The Onboarding Process, Pt. 4

A scrutiny settled on Elisa. A cloak too heavy for the occasion. She did not care to adjust it. She let it sit.

The same one that started all this raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a differing opinion, child?"

She barely tilted her head. "What place do opinions have in this specific issue?"

A scoff. "We kick the Concordant out of your borders and this is the attitude you give us? Opinions drive and motivate change."

"It is more so that you are picking a fight on irrelevant grounds," Elisa said, measured, as if stating a simple fact, "with someone you know is inexperienced in the rules of the demonkin court. You are breaking the spirit of this meeting entirely."

She could feel Kael watching her, but she didn’t turn to confirm it.

"Highcliff’s fate hangs in the balance, and instead of addressing that, you launch into a tirade of knob-polishing and posturing." Her voice did not sharpen, but something beneath it did. "If that is what you think matters here, then perhaps I misjudged the purpose of this discussion."

A pause, calculated.

Then came the sneer. "You have no right to say that. You are only in this position because Kael took a liking to you. This would never happen to any peasant in the Concordant—let alone a demonkin."

Elisa did not react. Not in any way that mattered.

"You are right."

She let it breathe.

"Pit the average human and the average demonkin against each other, nine times out of ten, the demonkin comes out on top. That is not up for debate. What is up for debate is your insistence on dragging this irrelevant point into a discussion that has nothing to do with Highcliff. You are still arguing on irrelevant grounds."

A shift, not in the room but in something quieter.

"And if you cannot separate personal grievances from the actual issues at hand, then I question your authority, your impartiality, and indeed, your willingness to solve this problem at all."

“You dare…”

Elisa spread her hands, her smile practiced, pleasant.

“Please—do prove me wrong!” Her voice rang through the chamber, light, almost playful. “I am always open to a healthy debate. Nothing pleases me more.”

Then, with the gentlest tilt of her head—“But as it stands, you are wholly unequipped and arguing in bad faith.”

Her eyes flicked across the gathered panel, watching for shifts, for hesitations. She already knew what she would find.

“You seem to put a great deal of stock in your history with the Blac’hils, in your tenure here at this court. Which brings me to a question—” She let it roll in smoothly, as though it had just occurred to her. “I must ask the rest of the panel—has he been particularly helpful in generating ideas you actually act on?”

There was a silence. Not long, but long enough.

Mihala, ever the contrarian, exhaled through her nose. "Well, he brings invaluable experience from previous conquests to this court. Granted, his views are… traditionalist in nature, but his observations of human nature have allowed us to take heed when executing our ideas."

"Hmm, yes." Elisa nodded, chin resting lightly in her hand. "That all sounds very impressive." She let her gaze shift, steady, deliberate. "But has he actually contributed to planning any of these projects? Or is he more akin to—shall we say—a consultant?"

The pause this time was longer.

"Ah… yes."

Elisa hummed, tilting her head as if she had already known the answer. “So my intuition is correct, then, in suggesting that he is an inflexible old man who wants his way, or no way at all?”

Mihala inhaled, considering her words carefully. "He has been… disagreeable."

Elisa arched a brow. "Go on."

A slow exhale. "And has not had a direct hand in approving the construction efforts on the surface."

Elisa let the words settle, leaning back as if wholly satisfied.

"Fascinating."

Elisa drummed her fingers against the table, feigning thoughtfulness. “So, if I understand correctly, we have someone in this court whose primary function is… what, exactly?” She gestured loosely. “A trusted voice? A revered strategist? A walking archive of old glories?”

She allowed herself a slight pause, just long enough for discomfort to settle in the air before delivering her next line.

“Because from where I stand, he seems less like an asset and more like an ornament—something wheeled out for ceremony but never actually used for its intended purpose.”

The old demonkin in question finally scoffed. “Or perhaps, girl, I am simply not inclined to waste my breath on ventures doomed to fail.”

Elisa’s expression didn’t change. "Ah. Yes. Of course. Why waste your precious breath when you could simply sit back, fold your arms, and wag a finger when things go awry?”

A beat.

Then, her voice dropped just enough to land the hit where she wanted it.

“After all, it’s much easier to play the critic than it is to contribute.”

More murmurs.

Mihala exhaled, unwilling to let Elisa run away with the argument entirely. “Criticism has its place, no?”

Elisa nodded, folding her hands neatly before her. "Absolutely. But when criticism becomes a shield to avoid responsibility, that’s when it stops being useful and starts being cowardice.”

A sharper ripple of reactions at that.

The old demon’s expression darkened. "Mind your tongue."

"Or what? You’ll scowl at me harder?"

A delicious pause.

Then Mihala let out a laugh, breaking the tension just enough to make the atmosphere bearable again. “I do hate to admit it, but she has a point. Got anything to say for yourself? I’ve never heard it put that way before, but to my mind, I can’t remember the last time you got stuck into any of our recent projects. I do respect you and who you were back then, but I guess I haven’t had the time to reflect where you are now.”

And then, smoothly, precisely, Elisa spoke. Went for the kill.

“For the benefit of all parties involved, I propose this.”

She let the words settle, let the room lean in.

“Look—unlike you, I am actually invested in seeing Highcliff prosper. If you wish to play at power without accountability, then let someone willing to act take your place. If this does not work out—well.” She gave the smallest shrug, as if the next part hardly mattered. “I will ex-communicate myself from the Blac’hil estate. Banish myself from Highcliff entirely.”

Kael felt it before he understood it. A pulse of something sharp—shock, disbelief, something bordering on anger—that made his breath hitch for the briefest second. His mind caught up only after the words had already left Elisa’s mouth, his entire body stiffening as realization settled.

She wasn’t bluffing.

“You may retake your position, and I, as you say, will no longer be the detriment Master Kael relies on.”

A deliberate pause.

“Everyone wins. Because as it stands, it sounds like your interests don’t align with Kael’s, nor the committee’s. Before you sully this discussion further, when you so clearly wish to be elsewhere—” She tilted her head, gaze steady, “—then why be on the panel at all?”

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to unseat a demon general, girl?" His voice was sharp, edged with something almost amused, but not quite. "I take it your understanding comes from whatever texts you’ve read about past court meetings—quaint little summaries of conflicts that ended neatly in ink, rather than blood."

It was reaching a boiling point now. 

Kael, all this time, could not believe the spunk Elisa pushed down that old man's throat. 

Elisa didn't stand a chance if he bothered to launch a counter-attack. She was banking on the fact that the old man, in fact, did not want to be in Highcliff... which can easily backfire, since he's been here for nearly a decade, going back before Kael's administration.

So he sat back and watched. And to be honest... it was kind of hot.