision.”

Naynn didn’t wait for a response. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest and barely kept anger and disappointment from showing on his face. How could they so easily agree to such an action? It was too quick. The emotion of losing two hundred thousand people was too high. Sure, it was a travesty, a horrendous event in their history, but they couldn’t rush headlong into this. It was a wound that hadn’t been given the time to heal before acting. The Court was thinking with their hearts, not their heads, in a time that desperately called for the latter.

He made his way through the palace back to the communications room where he could send messages with the decision. Part of him knew something was wrong, that they were making a horrible mistake. If only he could do something to stop it.