Voices At The Table

The war council hall was heavy with silence. The round table was full—every seat occupied, every face grim. At its head, Ravuun loomed like a mountain, shoulders broad enough to shadow the map spread across the wood.

The air cracked as Ravuun finally spoke.

“We march on Crystalor.”

The words hit the table like a hammer. Even Selka blinked. Nero stopped twirling his dagger mid-spin.

“No more skirmishes. No more waiting. The time for hiding in the roots of this forest is over. In three days, our banners fly before the Glass Castle itself.”

“Three days?!” Nero barked. “You’re talking about throwing every fighter we’ve got straight into their jaws. The king’s guard isn’t just gonna open the gates because we glare at ’em!”

Selka’s eyes narrowed. “And what about the relic? Even if we win the streets, that thing still pumps corruption into the land. If it holds, nothing changes.”

Basko rumbled low in his throat. “If we don’t strike now, it won’t matter. They’re making more shards every day. Ashvale and that skirmish yesterday… They were proof.”

Yanissa spoke softly, but her words sliced clear through the debate. “The forest cries for an ending. The longer we wait, the heavier the echoes grow.”

Rokuro frowned. “Translation: if we sit on our asses, everyone’s screwed.”

“Correct, for once.” Kagi’s voice was dry, but her eyes stayed fixed on Ravuun.

Nero clicked his tongue, scowling. “I get it. We’ve all wanted this for years. But charging head-on? That’s… that’s suicide.”

Before the tension could splinter, Lykos rose from his seat, tone sharp.

“You’re right to fear it. But the Warden is right. This isn’t just a waiting game anymore. Draven’s influence spreads faster than we can keep pace. Every day we wait, another way for Crystalor to march into our lands is crafted. Every hour we waste, another person falls to Corrosion. If we don’t end it now, Crystalor soon will.”

His gaze swept the table, calm but unyielding. “The Warden’s judgment is sound. The only path left is forward.”

Silence pressed down again. Then, slowly, heads began to nod. Yanissa first. Selka next. Basko too, gave a grunt of approval.

Nero reluctantly agreed too.

Ravuun’s hand came down on the map with finality.

“Then it is decided. The main unit will carve a path straight for the gates.”

He raised his eyes, catching Rokuro in his seat.

“And the Lock will carve the path to the castle itself. Lykos will assist him.”

“Rokuro?” Selka raised a brow, “How?”

“Our informant on the Glass Castle knows a secret passage. He’ll meet us where the underground tunnel meets the castle.”

Rokuro blinked. “Wait, what about Kagi?”

Ravuun’s eyes didn’t falter. He simply said,

“Accompanying you, of course. She’s but a mere blade with no wielder without the Lock after all.”

The room went still for a fraction of a second. Or at least Kagi thought it did.

She’s but a mere blade with no wielder without the Lock after all…

Those words cut deeper than she had imagined. Everyone was beginning to think the same thing. The rebels, the Warden…

She wanted to protest against it, set them straight, but… she was starting to think they were right after all that.

Despite the silence, only one stood up. Palms against the table, Rokuro rose.

“Hey!”

His tone was far too harsh to be directed at the supreme leader of the rebels.

“Kagi is her own person!” His words rung across the hall, definitive.

Kagi looked on, silent but more present than ever.

“What?” Ravuun couldn’t believe his ears.

“I said she’s her own person. She doesn’t need me to be useful. She doesn’t need anyone.”

“You dare question—“

“I do.” Rokuro cut off the Warden, making everyone in the room hold their breath.

“Because you can’t just label people as tools like that.” Rokuro’s eyes were resolute as he looked at the warden. Part of him felt the recklessness on what he was doing but the rest of him knew.

This wasn’t right. And it wasn’t fair towards Kagi.

Besides he never showed respect to anyone of authority in his life, be it teachers or policemen so… why start now?

“Rokuro sit down—“

“No, Lykos.” Ravuun raised a hand, tone almost impressed, “It’s not often somebody has spoken to me in that manner.”

“You have some nerve, Lock.” He stared him down.

Then in sign of support, Nero chimed in as well.

“He’s right, father. Kagi is not a tool.”

“Yeah, she’s a person! And a very cool one at that!”

Selka added.

For a second Ravuun couldn’t believe his ears. Rokuro gritted his teeth, expecting a retaliation but instead…

The warden eased.

“I see.” He nodded, “Then I dismiss what I said. The Key will accompany the Lock.”

The decision had been made.

Rokuro sat back down and folded his arms, trying to mask his relief while Selka simply sighed.

“That was nerve wracking…”

“Good grief…” Nero muttered.

All the while Kagi was struck absolutely speechless. She couldn’t believe Rokuro had stood up to her like that, when even she herself couldn’t.

“Why you smiling at me like that for?” Rokuro raised a brow at her.

“Eh?” Kagi touched her lips. Without realising the corners of her mouth had risen into a grin. A genuine, warm one.

Damn it, why am I grinning like a fool?!

Suddenly, her cheeks took on a rosy tint.

“I— uh…” She cleared her throat, looking away, “Thanks.”

Rokuro gulped, fighting a very manly blush as well, “I guess you’re welcome.”

“Now that it’s all settled…” Lykos spoke next, “Tonight we will hold the Rootfire Gathering to celebrate before the big march.”

“Rootfire…?” Rokuro muttered, looking at Selka.

“Oh it’s a celebration!” She whispered, one hand covering the side of her mouth, “It’s a tradition to hold it before big marches. Although this one’s probably the biggest yet.”

“It’s more than fitting.” Basko agreed.

“The forest will benefit from the upbeat spirits.” Yanissa nodded too.

“War council dismissed.”

The war council rose with the sound of steel scraping wood, the weight of history pressing on every shoulder.

╒ 🗝 ╛

Rokuro was the first to slip through the carved doors, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, muttering under his breath. “What a pain…”

Kagi lingered a moment, Ravuun’s words still biting at her. Then she followed.

They stepped out onto Crownrest. The open air hit like a shock after the smoky confines of the council hall. The district stretched before them, platforms and homes built in front of the Elder Tree, lit by lanterns that swayed in the wind. Far beyond, Emberhold’s other districts gleamed faintly through the canopy.

“Rokuro,” Kagi called.

He stopped at the railing, half-turned, framed by fireflies drifting on the morning air.

“…Hey.” Her voice was quieter than usual, less sharp, almost careful. “Back there. Thank you. For… standing up to me.”

Rokuro blinked, then scratched the back of his head with a snort. “Eh. You’re always bailing me out. Figured it’s only fair I return the favor once in a while.” He jerked his chin back toward the council chamber. “Besides… the Warden was just spouting bullshit.”

Kagi stared at him. The way he said it so easily, like it wasn’t even worth arguing. Like of course she wasn’t a tool, of course she wasn’t just a blade.

Her lips curved before she realized it — not the usual smirk, but a warm, unguarded smile.

He said it without hesitation. When even I doubted myself.

That’s what made him dangerous. Not the gauntlet, not the prophecy… but that reckless honesty that cuts deeper than steel.

When he said it so convincingly… even I couldn’t believe otherwise.

And perhaps that was why… I had chosen to follow him.

Rokuro caught her staring. His brow furrowed. “What, you gonna get all weird on me now?”

Kagi jolted, clearing her throat, forcing her face flat again. “…Don’t flatter yourself.”

But her smile lingered as they walked along the Crownrest platform. For the first time in days, the idea she had been wrestling with simply vanished. And perhaps for good this time.

“Did you hear, did you hear?!”

Both Rokuro and Kagi jolted as a blur of black hair and green eyes skipped up to them. Sana’s grin was so wide it looked ready to split her face.

“Tonight we’re having a celebration!” she announced, bouncing on her heels.

“…How the hell does news travel so fast around here?” Rokuro muttered.

Kagi’s lips twitched. “Maybe it was… the trees?”

“We’re gonna have meat, and fires and music and— UFF SO MUCH FUN!”

Sana twirled around like a fairy.

“What are you even doing in Crownrest?” Rokuro raised a brow.

“Oh yeah, now I remember! Look, look!” Sana fished in her pocket and yanked out a dented silver pendant, holding it up like it was some priceless relic. “Think you can get the big guy with the hammers to fix this for me? I thought he lived around here! You know him right?”

Rokuro blinked, sighing. “…You mean Basko? He’s a blacksmith, not a jeweler.”

“He’s got tools, doesn’t he?” Sana pouted. “Tools fix things!”

“You came all the way out here to ask a war council member to fix your… pendant?”

Before Rokuro could elaborate on how absurd that was, heavy footsteps thudded behind them.

They turned to see Basko in the flesh. looming out of the shadows of the Elder Tree’s entrance, arms crossed.

“I need you, Lock.” the giant rumbled, eyes fixed on Rokuro.

“…Me?” Rokuro pointed at himself, half-disbelieving. “Really?”

He never really did interact with the mountain of a smith before. In fact he was a little intimidating.

Basko nodded, already walking down toward the forge. “Follow.”

Sana hopped around with a mischievous grin. “Perfect! I’m tagging along too!”

“Oi—” Rokuro tried, but she’d already skipped off down the platform behind Basko, humming to herself.

Kagi chuckled softly, the sound barely audible, before nodding toward Basko’s retreating form. “Better go see what the ‘big guy with the hammers’ wants.”

“What a pain…” Rokuro muttered.