The group moved through the glistening halls of the Crystal Castle, their footsteps echoing against the smooth floor. Corinne led the way with her usual grace, Gideon close behind her, every bit the silent sentinel. Mira followed at a steady pace, her eyes flicking from wall to wall fondly. Zephyr walked just behind her, his steps slower as his gaze wandered, drinking in every detail. 

The ice fairies trailed after them, their expressions blank and unbothered by the sight that had stunned so many newcomers in the past—they had seen it all before. At the very back of the group came Larz, tail swishing lazily as he strolled, occasionally glancing at the crystalline ceiling.

Zephyr had never been to Balaydra before—let alone inside the Crystal Castle—and it showed. The way the torchlight bounced off the multicolored crystals, scattering prismatic reflections across the polished surfaces, left him speechless. 

Sometimes it was like walking through a kaleidoscope; other times, it felt like they were being followed by miniature rainbows dancing in the air. He blinked several times, trying to refocus, but it was admittedly a bit dizzying.

‘How does anyone get used to this?’ he wondered.

Mira, meanwhile, had a different reaction entirely. The shimmering corridors were familiar, but not in a way that brought her comfort. She remembered running through these halls, her laughter joined by that of her brother Alastair, their mother calling gently after them as their grandparents awaited their presence in the throne room. 

Her heart clenched at the memory. She offered a soft smile to no one in particular.

Corinne finally came to a stop before a wide door of carved pale stone. With a light wave of her hand, it eased open to reveal a grand council chamber. A long wooden table stretched through the room’s center, surrounded by high-backed chairs. 

Portraits of previous rulers lined the walls in elegant frames, and above the table, a chandelier made of teardrop-shaped diamonds that sparkled in the torchlight like stars caught mid-fall hung from the ceiling.

But it was the thrones at the end of the room that made Mira pause.

Two coral thrones—one a brilliant gold-pink and the other a soft azure—stood on a raised dais behind the far end of the table. They overlooked every seat, positioned just slightly too high, slightly too center.

She remembered sitting at the foot of those thrones as a child, looking up with awe. But now, with older eyes, they seemed more like a pedestal for pride than a seat for guidance.

Her lips drew into a faint frown.

Setting her gaze away from them, Mira sat in one of the seats near the end of the table, directly beneath the thrones. Zephyr sat quietly beside her, eyes scanning the room with a curiosity that hadn't faded since they entered the castle.

To Mira’s surprise, Corinne took the chair directly across from her rather than one of the thrones. Mira blinked, then gestured toward them with her eyes for a brief moment.

“You’re not going to sit there?” she asked softly.

Corinne followed her gaze and gave a half-smile. “Ah… no. I’ve been meaning to do something about those. I’ve always found them to be a bit…” She trailed off, waving her hand as if dismissing the thought.

She didn’t need to finish. Mira understood completely.

Before the silence could settle too heavily, Gideon leaned forward from his seat beside Corinne, his voice sharp but controlled.

“Shall we discuss the reason for your sudden visit?”

Mira nodded once. “Kiran told me a few days ago that Malakor has recently released Ravyn from the Demon Gate.”

The air in the room went still.

“Ravyn… the Necromancer?” Corinne murmured, her hand rising to cover her mouth, her expression stricken.

“How is he so sure of that?” Gideon asked, arms crossing over his chest. “And more importantly, why isn’t he here to tell us himself?”

Zephyr’s hands clenched the armrests of his chair. The sound of cracking wood was faint, but Gideon noticed it. Despite his normally cold demeanor, the edge of a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“It’s not that I don’t believe her,” Gideon said, eyes narrowing slightly at Zephyr, “but I find it curious that such vital information comes without the source to back it up.”

Zephyr said nothing. His jaw tightened as he forced himself to release the chair, placing his hands in his lap instead.

Mira, watching him closely, placed a hand over his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“If you'd like to ask him yourself, Kiran is on the surface,” she said sweetly, fluttering her lashes just enough to force Gideon’s gaze to turn elsewhere. 

“As for why he isn’t here, I’m not sure. I’ve only just begun repairing the rift between him and the Forest Fairy clan. I don’t want to push him with questions and favors more than I already have.”

Her voice softened near the end, her eyes lowering as thoughts of Kiran’s grief crept into her mind.

Corinne’s expression darkened as she turned toward Gideon, silently reprimanding him for his prying. He gave a sigh and leaned back slightly in his chair, the message received.

“So not only do we have Vexis, master of illusions, to contend with,” Corinne said slowly, “but Ravyn the Necromancer as well…”

“It’s manageable with the two of them apart,” Mira said. “But together? Even Kiran could barely fend off their combined mental assault.”

Zephyr’s hand then gently squeezed hers in return, and she looked over at him with a grateful smile.

Then—

SCREEE—EEEK!

The sound of a chair scraping hard against the floor jolted everyone’s attention to the source of the noise: Larz.

“Oops! Sorry!” Larz said sheepishly as he stood, tail flicking. “But you all seem to be forgetting something. Namely someone standing right here!”

He pointed both thumbs at himself with a confident grin.

Zephyr lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah? And? Do you have some kind of mental defense you forgot to mention until now?”

He hadn’t liked Larz since their first meeting, but after witnessing the wolf-eared warrior in battle, even he had to admit the man had skill. Still, the claim sounded suspiciously convenient.

Larz scratched his chin, clearly uncomfortable. “Well… I guess you could say that.”

To be continued…