It took them four days to get back, on account of Feyrith not having magic to protect them against the beasts anymore. But at least worrying about their safety had kept Feyrith's mind distracted from what was to come.

Unfortunately, that distraction was long gone, now that he was standing in front of the tall, ornate door to the Council's chamber, waiting for them to let him in. He was terrified, of course. He'd never actually stood before the Council like this, only having spoken with a few of its members alone, but he would have to keep calm.

There was no one here to see him practically shake with anxiousness, but that did little to help him. Soon, there would be up to twenty of the most powerful magic users in the world staring him down as he explained his failure.

If he hadn't learned what he had, he would have likely decided against coming here in the first place. He would rather the elves thought he was dead than have them banish him, but this needed to be done. No one had yet noticed his lack of magic, as he hadn't been forced to use it, but there was no point in trying to hide it.

Feyrith stared at the dark, marble walls of the hall he was standing in with sadness, knowing that this would be one of the last moments he'd see them in his life. Thinking about that only made him feel worse, but he couldn't stop. He would never see any of this again. Once he left Aendor, there would be no coming back for him. And the only time he could catch a glimpse of the island would be when standing on the opposite coast.

He flinched as the door suddenly swung open, illuminating the hall with the sunlight coming through the Council chamber's glass, bulbous ceiling. It was time.

Feyrith swallowed, trying not to look too nervous as he walked in, keeping his head bowed. But even like this, he could see that most of the chairs on the two podiums around him were empty. That was disappointing, albeit not surprising, he supposed. The Councilors had important things to do, and an elf from the Third Circle was hardly a priority, no matter what he had to say. Feyrith had stressed that this was important, but as long as some would listen to him, he supposed it didn't matter.

"Feyrith Senari Werion," said the Councilor directly facing him as Feyrith arrived at the thin lectern in the middle of the room. All of the seats for the Councilors were elevated to six feet above the floor Feyrith was standing on, making them even more intimidating.

The Councilor leaned onto the banister in front of her, her face completely free of expression. It was quite jarring after spending more than a week with humans. "You have not used your communication stone as instructed. Explain."

Feyrith almost sighed. As if that was important right now. But he had to do this by the rules. "It was stolen from me." A mutter went around the room as the six Councilors present exchanged their opinions about it. Feyrith didn't wait to be prompted to continue. "Another elf took it."

This time, a deathly silence filled the large room, the Councilors staring at him with barely disguised shock.

"Another elf?" a Councilor repeated, his voice laced with doubt. As Feyrith risked a glance at him, he suddenly noticed that Councilor Hellan wasn't here either. She was the one who had sent him on this mission in the first place, and she wasn't even interested in what she had to say? No, she must have been too busy with something.

"That is impossible. There are none of our operatives in that area," another Councilor argued dismissively.

"She was not with the Council," Feyrith continued, doing his best to ignore the stunned silence. He needed to use it to tell them everything he knew. They were not convinced so far, but hopefully explaining the situation would make them believe him. "In the ruins, she attacked me, and...took my magic."

Yet another stunned silence followed, but this time Feyrith didn't manage to continue talking before one of the Councilors did. "What do you hope to gain from such lies?"

Feyrith found himself surprisingly angry with the elf who'd said this, but he didn't get a chance to respond.

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"That is preposterous," another said, speaking directly to the other Councilor. "No elf would lie about not having magic. We all know what it would mean."

"Perhaps he has been Cursed and invented this story to make us consider letting him stay."

"No one has ever received the Curse in adulthood, Kilren."

"Then how else do you explain this impossible story?"

Very quickly, the conversation became impossible to understand as the Councilors started speaking over each other, their usually neutral, cold tones angry and confused.

As Feyrith listened to the chaos, his urge to do something started to build. He wasn't even sure what. He just knew he couldn't listen to this anymore. They were more interested in creating theories to explain away what Feyrith was saying rather than listen to him.

Perhaps it was his new lack of magic, or perhaps it had been the influence of humans, but he'd never felt such sharp irritation and impatience as he was feeling now.

And as the dialogue around him got ever louder, he did what he'd never thought he would or could. He shouted at the Council.

"Listen to me!"

All of them fell silent, too shocked to react. And Feyrith would be too if whatever had made him say that wasn't pushing him to keep going.

"I did not lie. I wish all of this was not the truth, but it is. An elf attacked me and took my magic. And there are more like her out there. I do not know how it is possible, but it is."

The silence that followed was completely stifling. Feyrith knew he had no reason to care anymore—they would banish him either way—but he immediately regretted his outburst and felt ashamed of having done so. He needed to make them hear him out, but he shouldn't have done it like this. They would have given him time to speak, surely.

"Do you have any proof of your claim?"

Feyrith opened his mouth, about to snap at the Councilor that his lack of magic should be enough for that, but he said nothing. He didn't have any tangible proof of what had happened to him. But he wouldn't let that stop him.

"Is my word not enough?"

The Councilors looked over at each other, still not convinced. Feyrith could feel his utter frustration building. He'd never been suspected of lying by any other elf. Why were they so reluctant to believe him? Why would he have made this up?

"Did you discover what is the source of the energies in those ruins?" one of them finally asked, making Feyrith sigh and duck his gaze.

"No."

"Very well, then we need to send someone more capable there," the Councilor said, barely sounding like she cared. And her uninterested tone only became more apparent as she continued. "As for you, on accounts of your own admission to being Cursed—"

"I didn't—"

"I suggest you be stripped of your rank immediately, and banished," she finished, narrowing her eyes at Feyrith for interrupting her. "All in favor?"

Feyrith felt like he was being crushed under the weight of his despair as all of the Councilors raised their hands in unison. They didn't even wait for him to react, getting up as soon as the decision had been made and officially proclaimed and leaving through the many doors behind them before Feyrith could muster any kind of response.

Feyrith leaned onto the lectern in front of him, his eyes stinging with tears of frustration and a hopeless sense of confusion. Why did they not care? Why did they not take him seriously? He had been ready to be banished, he'd known it would happen, but this.... He just didn't understand. Whoever they sent to the ruins instead of him might face the same fate as he did—it would be irresponsible to not listen to Feyrith about what exactly had happened.

None of this made sense or felt right. Unless....

Feyrith's frowned. What if they had believed him, but they pretended not to because the truth was too frightening to accept? Feyrith would have never doubted the Council, but they'd acted irrationally just now, brushing him off instead of hearing him out fully before making a decision. The Council taught them to never think with their emotions, and only listen to facts and logic, so what did it mean when the Council themselves let their emotions rule their minds?

Feyrith swallowed, pulling himself up to his full height. There was the bitter taste of betrayal in his mouth as anger slowly replaced his confused sorrow. He'd never been angry with the Council, let alone as angry as he was right now, but he wasn't interested in hiding those feelings at the moment.

Fine, then. If the High Council wasn't interested in dealing with and investigating this new threat, then perhaps he would.

It sounded crazy to even consider, but if the last few days had taught him anything, it hadn't been magic that had saved him constantly—it had been two humans and a Cursed elf, using nothing but their weapons and wits. And besides, his only hope of getting his magic back were the elven traitors who had taken it in the first place, so if he wanted to ever come back from his banishment, this was the only way.

But this was also bigger than him, much bigger. If there were elves out there using their magic for evil, what would that mean for the humans, the ones whose safety was their ultimate mission to ensure?

Feeling strangely invigorated by these thoughts and his barely contained fury, Feyrith turned around, marching out of the Council's Chamber, his footsteps echoing loudly.

He wasn't ready to give up just yet, and while he still had yet to discover just what was happening here and why, he knew one thing—he was not yet defeated, and this was far from over.