Weight of a Choice

The council chamber’s roar of arguments faded as Lord Halveth raised a hand and declared a recess. The heavy doors shut behind Noel, Akari, Seren, and Mira as they stepped into the drafty corridor. The air outside was no warmer, but the silence carried its own sharp chill.

Noel’s grip tightened as he turned toward Akari. His expression, normally calm, was shadowed with worry and frustration. “You will not fight,” he said firmly, his voice low but edged. “Think of yourself first, Akari. Not of their demands, not of what anyone else wants. You are not their soldier.”

Akari blinked, startled by the intensity in his tone. “But… they-”

“No.” His interruption was sharp. “You say you’re thirteen. Then you are not required to fight, spirit or not. The council cannot command you. They can only try to command me.”

Mira crossed her arms, nodding. “Noel’s right. You’re not obligated, little miss Akari. Spirits aren’t weapons to be ordered around. Your word carries more weight than any decree especially with the priestess there. If you do not want to fight, say so. They cannot force you.”

Akari fidgeted, her flame flickering uncertainly. “But… everyone’s counting on us…”

Mira's voice was steady and protective. “Don’t let them put that weight on your shoulders. Survival isn’t about throwing children onto battlefields.”

Seren, who had remained silent until then, finally spoke. His voice was calm, almost instructional. “In the north, the rule is clear. No one under fifteen fights - noble, mage, soldier, or commoner. Only in the most desperate of times does every hand take up a weapon. We are not in that state now, not like we were a year ago.” He glanced between them, his expression even. “The council may push, but the law does not demand it.”

Akari’s flame wavered. Their words wrapped around her, yet beneath them another feeling pulsed. A weight, heavy and cold. She imagined the walls cracking under assault, soldiers screaming, the firelight dimming as monsters pressed in. She could almost feel it: if she did nothing, if she stepped back, people would die.

She blazed bright. “I’ll fight!”

The words tumbled out, quiet but certain. Mira’s eyes widened, and Noel froze.

“I don’t want people to die because I was too scared,” Akari continued, her voice trembling but resolute. “If there’s even a chance I can help, I should. And… I feel it. If I don’t, the fortress might fall.”

Noel’s jaw tightened. He turned away, pacing a step down the corridor, before whipping back around. “Do you even understand what you’re saying? This is not like those video games you told me about, Akari. You are way in over your head!"

“It’s my choice!” she burst out, her flame flaring high for a heartbeat before dimming again. “You said it yourself - spirits can’t be controlled. Then let me choose! If I regret it, let me regret later!”

The words deeply cut him. Noel’s anger simmered. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to steady himself. “Fine,” he said at last, his voice rough. “If this is what you decide… then I will respect it. But listen carefully, Akari.” He lowered his voice, stepping closer. “If after your first battle you cannot endure it, if it breaks you, you will stop. You will admit it, and you will not fight again. Do you understand?”

Akari met his gaze, her flame flickering but steady. She nodded. “I understand.”

...

The chamber’s silence was heavier than before. The nobles resumed their seats in deliberate motions, eyes sharp and voices hushed. The frost banners hung unmoving, their pale blue glow catching on the councilors’ faces, every crease and scar etched deeper by the cold.

Halveth remained at the center, hands folded before him, his expression carved from stone. His gaze lingered on Noel and Akari as they returned, guided by Seren and Mira.

“The matter of lordship has been decided,” Halveth said, his voice steady, carrying across the chamber. “But the matter of service remains.”

Murmurs rippled again. The old noble who had challenged Noel earlier scowled openly. “Are we truly allowing a child’s whim to dictate our defense? Spirits may be divine, but this one barely speaks as an adult!”

The High Priestess turned her head, cool eyes fixing on him. “And yet,” she said sharply, “her word carries more weight than yours. Do you dare suggest you understand the gods’ children better than themselves?”

The chamber stilled. The noble’s mouth opened, then shut again, his knuckles tightening white against the table’s edge.

"Well, Spirit Akari, what have you decided?" The clergywoman looked at Akari with reverent eyes.

"I will fight together with Noel!"

The High Priestess rose, her robes whispering softly as she placed both hands on the table. “The flame spirit has spoken. Whether we think her ready or not, she has blessed her future with ours. That choice must be honored, for it reflects not only her will, but perhaps the will of something greater.”

Several heads bowed at her words. Others bristled but said nothing.

Mira crossed her arms, leaning forward. “Then I say we do more than honor it. We prepare them. I’ll not see these two thrown onto the front like fodder. They need training, discipline, and guidance.” Her gaze moved pointedly toward Seren. “That means you, Captain.”

Seren inclined his head in acknowledgment, the firelight from the sconces catching faintly on his crimson cloak. “It will be done. They will serve under my unit directly. I take full responsibility.”

His words sparked both approval and discontent. The chamber buzzed again, half the council murmuring with interest, half shaking their heads.

Halveth raised a hand, cutting through the noise. His voice was heavy with finality. “It is settled. The spirit Akari and Lord Noel Velrath will serve the fortress as soldiers. Captain Seren will see to their training and deployment. May the Creator and the gods grant us the strength we will need for another day.”

The frost banners shivered in a draft, as though the chamber itself sighed.

Noel exhaled, tension slipping from his shoulders only to be replaced by a heavier burden. He glanced at Akari, who burned beside him - small and resolute.

It was reality.

And though fear gnawed at him, though his heart begged to shield her from the battlefield’s cruelty, Noel could only whisper to himself the promise he had demanded:

If it’s too much, she’ll stop. She has to stop.

...

When the council adjourned for the night, Mira lingered only long enough to squeeze Noel’s shoulder before leaving. The halls of the fortress stretched long and cold as Noel and Akari walked with Seren. Their footsteps echoed off stone, the silence punctuated only by the distant whistle of the wind.

Akari glanced up at Noel. “You’re still angry, aren’t you?”

“I’ll probably always be worried.”

Her flame dimmed briefly, then steadied. “Then I’ll just have to prove to you I can do this.”

Noel gave a faint, weary smile.

Seren paused at the fork in the corridor, turning toward them. “Rest well tonight. Training begins at dawn. From tomorrow forward, you will no longer walk as bystanders. You will walk as soldiers of the north.”

Their path was chosen, and it would test them both.