Council of Frost

"Sorry, you two. I told them that Noel just wanted to work in numbers yet here we are." The soldier walked with great strides to the point Noel and Akari had trouble catching up."

"Thank you for trying anyway!"

"I agree with Akari. I appreciate your efforts."

Seren’s hand rested lightly on the massive handles, and with a careful push, the frost-lined doors swung wide. Noel and Akari stepped inside. She could see everyone's breaths puffing small clouds in the frigid air. The chamber stretched before them, vast and imposing, the walls lined with banners and icicle-shaped sconces glowing pale blue.

The council’s members were already seated. Older nobles sat stiff - their expressions carved with years of rule and the scars of the last war. Younger nobles, who Seren said replaced the deceased of the battle only a year past, leaned forward in expectation. Others - some commoners elevated to fill empty seats - watched silently, assessing the newcomers.

Lord Halveth - who the captain said was the voted acting temporary lord - seated at the center, inclined his head slightly. His eyes, edged with caution and lingering grief, studied Noel closely.

"Even though the North welcomes all, you come to us as an outsider, Noel Aster Velrath," Halveth began, voice firm but not harsh. "The capital may soon demand that the north recognize a new heir. Tell us, Noel… do you seek the lordship of this fortress? Will you become the capital's puppet?"

The outsider swallowed, the weight of the question pressing like the cold air around them. Seren stepped subtly closer, ready to mediate. Noel’s gaze flickered to Akari, her expression unreadable yet unwavering.

Before Noel could respond, an aged noble, his sharp gaze fixed and voice cutting, spoke. "The boy is a noble but cannot even muster a single spell. And, we were told why he was exiled. The failed military campaign, the corrupted spirit… and the blinding ritual is proof. What makes you think he can lead now?"

A ripple passed through the chamber. Some whispered sympathy, others muttered doubts. The truth hung heavy. Noel’s inability to use magic had been known for years, a silent barrier that many believed would forever prevent him from assuming any command. Memories of the harsh ritual, the faces of those who watched him fail, the whispers of soldiers and nobles alike, all seemed to press down on him in that single moment.

Akari’s eyes flared, her usual restraint melting in the heat of the moment. "Noel can use magic now!" she said, voice clear and unwavering. "We're a team!" Realizing all the attention was on her, the flame quickly hid behind the fellow outsider.

The council exchanged looks, the declaration giving weight to the ritual bond. Noel remained silent afterward, letting the assumption stand. He felt a warmth in her defense but also the dread of what such a spotlight might demand.

Countess Odrienne, an elder noble, leaned forward, her silver hair catching the pale glow of the sconces. "That alone does not make a capable leader," she said, her voice steady and commanding. "This fortress has survived centuries, and we cannot afford mistakes born of sentiment like spiritual bonds. The north needs strength that is proven, not assumed. This boy does not have succession training."

A young knight-noble with tousled hair whose shining idealism drew the eyes of the chamber suddenly stood from his seat. "And yet," he said, "we cannot ignore that Lord Noel has faced hardship we cannot even imagine! Strength is measured not only in magic or bloodline, but also in resilience and courage. He trekked all the way here by foot! If anyone can rise despite adversity, it is he. Captain Seren has also vouched for him!"

The noble, who had brought up Noel's past, tightened his hand around the edge of the table, knuckles white. "Resilience? Courage? Words are cheap. So are two feet. Also, who cares what your idol thinks, Seren's dog? Spirits are unpredictable. We have lost too much already to gamble on what might be. This boy - no, this man - has proven incapable even as a child."

The High Priestess’s calm voice cut through the tension, serene yet resonant. "We must also remember the spiritual dimension," she said. "The bond between Noel and the flame spirit known as Akari is significant. Spirit and human together form a unity we cannot dismiss lightly. I urge caution, yes, but also recognition of the potential within this bond."

Mira, seated firmly at her spot among the council, folded her hands over her chest and leaned forward. "Caution is wise," she said, "but survival depends not only on caution. The fortress needs hands that can act, minds that can plan, and hearts that can endure. First of all, none of you inquired what Noel and Akari want to make of their lives here. What do the two of you want to do?"

The head artisan had given an opening to the exile and flame.

"I do not want to inherit a position I am not educated in or prepared for my entire life. I also do not want to disrupt the way of life you all lead," Noel declared.

"I agree!" The small flame jumped up and down. "We just want to do what we're already doing!"

The debate swelled, voices rising and overlapping, the chamber blazing with energy. Noel stood silently, absorbing every word, feeling both the sting of old judgments and the rare warmth of support. Akari’s gaze never wavered from him, and in her steady presence, he found the courage to face what was demanded.

At last, after what felt like an eternity of clashing words, Seren and Mira’s steadfast support gave Noel and Akari a fragile foothold. Their voices, measured and insistent, cut through the storm of doubts and anchored the debate. Halveth raised his hand at last, quieting the chamber. His voice, weighted with sorrow but steady, filled the hall. "Enough. The question of lordship is decided. Noel Aster Velrath will not be considered nor trained as heir or acting lord."

Murmurs broke out, some satisfied, others tense. Noel felt a pang of conflicted relief - yet also the sting of rejection. The chamber’s verdict was clear: he was not fit to rise to lordship.

A wave of relief and disappointment mingled in the air. Some nodded, others grimaced, but the matter was settled. Then Halveth’s gaze hardened slightly as he continued. "Yet the survival of this fortress demands sacrifice. Lord Noel and Spirit Akari, you must instead fight for the north on the front lines. Spirit users are rare, and the fortress cannot afford to let such strength remain idle."

Noel’s chest tightened. "I… cannot," he said quietly, shaking his head. "Not while Akari is still mentally young. I will not put her in harm’s way. The fortress has never sent children under fifteen to the front. I will not allow her to become the first."

Seren placed a hand on his shoulder, soft but firm. "Then the choice is hers, Noel. This is the spirit's decision to make."

The words struck the council into silence. The cold air pressed heavily, breaths clouding the chamber. Noel turned to Akari, whose small form seemed to flicker in the dim light. She was hesitant, her fiery confidence dimming as the weight of the words settled.

The front lines. Monsters. Death. Someone from the world called Earth would never picture herself standing shoulder to shoulder with soldiers, not as play, not as training, but in real blood and fire. Her flame wavered, not from lack of strength, but from the dawning realization of what this choice meant.

The flame turned to Noel, who looked at her as though she were still a child he must protect. To Seren, whose steady gaze told her he would honor her decision no matter what. And to the council, whose expectant silence seemed to press upon her like the weight of the icy stone walls.

What choice would she make?

The chamber lingered in silence, her decision hanging sharp in the air like a blade yet to fall.