Vivienne kneeled before Aerion, the light from the scriptorium windows casting her in a true silhouette, her sacred pendant clutched tightly in her hand. King Valdemar entered the room, his expression a mixture of relief and awe, followed closely by Lucian, Caius, and the Grand Ministers, their widened eyes reflecting the undeniable truth of what they had just witnessed. A prodigy.
An hour later, after a swift journey through the castle's secret passages, Vivienne entered the council chamber, Aerion nestled securely on her hip. The air in the chamber, carved deep within the heart of the mountain, hummed with a palpable energy. Smooth, grey stone formed the walls, etched with intricate symbols representing every aspect of shaktih that pulsed with a faint, inner light, casting an ethereal glow.
In the center, a circular table of polished obsidian reflected the flickering flames of the torches that lined the walls, creating an illusion of endless depth. Every member of the council, including the Grand Ministers, Lucian, and Caius, silently observed Aerion as Vivienne approached. Their gazes, sharp and assessing, carefully studied the infant from the top of his downy head to the tips of his tiny, grasping fingers.
[Dude, what the hell? Why is everyone looking at me like that? It's creeping me out.] Aerion thought, a wave of self-consciousness washing over his adult mind trapped in this infant form.
Vivienne and Valdemar took their seats near Lucian. The King cleared his throat, the authoritative sound cutting through the heavy silence.
"As you can see… dear members of the Council and Grand Ministers…" Valdemar began, his gaze sweeping over the assembled figures, finally resting on Aerion and Vivienne with an affectionate warmth. "My son Aerion has achieved something remarkable." He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "Aerion has finally awakened. He successfully manifested SāraJibh within his very essence."
The news rippled through the council like wildfire in dry grass. A collective intake of breath, a shifting in seats, a palpable sense of astonishment filled the chamber. Lord Lysander, a formidable warrior with striking lavender-blue hair perpetually concealed beneath a silken blindfold, scoffed. "A child? Awakening so early? Of course, one of the few." His tone sounds irritated.
But Archmage Belladonna, her eyes twinkling with an ageless wisdom, simply smiled, a knowing curve of her lips. "The blood of Lady Vivienne runs strong within him," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the Queen with a deep respect. The other council members reacted in a similar fashion, a complex tapestry of skepticism, awe, and cautious anticipation woven across their faces.
A petite girl with vibrant red hair, Lady Rielle, giggled, her voice light and teasing. "Oh, Lysander darling, don't be tighter than a drum."
Lysander sighed dramatically, a theatrical flourish. "Oh, the irony, to be as carefree as you, Rielle, flitting through life with not a care in the world. Sadly, some of us must shoulder the burden of responsibility."
"Responsibility and everything on one side, and being understanding on the other," Rielle countered, her playful tone softening slightly as she glanced at Aerion before continuing. "What harm can a lord's child, who's not even caused a proper tantrum yet, truly do? And be a little nicer, Lysander, or you'll never manage to secure a noblewoman for marriage."
"Why in the world do you care about my marriage, Rielle?" Lysander retorted, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I'm perfectly good single; don't try to be my mother."
"Lysander, darling," Rielle said, her eyes sparkling with amusement, "you're treating this like a military campaign. Relax, we're not storming a fortress; we're discussing a baby who is our dear lord's legacy."
Lady Belladonna's smile widened, a genuine warmth radiating from her as she observed the playful bickering. Other council members, young and old, subtly fought back smiles and stifled chuckles.
Rielle's lighthearted teasing, however, grated on Valdemar's nerves. He felt a muscle twitch in his jaw as he forced himself to remain silent, hoping the childish bickering would cease. It didn't. Finally, with a sigh that carried the weight of his royal authority, he spoke, his voice low and firm. "Lady Rielle, Lord Lysander, I must ask you to conduct yourselves with the decorum befitting this council." Both straightened their backs, their playful expressions replaced with more serious nods of agreement.
"So," Valdemar continued, turning his attention back to the matter at hand, "what we must consider is that my son has awakened far earlier than is typical, a development that presents both significant advantages and potential dangers for our kingdom."
Lady Belladonna nodded in agreement. "Lord Aerion is a prodigy, to say the least. But if this information leaks beyond these walls, who knows which ambitious individuals or hostile forces might seek to exploit his nascent power? Our kingdom could be placed in jeopardy, or even Lord Aerion's own life could be endangered. Furthermore, given the current delicate state of our diplomatic relationship with the Orcish Kingdom, celebrating such an achievement publicly at this time would be… unwise. At least, not yet."
Valdemar hummed thoughtfully, considering her words. "That is precisely why we are gathered here – to seek the counsel of everyone present before making any definitive decisions."
[Is this how being royalty works? Constant strategizing and hidden agendas? If yes, I'd rather be a commoner, reading stolen books by the river.] Aerion mused, his mind already weary of the complexities of courtly life something he never had in his previous life.
Lady Rielle raised her hand, her earlier levity replaced with a more serious expression. "I believe we should keep Lord Aerion's awakening a closely guarded secret for the time being."
Lord Lysander followed suit, raising his own hand. "Lo and behold, a mystery no more," he quipped, a hint of his earlier sarcasm returning. Rielle scoffed, momentarily lost for words, and pouted her lips.
Lady Belladonna raised her hand, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "Even if we maintain secrecy, we must ensure Lord Aerion is properly guided and prepared for the responsibilities that will eventually fall upon him. I would be happy to undertake that tutelage myself," she offered, her gaze meeting Aerion's for a fleeting moment, sending a strange shiver down his spine.
[What? She wants to… train me? There's definitely more to that offer than she's letting on.]
After a few moments of contemplative silence, Valdemar spoke, outlining his proposed course of action. "Therefore, I present two options for your consideration, and I ask for your votes accordingly. The first option is to immediately begin Lord Aerion's Shaktih training with the most skilled and discreet teachers we can find within our kingdom. The second option is to maintain the utmost secrecy regarding his awakening and wait until he reaches an age closer to Lucian's when he first manifested his abilities, at which point we can make a formal announcement."
Aerion, despite his small form, felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, the weight of their decision pressing down on him. As the silent poll began, hands slowly rising around the obsidian table, the consensus quickly became clear.
"I agree," Lord Lysander stated, his voice firm. "We should keep Lord Aerion's talent in check. There is no need for him to begin such intense training at this tender age. Discretion is paramount." Lysander's words caused Aerion's hopeful smile to falter.
[Why? Why are you all so hesitant? I want to learn magic! I want to explore this world, to understand its powers! This secrecy is nothing but an obstacles!]
Rielle, surprisingly, echoed Lysander's sentiment, raising her hand in agreement. "Yes, yes, my lord. I concur."
[What…? You're agreeing with him? Aren't you supposed to be the voice of impulsive fun? This is ridiculous!]
Lady Belladonna nodded sagely, raising her hand, and each of the Grand Ministers followed suit, their expressions reflecting a shared understanding of the potential risks. Even Caius offered a thin, self-satisfied smirk as he raised his hand in favor of the second option. Lucian, his gaze meeting Aerion's for a brief, apologetic moment, mumbled, "Sorry, brother…" before raising his own hand in agreement.
Confusion and frustration welled up within Aerion. He tightened his tiny grip on Vivienne's hand, his distress evident in his small body. Vivienne, ever attuned to his unspoken emotions, understood his silent plea. With a graceful movement, she raised her own hand.
"I would like to propose another option," she said, her voice calm and steady, "one that might allow Aerion to grow and learn without attracting undue attention."
King Valdemar looked at her, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "Like what, my dear?"
Vivienne looked down at Aerion, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she ruffled his soft hair. "How about I take him back to Suryasthirh?"