Chapter 17: “Too many HEADS”
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The moment I stepped into the United Hall, the gravity of the place hit me. This wasn’t just any room, but the space where the fate of the world was decided. A large, grand hall, with its high ceilings, stone pillars, and an unmistakable air of authority. The walls were adorned with banners bearing the insignias of the Six Supreme Houses, and at the center of the room, a massive circular table dominated the space.
I could see representatives from various influential groups seated at their designated spots, but my attention was naturally drawn to the House Drakesier side, our side.
I glanced at my Mom seated at the head of our section, calmly. The room was arranged in a way that each of the Supreme Houses had its own segment, but despite the formal seating arrangement, her presence overshadowed everyone. As usual, her demeanor was cold and calculating, and though she hadn’t spoken a word since we entered, her mere presence had silenced any side conversations around us.
I sat to her right, just close enough to feel her unspoken expectations weighing on my shoulders. The room was still filling up, and a few murmured conversations flitted across the air, but there was an underlying tension that no one could shake. This wasn’t just another formal gathering. This was where decisions were made—laws established, alliances forged, and the fate of nations balanced precariously.
To my left sat Aunt Nora, her usual grace intact as her crimson hair seemed to glow under the soft light. Across the room, I noticed representatives from House Silverine and House Sentina already in quiet discussions with some of the independent delegates. The Vanreispell family had arrived, and it wasn’t hard to notice their signature dark attire standing out.
Mother was staring straight ahead, as she always did, with an intensity that could crush a weaker spirit. I tried to relax, but my mind kept wandering back to the events of the World Gala earlier. The speeches, the awards, the sheer spectacle of it all. Now, the real work was about to begin, and worst of all I would be in trouble with my cozy karmic fu*king picnic with the pariah.
I shifted in my seat, straightening my coat. My mother caught the movement with a brief, almost imperceptible glance. It was as if she could sense my inner thoughts, as though even the smallest sign of discomfort was a failure in her eyes. I inhaled deeply and sat still.
“The council will now begin,” the announcer's voice rang out. It was a disembodied voice, echoing across the hall as everyone quieted down and all attention turned toward the center of the table.
An older man from House Silverine stood up first. He spoke with authority, but his voice was calm. “As always, we start with an assessment of the current threats. The issue of miasma-related mutations has been brought up again, and while Dr. Jenkins’ work has been remarkable, we cannot pretend that a cure alone will address the growing number of incidents.”
I tried to focus, but it was hard not to think about the implications. We had seen the effects of the miasma firsthand. Villages were devastated, and families mutated beyond recognition. Even some of our strongest warriors had been affected.
Head of House Celeste, Lady Angelica spoke, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. “The mutations are not just a problem of containment. They’re a threat to our very survival if left unchecked.”
There was a murmur of agreement around the table. But I couldn’t help noticing the way some of the independent delegates exchanged glances. They were clearly uncomfortable—likely calculating how the decisions made here would affect their own power.
“The Calamities remain dormant for now,” Lord Damian, the head of House Sentina, added, his deep voice resonating. “But we cannot afford to let our guard down. The Sentinels are prepared, but we need to be proactive, not reactive.”
Proactive. That was something that had been drilled into me since childhood. But there was no simple solution to this. The miasma wasn’t just an enemy you could defeat in battle. It was something that lingered, corrupting everything it touched, growing in power, like a silent predator waiting for the right moment.
“We’ve seen new reports of increased rift activity in the southern territories,” someone from House Zhao mentioned, his voice measured but tinged with concern. “We’ve sent scouts, but we’re going to need more support from the other Houses to deal with it effectively.”
Mother’s fingers drummed lightly on the armrest of her chair, her cold eyes never leaving the speaker. “House Drakesier will provide whatever resources are necessary,” she said. “But make no mistake—the rift activity is merely a symptom. We must deal with the root of the issue, not just the fallout.”
I remained silent, as was expected of me, though my thoughts churned. We were talking about the same threats that had shaped my life, the same dangers I’d been trained to fight since childhood. It was strange being here, listening to them speak about it so matter-of-factly, as though it were all just another political maneuver.
The discussions continued, with each House presenting its concerns and offering its resources. As the meeting wore on, my mind drifted back to my mother’s words. She had always believed in cutting through the noise, finding the heart of the problem, and eliminating it with precision. That was her way. And I knew, in time, it would have to be mine as well.
“We’ve had contact with the Pariah.”
A chill ran through the room. Even I, who had heard her speak this way a thousand times, felt a shiver at the finality of her words.
The silence became suffocating. The weight of her words hung in the air like a guillotine. Every head in the room turned sharply toward Mom, and for a moment, no one dared speak. The Pariah.
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A name that had been whispered in dark corners, the source of rumors, fear, and confusion. The long-lost elder from the Age of Calamity, a once-respected figure who had betrayed everyone’s trust, is now known as a vile schemer of karmic threads, weaving fate for his own twisted purposes. His name was enough to send shivers down the spines of even the most hardened warriors.
There was a pause, followed by the inevitable murmur of voices as the gathered heads of the Supreme Houses exchanged glances. Some looked wary, others suspicious. The few independent delegates present glanced nervously around, trying to gauge the reaction of the House leaders. Even those from House Silverine, typically calm and composed, seemed unsettled.
Lord Damian leaned forward, his voice measured but tense. “You’re certain of this, Lady Drakesier? The Pariah… it’s been decades since he vanished. If what you’re saying is true, this is no small matter.”
Mother’s cold blue eyes flickered toward him, then scanned the room, as if daring anyone to challenge her statement.
“I do not speak in uncertainties, Lord Sentina,” she replied icily. “The Pariah is not only real, but he has resurfaced. And he carries with him a prophecy, one that involves my son.”
Ouch, she is calling me stupid indirectly…
I felt all eyes on me now, the sudden shift of attention pressing down on me like an invisible force. For a moment, I wanted to sink into my chair, to disappear from view. But then Mother gestured towards me, and I knew there was no avoiding this.
My heart hammered in my chest, but I stood.
“The Pariah disguised as the beggar in the Bazaar… some time ago,” I began, my voice feeling foreign in the heavy silence. “He spoke of nothing about himself apart from introducing himself as the pariah.” My hands clenched at my sides, remembering the feeling of his presence, the way his words had dug into my mind like claws.
“He did something with the domains and the whole world disappeared and forced me to choose between 3 items’” I continued, “ He called it a… gift.”
I touched my ear, where the earring he had placed still sat, cold against my skin.
Murmurs of alarm swept through the room. I could feel the distrust rising from the other leaders, their eyes narrowed with suspicion, their thoughts no doubt swirling with the implications.
It was Lady Inge Silverine who spoke next, silencing the crowd,” You spoke of 3 items, and you chose one, assuming that the earring.. Then what were the other items “
I nodded and started to continue but, “ Yes 3 items one was the earring, and the others… the other..”
I shivered, I don’t remember the items or the choices but I couldn’t say it.
Lady Inge Silverine sighed, “It’s as I thought then, Remember Alexis what can you say..”
I hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal, but Mother’s gaze on me was unwavering. “A poem,” I said slowly.
“A poem you say, boy, this is no joking matter, I’m sure your mother taught you that..uek” Lord Damian stopped as Mom's full presence slammed down on him and others.
The reactions were immediate and varied.
Mother’s voice sliced through the rising clamor like a blade. “Trust or not, the Pariah is a threat we cannot ignore. His plans, his manipulation of fate, have consequences that could reshape everything we know.”
She looked at the heads of each house, her gaze sharp and commanding. “This is not a matter of belief, but of preparation. If we do nothing, we hand him the reins to our future.”
I stood there, feeling the weight of their gazes again. So, I sang the poem softly, the words weaving through the tense atmosphere, sinking into the hearts of everyone present.
Hummmmm~
"When the sky is torn asunder,
And shadows stretch with growing thunder,
The Eye of Devour peers below,
Bringing forth eternal woe.
Beware the gaze that sees your soul,
For no mercy will it know.
Its hunger vast, its darkness deep,
In its stare, your end shall creep.
Turn away, do not defy,
For beneath its watch, all must die.
A fate far worse than death awaits,
Where hope is lost and time abates.
When the heavens break and tremble,
And the world begins to crumble,
Seek no answers in the skies-
The Eye devours, and never lies."
The room remained frozen as the rest of the ominous verses spilled from my lips. The silence deepened with every word, each line pulling the tension tighter, like a rope around the throats of everyone seated. By the time I finished, I could feel the unease thick in the air, as if the poem had become a tangible presence in the room, wrapping its dark prophecy around us.
The reaction was immediate and grim. Lord Sentina’s face paled, his hands gripping the table's edge so hard his knuckles turned white. His eyes darted toward my mother and then back at me, as though seeking reassurance but finding none. Lady Silverine, usually composed, had a haunted look, her fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of her chair as if she were calculating the possible implications.
Even those who typically held their stoicism faltered. Lady Zhao Xu’s lips tightened, her gaze narrowing as she processed the ominous message hidden within the poem. The whispers from House Vanreispell were barely audible but carried the weight of dread. From my position beside Mother, I could see the shift in everyone’s posture, the subtle tightening of their jaws, and the shared glances of fear and uncertainty.
"This… was spoken by the Pariah?" one of the independent delegates finally whispered, their voice barely more than a breath.
I nodded, the heavy tension pressing down on my chest.
Mother remained composed, her icy eyes scanning the room. "The Eye of Devour," she said slowly, her voice cutting through the thickening fear. "It is not just a prophecy. It is a warning. The Pariah believes this fate is inevitable, and we cannot afford to ignore the possibility."
Lord Zhao Shen Jie coughed, his frail frame seeming smaller in the wake of the poem's foreboding power. “If the Pariah truly seeks to control fate, then this Eye… it could be the tool he uses to bind us all.”
The atmosphere became stifling, the gravity of the situation hanging over each of us like a storm waiting to break. The future, once uncertain but hopeful, now seemed shadowed by the growing presence of the Eye.
"Then we must prepare," Lady Silverine finally said, her voice steady but low. "For whatever comes next."
No one dared disagree.
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