This story follows Ilsevel Syltris’s perspective.

 

The sun shines brightly on the balcony. Hundreds of thousands of people gather with smiles and cheers from below. Waving flags of elvenite red, adorned with yellow lines.

“Ready?” I whisper to my sister, Siphanien, to my left.

She flinches and turns to me with an annoyed look, before quickly snapping her gaze forward.

“Never been more prepared.” She answers.

With one footstep after another, the female children of the royal family of Odaoqith step into the sunlight to address the nation. Thousands of cracking voices. Applause as far as the eye can see. Siphanien steps forward, gripping a piece of a scroll containing her speech.

“A beloved morning to all of you, my fellow children of Odaoqith! My name is Siphanien Syltris, second princess to our beloved kingdom. I am here today to lead you in our country’s celebration of our earthen mother, and her femininity. Together with my sisters and I, let us all partake in the multitude of events to celebrate women and all things feminine!” Siphanien spoke nervously yet still commanding a regal presence.

Excellent progress, little sister. She continues to enumerate the highlights of the events that will partake in the upcoming six weeks, listing the ones that even the royal family will participate in. Yet that is not the only thing that is on her mind.

This sudden inclusion and bolstering of the female gender and all forms of femininity was not something pre-planned. It’s a distraction. With the country locking down for a whole month, people were in a constant state of anxiety and panic. Of course, this was all the Queen’s idea. Something as big as this being promoted by a patriarchal monarchy would definitely both raise eyebrows and lift the people’s moods, especially women.

It’s evil that such a precious idea is being used for nefarious means, yet there is a hope in me that the outcome blooms beautifully just as if it were started with innocent intentions. After Siphanien’s speech, Leilatha demonstrated her freakishly enormous mana pool by covering the whole royal plaza, about 350 meters long and 260 meters wide, in a cloud that rained out gentle snow. The audience is delighted. Children played in the snow, enticing even adults to drop their defenses. She did all of this without using a spell. All done with just her affinity.

It’s a good thing that this girl seems to possess no ambition for herself. We don’t need another ice elf in a controlling position in this kingdom.

After the three of us went back inside, the guards sound large horns to signal the beginning of the festival. Queen Silvanna is smilingly applauding us as we went back inside. She gives each of us an embrace, to which only Leilatha genuinely reciprocates. When it came to my turn, she whispered words.

“I know you’ve been meeting with the dragon in secret. Not even Siphanien knows. When dusk falls, make your way to the prison underneath the largest tree in Odaoqith. Keep this in confidence.” She says commandingly.

When she pulls back, we both smile chuckling, pretending that we just shared gossip. That’s one thing you have to learn, Siphanien. If you’re to mislead the whole room, do not rely on just one party playing an act. You have to lie, yourself.

We all scatter, retiring to each of our rooms. Siphanien leaves me with a gentle smile as if to thank me for my support during her speech. I keep forgetting that it was her first time addressing the nation. You’ve done well, sister. Let your older sister take care of the rest.

 

Dusk falls on the kingdom of sky elves.

 

The steady gallop of a tigerhorse mare breaks the silence of the maximum-security prison beneath the roots of the giant tree. A figure cloaked in a hooded violet velvet robe descends the mighty steed.

“State your name and purpose.” The heavily armored guard said.

Before I could respond, the Great Dragon of the Sky, Yamazumera taps on the guard’s left shoulder from behind and emerges from the shadows.

“Come on in.” The dragon commands.

I pass the now-nervous guard and descend into the dark depths of the most secure prison in all of the country — no, the continent. The cells are few and far between. Each of them is made with the tree’s gigantic roots that have somehow solidified into a material much denser than a great many gemstones. They also have a draining characteristic that would make the chaos wilds feel like a cakewalk. The only difference is that there is a consciousness to their draining that they never allow anyone’s mana to reach a full zero. I think I’m starting to understand why this was chosen to be the meeting place.

Deeper into the prison, a tight hallway leads to an interior open area. It’s not too big, yet quite small for my taste. A circular table made of plain redwood sits in the middle of the room. Yamazumera takes a seat, with three others already sitting. Of course, nothing less should be expected from Silvanna’s endeavors.

 

Yamazumera, the Great Eastern Dragon of the Sky, is the most powerful living dragon to make themselves known. She is the guardian, almost mother, to the Dreamwalker, Ayre Vasatra.

Silvanna Olarel-Syltris, a noble from the Ice Kingdom of Thasinia in the cold and mountainous regions of the continent up north. Queen to the Kingdom of the Sky Elves after marrying my father after my mother’s death. The most cunning woman I’ve ever met.

Amnestria Vasatra, Director and Headmaster of the Cyranic Academy of magic. Official mother to the Dreamwalker, yet somehow distant to the boy. The most powerful mage in the country.

Pyria Vengella, Captain of the Exterior Force, and arguably the most headstrong soldier in the history of the Kingdom. Served my father in his initial siege to usurp the previous king. My original role model.

 

“Well, isn’t this quite the gathering of ladies?” I commented, taking the final empty seat in the roundtable.

“It’s good to see you again, little Ilsy.” Pyria smilingly greets me from across the table.

“Quite fitting, isn’t it? The rest of the country is celebrating women for the first time after so many millennia. Wouldn’t it only be right that the hidden council deciding its fate be comprised of the country’s most powerful women?” Amnestria commented.

The women all smile.

“Quite poetic, even for you, Silvanna.” I say to the queen.

“That’s your fault for underestimating how much I love the arts.” The queen replies with a boastful flip of her ice-colored hair.

“How come your favorite daughter wasn’t the one chosen to be a part of this little gathering? If I remember correctly, it was Siphanien that you initially sent to Yamazumera after discovering the fate of the human boy.” I lay it flat on the table.

The rest of this makeshift council fell silent, waiting for the queen to respond. Yamazumera’s eyes are just kept closed while her feet rest on top of the table and hands crossed over her voluptuous chest.

“Siphanien is good for one thing, and one thing only. Direct tasks. With her penchant for gravitating to a specific task, that girl wouldn’t dare be mischievous nor cunning.” Silvanna answers.

I grip my knees tight under the table. As much as she makes sense, I don’t appreciate hearing someone talk so lowly of my sister right in front of my face.

“What I need for this council are people who work toward a specific goal, yet have enough of a head on top of their shoulders that the best outcome will always be found.” Silvanna continued.

“You’re trading off soldiers who’ll follow your every command in favor of geniuses who can actually think for themselves. Even at the cost of possible betrayal?” Amnestria asks casually.

“I’ve learned long ago that in order to keep people with their own personal agendas in line, is to have a common goal that is more important to each of them instead of what they want for themselves.” Silvanna answers.

“And that is the fate of this Kingdom and the possible annihilation of mana in the Forest Continent,” Silvanna added.

Everyone fell silent. That’s true. Despite what possible agendas each of these cunning women want for themselves, I doubt any of them matter if it’s the whole country at stake. The erasure of mana in the Forest Continent, like what happened in the Warring Lands would spell the end of all lifestyles in all the elven kingdoms.

“I assume you didn’t just gather us for a speech,” Pyria says impatiently.

“Hahaha! You’re right. That would be wasting all of your time. I gathered all of you here to formally establish the War Council that will be controlling the country in the foreseeable future.” Silvanna says with a stern expression.

“Did I miss the memo? I didn’t know Odaoqith is at war.” Amnestria says with a smile.

“Not yet, anyway.” Pyria adds.

“In the past month, our allies and informants scattered within the human nations in the Warring Lands have given us bits and pieces of information. Yet a vital piece of intel has given us reason to finally be on our best defenses.” Silvanna states.

She pauses for a bit, drinking her water from a circular silver flask.

“The humans who infiltrated us were able to use magic on a large scale that we both did not anticipate nor were able to detect. Well, we finally found out how they were able to do so.” Silvanna opens the table.

Everyone, even the passive Yamazumera, had their eyes wide open in both apprehension and stress.

“They’ve been commanding the use of Spirit Magic,” Silvanna says ominously.

“That’s preposterous!!” Amnestria stands up and slams the table.

“Spirits wouldn’t stoop so low as to allow such vile creatures to make use of their magic!” Amnestria erupted with rage.

“It’s not unheard of.” Yamazumera enters the fray.

“What are you talking about!?” Pyria asked angrily.

“In the age of the Great King, Joaquin Felipe Gregorio, his enemies made use of ancient relics that were about to both trap and enslave spirits. With these enslaved spirits, the ancient humans of those thousands of years ago carried lamps that shot out the magic of spirits encased in those terrible prisons.” Yamazumera explained.

“How barbaric!!” Amnestria commented.

“How were they defeated then?” I asked, curious about what matters.

“Unfortunately, the spirits inside had to either kill themselves or die out naturally from the exploitation for these pseudo-mages to be defeated. The gap between gathering low-level spirits and making them into slaves took too long that the effort was abandoned. I guess not entirely if they’re popping up again after so many years. Fuck! I thought this bastardization was done for…” Yamazumera expressed anger and frustration.

“Further reports say that there is already a sizeable secret society in the underbelly of the human kingdoms with all of its members capable of using spirit magic. As to the method of how they acquired such power, our intel cannot make a solid conclusion.” Silvanna added.

“All these pseudo-mages are making my head spin,” Pyria commented.

“The Great King’s court elven mage had a name for them and this foul use of robbed spirit magic — Witches, and the Art of Witchcraft,” Yamazumera added.

Another period of silence overcame the council. How does one even react to such news? In the Cyranic, spirit magic is taught to be something that would not have a fair comparison to natural magic, or mana, for short. Although both can be used to create similar spells and manipulations of matter, mana has limits, while the limits of spirit magic are virtually nonexistent if the user obeys the rules of its use.

In my opinion, the formation of this council is virtually too late already. A misstep in Silvanna’s plans is assuming that we would succeed if we were to act reactively to the information we’re given, instead of proactively setting up defenses. Still, how does one even defend from spirits? Even Yamazumera cannot stand a fully powered spirit within its own domain. Is this the end of mana?

“Now that everyone is made aware of the existence of these… witches. The table is now open for suggestions, and please, any and all thoughts are welcome. As of today, we are treading into unknown territory.” Silvanna says in an almost embarrassed tone.

All of us looked at each other, hoping for someone to raise an idea that would somehow help prevent this disaster. While everyone was busy muttering to themselves, Yamazumera stands up and begins to leave.

“Oy, I don’t think this meeting is finished,” Pyria aggressively addresses the dragon.

“Ayre Vasatra is patiently waiting for me in the chaos wilds, familiarizing himself with his new body after literally dying a month ago. The boy just woke up a few days ago. I don’t want to leave him alone for long. I’m sure you’d understand as you’re the boy’s legal mother, Amnestria.” The dragon glares at the Cyranic Director.

Amnestria just huffs at the dragon’s comment. It’s clear that Amnestria worries for the boy to some degree, but her intentions for mothering the child are more along the lines of political and strategic power, instead of actual care for the human.

“Besides… The answer is obvious. I’m sure you elves can figure it out by yourselves.” said the dragon.

“And what would that be?” Queen Silvanna asks with a calm smile on her face, confident in the dragon’s answer.

“It’s clear that the humans are growing in their numbers. Whatever the method they have in utilizing spirit magic, one thing remains constant they need spirits. If it’s a certain limited resource that they require, what do kingdoms at war do in response? The answer is already on your lips, isn’t it, Silvie?” Asked the dragon, with a psychotic smile on her face before leaving entirely.

I turn to the Queen, a steadily increasing heartbeat on my chest. No… They don’t mean… Surely not!

“We get the spirits for ourselves,” Silvanna smilingly answered.

This is madness… Drying out the required resource of an enemy country is a strategy that applies to food, water, supplies, and the like! Treating spirits as nothing short of the same evil that humans are committing. Are we willing to become monsters to defeat another? You raid grain storages, you steal horses, you kill or free livestock, but you don’t farm spirits!!

Am I the only one hesitating against this plan!?

“My, my, the Ifrit in my employment will surely not be a fan of this strategy. Despite this being a secret, he will no doubt discover it soon enough. Might I suggest that we loop in Raasami to avoid making an enemy of a powerful Ifrit?” Amnestria smilingly asked.

“It is of no issue to me, just be sure that the Ifrit’s lips remain sealed,” Silvanna responds.

“Now we’re speaking my language. Let the spirit race begin!” Pyria shouts.

This is madness… I’m part of a council talking about spirits like they’re nothing but wild liondeer that can be farmed. I say this yet my outer expression says nothing but excitement. I have to play my cards right. Aside from my brains, I think Silvanna put me on this council so she could keep a close eye on me as well. What a master tactician… I played right into her hands.

The council meeting ends. Each of us disperses in different directions, with me heading back into the castle. As I made my way through the hallways, my father was waiting outside of my room.

“Father! I didn’t expect to see you here. Is there something I can help you with?” I ask smilingly.

“Ilsevel, sweat is dripping on the side of your face. You’ve never been quite able to lie to my face no matter how good you become at this political warfare.” Father says softly.

“Be not afraid. I’m well aware that Silvanna is making moves without me knowing. I’m not asking you to tell me about them, nor to compromise your position in any way. My request is simple. Don’t die fighting her war, okay?” Father continued.

His words caught me off guard. He’s never expressed this much adoration nor love toward me ever since I became an adult — no, ever since my mother died. He knows… He knows that this won’t be like the other wars fought against humans before. It’s almost as if he’s saying goodbye…

I nod and give him a smile before retiring to my bed. I lie awake, staring at my ceiling. Wondering about the days to come. Mother, can you let me borrow your skills of seeing the future? I need to know what happens next… I’m afraid, mother. I am very afraid.

I need you… I miss you…