The amber gaslight flickered against the tall, arched windows of the ornate marble chamber, casting dancing shadows across the polished mahogany table that dominated the room’s center. Outside, the sprawling city of Amnohdet stretched beneath them like a tapestry of stone-floored streets and wrought-iron lampposts, their warm glow creating pools of light in the evening mist. The Witch Spire rose high above the city’s concrete splendor, its Gothic architecture a stark reminder of the ancient powers that governed from within its walls.

Right now in this chamber, an uncomfortable tension filled the air like incense grown too thick. The room itself spoke of centuries of tradition—walls lined with leather-bound books, crystal orbs suspended from ornate brass fixtures, and portraits of Reverend Witches.

Spire had a lot of history dating back to the beginning of the empire.

At one side of the room, their postures rigid with formal authority, stood the Ministry’s most trusted Arcnytes.

Ewen was standing with a body full of tension. It was because of the members present in the chamber.

Beside him, Veronica maintained her characteristic composure, her auburn hair pinned in the elaborate coiffure favored by ladies of the Ministry. Her emerald velvet dress, cut in the latest fashion but modified with the subtle insignia of her office, rustled softly as she shifted her weight. Both Arcnytes bore the weight of their responsibilities heavily, their faces carved from stone as they awaited the resolution of this delicate matter.

The two women of the Witch Council occupied their places at the table with the dignity befitting their station. Yasmine, her dark eyes reflecting the gaslight like polished obsidian, sat with her hands folded before her.

Beside her, Mirabel appeared restless, her fingers drumming silently against the table’s surface.

At the head of the table, Reverend Witch Oceana commanded the room’s attention without effort. Her presence filled the space like storm clouds gathering on the horizon, beautiful and terrible in equal measure. Her silver hair, crowned with a circlet of moonstones that seemed to glow with inner light, fell to her shoulders in waves that defied the morning’s earlier arrangement. Her robes, deepest navy shot through with threads of silver, moved around her as though stirred by an unfelt breeze.

When she spoke, her voice carried the authority of one who had spent decades mastering both the arcane arts and the more subtle magic of command.

Yet despite the assembled power and authority in that chamber, all eyes were drawn to the two figures who stood before the great windows, silhouetted against the gaslit cityscape beyond.

The contrast between them was striking—one young and uncertain, the other aged but unbending in her resolution.

Jaegar stood with a blank expression as he watched his grandmother. He wasn’t in the least bothered or affected by the stares of the people.

He nodded to Veronica, who was staring at him for a while, and gave a sharp squint towards Ewen, who was glaring at him.

Beside him, Angelina presented a figure of quiet but unmistakable power.

Most telling of all was the way she held herself—not with the deference one might expect from a petitioner before the Council, but with the confidence of an equal who had chosen to attend this gathering as a courtesy rather than an obligation.

After the serpents left the city, the novices of the spire helped the people get back to the city and sorted the mess after the chaotic battle.

There was a lot of damage in the marketplace, but it was sorted rather quickly with high-class witches acting swiftly.

After the matter of the people was settled, the council was notified of the absence of the novice named Melusina.

Mirabel was the one to speak, breaking the silence. "They took a child named Melusina, and I am thinking she was one of those chaos children."

Yasmine and others agreed with her.

Veronica wasn’t aware of Melusina, as Melusina disappeared before she came to the place.

Yasmine said, "It is quite unfortunate that we couldn’t save the child."

"We aren’t sure what will happen to her?" Mirabel said.

Oceana then opened her mouth. "The serpents have now collected four of the children, and they are left with two more, if I presume correctly."

Yasmine and Mirabel nodded and looked towards Angelina.

Oceana did the same.

"The matter remains unchanged, Oceana," Angelina said, her voice carrying clearly across the chamber despite its measured tone. And her way of addressing Oceana was informal, but no one dared to correct her. Even Oceana didn’t.

She did not turn from the window as she spoke, her gaze fixed upon the city where gaslight and moonlight mingled to create a dreamscape of shadows and golden pools.

"My grandson will come with me, as we discussed previously. The recent... unfortunate events in the city do not alter this fundamental truth."

Reverend Witch Oceana rose from her chair with flawless grace, the moonstones in her circlet catching the light as she moved.

"The attack changes everything, Angelina, and you know this as well as I. The boy’s power manifested in ways we had not anticipated. We can’t let him parade the streets or let him wander into the empire for them to catch him."

The attack she referenced had indeed shaken more than just the cobblestones of Lower Amnohdet.

"The boy needs to be protected," Oceana continued, moving with measured steps toward the pair at the window. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

"Here, in the Spire, we have the facilities and expertise necessary to help. Surely you cannot wish to see your grandson get taken away by them?"

Mirabel shifted in her chair, her loyalty clearly divided between her current position and her deep respect for the woman who had once led them all.

"Perhaps," she ventured hesitantly, "a compromise might be reached? Maybe both of them can stay here."

Veronica’s sharp intake of breath suggested her opinion of such half-measures, while Ewen’s expression remained carefully neutral.

Yasmine watched the exchange with the patience of one accustomed to letting others reveal their positions before showing her own hand.