Yuka burst into the chamber with Valkyr only moments behind, breathing heavily from the exertion of the sheer number of steps she had just climbed. If she’d had the time to relax, she would have envied the Dwarf, who had barely broken a sweat despite half-carrying, half-dragging Amarie over her shoulder all the way from the depths of the castle. If her mind had not been addled by lack of sleep and food, she might have even found it strange that she herself – with no shortage of confidence in her endurance – had not managed to duplicate the feat.

As soon as she flung herself through the heavy oaken doors, however, her ears were assaulted by an intense cacophony of arguing voices: the entirety of the Winyaurient Council struggling to shout down the single Bladesinger who stood before them to warn them of their impending doom. Nimloth was quite literally roaring at the top of her lungs, mixing her words with enough curses to make a Dwarf proud, in an attempt to get the attention of the bickering elders. It soon became apparent that the councillors were fighting not only Nimloth but amongst themselves as well, as the debate raged on between those who favoured instant decisive action and those who were willing to risk their lives in order to ‘wait and see’.

I… don’t believe this…

Aghast at the chaos and completely taken aback, Yuka found herself unintentionally rooted to the spot. Were these or weren’t these the greatest warriors and councillors in the city, who had seen it through the countless perils it had faced throughout the war so far? What were they doing bickering over points of formality like small children? Surely they were not all so blinkered such as they could not detect the impending darkness that slowly but surely was pressing in upon even her own arcane senses?

“We…!”

The heavy doors swung open once again, this time admitting young Elenwe, followed closely by both Eldalote and Earane, into the chamber. The Sky Knight skidded to a complete halt just in time, almost bowling Yuka over in her eager haste. Surrounded by the loud bickering of her supposed betters, however, her expression quickly turned to the disgusted disdain that only a child could successfully manage.

“We managed to get everybody into the castle,” she repeated, this time in a quiet aside to Yuka and Valkyr. “Nobody believed us at first.”

“But Elenwe managed to convince the Sky Knights…”

“… and there’s no quicker way to get everybody’s attention than by flying overhead on a pegasus.”

The two younger Bards gave Elenwe proud beams; the young Elf positively blushed beneath their praise.

“In which case, ‘at leaves th’ Cooncil…” Valkyr surmised, unceremoniously dumping Amarie into the care of her sisters. The Dwarf exchanged glances with Yuka, unsure whether she had the right to take charge in this situation; the vagaries and intricacies of Elven politics were quite patently the least of her specialties. “Ah dunnae kinn, Yuka… whit dae we dae noo?”

“We ignore them,” Yuka decided in an instant, unable to leash her impatience any longer. Whether the Council agreed or not, there were lives at stake, and she had to act to the best of her judgement to save them. Freed from her hesitation, her eyes darted swiftly about her surroundings, ignoring the bickering elders and the regally robed guards attempting to subdue Nimloth in favour of attempting to spot the key to unleashing the power imbued in the mana crystals. Sliding over faceless marble walls and featureless frescoes, past slender pillars and beyond the intricately carved wooden barricade that separated the councillors from those that sought their audience, she finally settled upon an inconspicuous archway almost hidden in the shadows to the rear of the room, and the first of a spiralling set of stairs that her keen gaze could just about make out through the darkness.

“… don’t tell me…” she murmured, taking a step forwards in hope of a better look. Barely had she placed foot to ground, however, before she came up against the gate in the wooden barricade… and against its guardian, a tall Elf in ridiculously ornate armour tasked with preventing unwanted intrusion into the privacy of the councillors.

“None may enter without the express permission of the Council,” he intoned, barring her path with the haft of his halberd. The steely blue eyes that glared at her from within the depths of his high helm were cold and battle-hardened; the coolly delivered warning, laced with only a hint of the tension that tainted the attempts of his colleagues to restrain Nimloth, was backed by the presence of three more guards who eyed Yuka and her friends with wary hostility. “Do not force me to remove you from this room with force.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the guard knew deep inside his stomach that they had been a mistake. Yuka had experienced just about enough of bureaucratic protocol, of the pomp and circumstance without any substance that seemed to permeate Winyaurient’s ruling class, to bandy pleasantries any longer.

“Try me,” she challenged, her eyes flashing in anger and daring. Before the guards could react, she darted between them and beyond, unerringly aiming her stride towards the beckoning archway as they floundered in her wake.