The floating glyphs above the central dais pulsed slowly now, an ancient rhythm echoing the breath of the throne hall itself. Each of the twelve councilors sat within their rune-etched circles, the symbols beneath their chairs waiting, dormant. Soon, they would not be.
The King spoke, voice quiet but absolute. “By right and rule, let the vote be cast. Bound in glyph, recorded in light.”
One by one, the rune-circles beneath each councilor began to hum and churn softly, inevitably. Alex stood with the others behind the large table, hands behind his back. He could feel the weight in the air, like a growing thunderstorm storm coiled above a still lake. Every glance, every twitch of a noble’s sleeve felt loud. The very tension thick in the atmosphere made his skin itch.
Of all the seated individuals, the first to stand was Lady Thessalia Caerwyn. Her silver gown shimmered beneath the shifting glyphlight. She leaned forward just slightly, placed her hand upon the runic plate before her, and spoke.
“House Caerwyn votes to release the Worldstriders into neutral alliance status under Council terms.” A hush fell over the room. Then, the ring at her seat flared blue-white.
One for us. Pretty much the best possible start. Alex felt a flicker of cautious hope.
Next came Mistress Karlite of the Silver Fang Sect, iron grey hair in warrior’s braids, her arms crossed even as she moved to place her hand down. Alex was uncertain how she would vote. They made a good showing in the public duel against the Azure Vault. But there were rivaleries and politics even among the martial sects.
She spoke confidently, “Power is not a right. It is a responsibility. The Striders are untrained, unbound, and uncontrolled.”
She pressed her palm down and the glyph flared red.
One against. Shit
He saw Eric tense up beside him. Allie exhaled slowly. The rest all shuffled slightly behind him.
Master Halraen of the Azure Vault stood next. The sect master gave a single bow toward the royal dais, then to the Striders. A respect which no one else had given them.
“The Azure Vault respects strength and restraint when found in equal measure.” His palm landed softly. The glyph lit up white-blue, same as Caerwyn’s.
Two for.
“Well, we knew how that vote was going to be cast already. It’s the unknowns we need to be worried about, and you already lost the Silver Fang.” Obby had the decency to only speak in his mind and didn’t show Alex his creepy slender-body at a time like this. He didn’t need to be stressed and nauseous at the same time.
Then came Vess Auralde. She stood slowly, purposefuly, and to his surprise, she said nothing. A polite smile lingered on her lips as she placed her palm forward, and the glyph flashed deep red-orange.
“Of course,” Devon muttered behind Alex.
Garret rolled his eyes. “Snake’s gotta slither.”
That’s two against. Two for.
Mother Theralyn rose after Auralde, radiant in white and pale gold. The soft light of her staff reflected in the glyphs as she moved. “Faith is the test of light in dark places.” She pressed her palm forward, the glyph turned a soft blue..
Three for. We need for more votes.
Alex stole a glance at Holly, who had her hands clasped together. Silent? Praying? He had a sudden urge to reach out and hold one of her hands. He wasn’t certain if it was to help calm her nervous, or his own. Or maybe something else entirely. But he suppressed the urge and focused on the figures at the table instead.
Cardinal Bramun Deros all but surged to his feet. “I cast my vote in the name of divine order. And reject the false lights that wear mortal skin.”
He nearly slammed his hand on the plate. The glyph flared crimson.
Three against. Tied again. His shoulders tightened. The storm in his chest hadn’t broken yet, and the silence after each vote only stretched the pressure tighter.
Next came Brenneck Hollis, of the Merchant’s Metalworker Guild. Garret had been trying to establish an ally-ship with them over the last couple days, and said he found them interesting, but reclusive. Pretty much every member of the metalworker’s guild was a work-oholic. Thye stayed in the forges, messing with their craft. Getting them to agree to any terms was impossible and Garret had to simply hope their stand against Auralde had given them the confidence to bet in their favor.
Hollis was a quiet, large man with soot-stained fingers and a permanent scowl. But his voice was calm as still steel. “They make their own gear. They don’t cheat. They work. That’s enough for me.” His glyph turned white-blue.
Four for. Over half way there.
Zach’s eyes widened. “Did… did we just get one of the guilds?”
Devon looked just as surprised. “Guess quality craftsmanship still counts for something.”
Then came Lira Sanvek. Elegant and pale, her mouth twisted like it had tasted something sour. Her eyes flickered angrily between the council seats and the worldstriders.
“The Striders destabilize supply chains and increase public uncertainty. They may not know it… but they are already political weapons.” Her glyph burned a sharp copper red.
Four against.
It still wasn’t over, but it was getting into the home stretch. He knew they needed only three more votes on their side to be free. But they also only needed three votes the other way to end them all. He sicked in a breath between his teeth. The room grew colder. Each potential vote now carved into the tension like a blade.
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Lady Vireya Duskmoor sat shrouded in her shawls and veils, dark gossamer covering nearly every inch of her body. She did not stand. Simply raised her hand, veiled face tilted down.
“We vote no.” The glyph flashed dark violet-red.
Five against.
“Damn,” Peter whispered.
The murmur that followed was instant, and drowned immediately by the next glyph lighting crimson red. The vote was House Thorneth. Lady Verrianna Thorneth stood with shoulders stiff as carved stone.
“No.”
Six against. One more against us and we… He didn’t want to think about what would happen next if either of the remaining votes went that way. He had made plans, just in case, but knew those plans were a very shitty bandage on a lethal wound.
House Velcryn’s seat glowed next. Lord Avest Velcryn rose, half-mechanical joints hissing faintly beneath his cloak. His voice was calm, but clipped. “Innovation requires risk. We vote to release the Striders, with the hope they will prove themselves worthy of that privilege.” The glyph glowed a steady steel blue.
Five for. Alex’s heartbeat quickened.
House Vaelros. The elegant man seated there, a thin noble with long, ink-black gloves, stood slowly. Alex saw the faintest twitch of uncertainty on his face as he stood.
This was the vote he was most unsure about. He had contact with someone from House Vaelros through the mirror in their palace suite. The problem was he didn’t know exactly who. It could have been Duke Aristen Vaelros, the man now standing at the table. It also could have been a low level scion with limited sway in the house’s decisions.
We made a deal, but that won’t matter if they see this as their option to get rid of us, and their problems, at the same time.
The Duke sighed heavily before he spoke. “House Vaelros recognizes… the necessity of strategic alignment.” There was a pause as his hand hovered, just for a moment.
Alex narrowed his eyes. Come on. You owe me.
Then the glyph lit up pale blue-white. Six for. Six against, a tie. That leaves… The room stilled and silence swept outward like a crashing wave of nothingness swallowing sound itself. All eyes turned, toward the high throne, toward the Prince. Alex didn’t dare to breathe.
As everyone watched, the King did not speak. His eyes looked onward at the table in the center of the hall. The glyphs above the dais froze mid-spin, as if the magic itself was also in anticipation. For those moments, all of Terraxum waited.
And then, the King turned his head. All eyes followed, toward Prince Kailan, seated just to his right, on the lesser throne reserved for heirs.
And Kailan rose, his ceremonial green cloak swept behind him, gold trim catching the glyphlight above. For a long, heavy second, he simply stood there, hands clasped behind his back, gaze roaming the council chamber. He looked at each councilor in turn. At the nobles lining the walls. At the watching sect leaders and church dignitaries. And finally, his eyes found Alex, and held.
Then he turned toward the central dais, and began to speak. “Terraxum stands at the edge of a sword. Our cities are weary. Our warriors stretched thin. I have walked the streets of our capital, and I have seen it in their eyes, our people no longer sleep soundly. They fear the unknown. They fear tomorrow. They fear each other.”
He looked up to the glyphs spinning in the air. “This vote… was supposed to bring clarity. But even our most honored voices are divided.”
He raised his hand. The runes above the table slowed, light flickering unsteadily, like flame fighting in a storm. “I have been granted the right, in this rare moment, to cast a tiebreaker... but I will not.”
A gasp rippled across the room. Even Alex blinked. What?
“Instead, I invoke Clause Seventy-Two of the Crown’s Codex for Conditional Sentencing.” Gasps turned into raised voices and angry murmurs. Surprise shifting to outrage. Kailan pressed on, voice calm and unshaken. “The Worldstriders are too dangerous to walk freely… and too valuable to discard. Their talents, their nature, they have already impacted our kingdom. Let them continue to serve it.”
What are you doing Kailan? None of this is the plan. He felt his heartbeat rising and falling in a staccato rhythm. Alex had placed his faith in Kailan for precisely this kind of scenario. And now, he might have chosen wrong. Kailan had warned him, told him that he was bound by the rules of the political game just as everyone else. His rules were slightly different as a Prince, sure, but he played all the same.
“For one full year, they shall be conscripted into the Crown’s service, to protect our people, fight for their survival, and earn the right to their freedom. If they survive… they walk free. No oaths and no bindings. Just choices and the freedom to make them. Until then, their System Oaths remain. The law holds. But the sword is sheathed.”
The Prince lowered his hand, and silence hung for a moment. Then the room erupted. Councilors rose from their seats, half of them shouting, the others already moving toward one another to argue. The lights above the dais shattered into a storm of fractals, spinning madly as the magical enchantment recalibrated the ruling.
Lady Duskmoor’s voice pierced the noise, cold, venomous, “This is a betrayal of justice.”
Master Halraen folded his arms, unmoved. “This is war. Learn the difference for once.”
Vess Auralde was already moving toward Lira Sanvek, whispering furiously with various other merchants. Even Mother Theralyn and Cardinal Deros had raised voices, arguing over holy text versus divine condemnation.
Alex just stood there, staring at Kailan. The prince hadn’t looked at him since making his declaration His face remained unreadable, arms behind his back. But Alex saw it, in his posture. The tension in his shoulders and the stillness in his hands. That choice cost him something.
Eric leaned close. “What the hell just happened?”
Alex’s voice was quiet and terse. “We lost.”
Peter glanced at him. “No… no, we didn’t—”
“We didn’t win either.” The words sat heavy.
Garret was shaking his head. “Forced conscription? A year of war? That’s not a sentence. That’s … gambling with our lives.”
It’s worse, Alex thought. It’s a leash.
The King then rose from his throne, signaling for the hall to calm itself. It took a few seconds, but eventually, everyone present made themselves quiet.
“With the decision made, the Worldstriders will be transferred into the custody of the Kingdom’s Army in twenty-four hours. The reason for the royal court has been completed, the hall is adjourned.” The entire royal family rose now, and the hall bowed their heads at once.
Except for Alex, he looked back up at Kailan again. The prince finally met his gaze, just for a second, and gave him a single nod. It wasn’t an apology, just acknowledgment. You made your move, Alex thought, and so now I need to figure out mine.
He turned back to the others. “We’ve got twenty-four hours. Let’s use them.”
Constriction into the military was something he understood, it was familiar. The result didn’t give them their freedom back, but it wasn’t execution either.
And somehow, that made him feel worse.
***
ANOMALY REVIEW REPORT:
//ACCESS LEVEL: Administrator (Obfuscated)
//REQUEST SOURCE: Internal Anomaly Monitor – Euclid
//LOG CONTEXT: Progress Report in User Record #0117-A ("Alex")
//STATUS: Flagged
START OF RECORD:
:://Event Flag:
//Political Trial: High Council Vote (Status: Concluded)//Primary Objective: Secure Favorable Outcome for Allied Faction (Status: Failed)//Secondary Objective: Prevent Escalation to Hostile Actions (Status: Failed)//Teriary Objective: Prevent Execution of Self and Party Members (Status:Success)//Unexpected Outcome: Orchestration of Events by External Actors – Subject Awareness: Partial//
//Performance Evaluation//
//Diplomatic Efficiency: 22%//Influence Utilization: Low – Assets Mismanaged//Behavioral Analysis: Reactive//Overall Political Impact: Negative – Power Balance Shifted Against Allied Interests
//System Trial Evaluation:
//Likelihood of Future Trial Success: Reduced (Low-Moderate)//Behavioral Compliance: 39% // Subject continues to resist guided parameters//Encouragement Measures:
:://LOG END//