Nine more moons passed. The next council meeting was soon at hand. Throughout the time training Farra felt episodes of fatigue and chose largely to avoid communication with all but Valen and Erres. Each pushed his teachings and training respectively upon her, ensuring she was versed in both rune magic and swordplay.

Erres remained true to his word over the course; though he had become more thoughtful of Farra's circumstance after their dispute over Verrika, recognizing the need to let the girl grow into her own not just with the blade, but also aspirations. He changed the weapons with which they sparred constantly early on in their training, exposing Farra to a number of swords that could possibly suit her preferred control over the blade. She came to favor a smaller, slightly curved blade with a single edge. Its heft was smaller, designed specifically to accommodate her smaller hands, but still long enough for her to grasp with both hands. Erres contested for a moment, that she was choosing it simply for ease of use, and perhaps she shouldn't overlook advantages other weapons may offer. Her response was practical. “There is no need for me to choose a blade needing significant mastery, the goal is for me to display I'm a capable soldier isn't it?” Erres conceded to her reasoning, and in response, from that point on he came to confront her favored blade with numerous armaments, testing how she managed against each weapon given her choice. Her movements became quicker and more precise. Though she relied upon her sight to inform her of what was coming, her body began becoming accustom to having to react to what she saw in a decisive manner.

Valen's teachings were rigorous through and through, challenging Farra's ability to focus mentally when she was already physically exhausted. As Farra progressed, coming to understand more than basic runes and how they are conjoined with others for varying effects, she felt the need for actual experimentation and practicing etching. While the need to scour through various books for information remained, Valen and his students seeking to expand their knowledge would assist Farra with exploring some of the effects of runes when a particular combination seemed potentially hazardous for the tower's enclosed space. Valen himself became less and less cryptic, or perhaps it was Farra who came to understand more and more what the implication of Valen's words were. His desire to know Farra would be studious herself was satisfied, and so he would take the time to spare her needless pains in scouring books for a particular piece of information that would rectify her understanding if she brought the question to him. A secondary goal lied in her studies. Valen desired for Farra to inscribe the blade she became acquainted with, to dabble in augmentation for armaments. Among a few of the pupils who were particularly interested, a time was set aside where they all gathered and observed Valen guide the feirin through a process, involving engraving the blade, applying a specific ink to best amplify each rune, and then apply a coat to ensure its longevity. The end product was simple, but demonstrated where Farra's studies carried her. When enchanted, the blade glowed with a molten heat that was able to whittle away at the durability of what it touched coupled with two other runes. One meant to influence various runes output without altering the runes themselves to a limited extent, and the other to simply serve as a support to reinforce the blade’s retainment of magical energy after being enchanted.

While a wide array of other knowledge remained with Farra, the practicality of her using it in the midst of any kind of engagement was unlikely. While she could certainly help inscribe runes of various purpose and power given the correct tools upon a multitude of surfaces, a perennial problem remained. That was carrying the tools on oneself without limiting movement as well as finding the opportunity in combat to conduct the procedure.

She mused the idea, testing it against Erres for herself, finding his aggressiveness and the size of the pit they trained in to be far too limited. It was in one bout she succeeded in using her foot to inscribe a large rune upon the arena flooring, in fact luring Erres in his movements to complete the rune himself, activating it and procuring a gust which blew her own self out of the arena and off her feet. Erres stood impressed that she managed the feat, but reprimanded her after for not considering the possibility of it backfiring.

The intent was to throw Erres off balance, but some misgivings about its design caused it to backfire. Farra well understood why armaments were the preferred application of rune magic after the event. However, the thought lingered in her mind, of moving past armament augmentation and to more augmenting her own physical abilities.

But tonight those thoughts were vanquished from her mind, replaced with trepidation of how aggressive the council might be. Her blade was sheathed at her side. She sported her typical tunic, lacking any mail underneath, complete with leggings providing mild protection from the cold. Her shoes were of a simple design, small and leathery as to allow her movements. An unusual thing Farra had never done before was brush her tails. It was something that feirins tended to do when preparing for ceremonies of any kind. She took the time to ensure they were properly tended to, scraping and washing away any bits of dirt. The process felt troublesome and lengthy, but this council felt as much about appearances as it did anything else, Farra would be representing both Lord Erres and Lord Valen's work, it would hardly do them justice to appear unbecoming. She brushed her flowing hair with her fingers, giving it attention similar to that of her tails.

“It’s time we depart.” Valen remarked succinctly. His hand pressed to the wall of the Oracle, a chunk of the wall in the form of a grand panel glowing with the large inscription that laid across it. It opened, and behind it lie a sword so mighty that Farra put forth her best effort to not gawk. After all, surely other soldiers at the council would be awe-inspiring and fear-inducing, though maybe none perhaps as Lord Valen she felt. The sword was less any kind of blade, and more a gigantic obsidian slab with crude edges. Inscriptions of which some Farra understood were etched all over its flat, different across its two sides. Valen lifted the weapon onto his back where his armor secured it. The wall's panel shut. Farra nodded, touching her hand to the door to unseal the tower. The gate parting filled her ears, after which constant clamoring of boots filled the darkness.

“It is quite noisy.” Farra remarked, turning onto the promenade.

“No doubt because of the council today. It is a meeting between lords and other high-ranking members of the faction, but often one will delegate someone to attend in their stead to represent them. And often they bring with them warriors for no other reason than intimidation. It leads to a restless feeling within the temple grounds, as those of lower rank will not be tolerated at the council. Thus you have soldiers wandering about, seeking to pass time but not knowing how, tying the temple guards' hands with ensuring no discord occurs.”

“Would I not be considered a lower ranking soldier then?”

“You are one of interest at this council, the exception has already been made.”

“Then I am certain some of these soldiers might look at me with annoyance.”

“Perhaps so. But you cannot help that, and if it comforts you any, a number might have no inkling of what your involvement in today's matters will be.

Valen traveled closer to the center of the road with Farra on his outside. Soldiers would pass by, some able to put rumors to Farra's appearance, craning their heads before turning forward to avoid any reaction from Valen. A darkness sat on the temple grounds, hazy and obscuring the distance. Farra heard the continual treading of greaves against the ground, the rattlings of metal armor and clashing of blades.

“It would seem some have decided to engage in some sparring to pass time before the council's beginnings. Troublesome.”

“Why is that my lord?”

“Some will not concede easily when they have lost, and can carry that bitter climate to the time of the council. It is more an issue among soldiers accompanying their commanding officers or lords.”

The two drew near, and Farra could see an ornate structure emerging from the darkness. Within the variety of sounds coming from numerous individuals, Farra distinguished the sound of flowing and falling water. The structure was circular and open on one side, positioned up against the rising mountains to where it seemed as if part of it was not built because of the obstruction. Stone pillars rose all around, supporting the structure across its various floors. As the two nearing closer on the bending promenade, a road stemmed off to the entrance of the council's meeting place. Across the crude stone ground off road, swords and other armaments smacked together in battle. Some stopped their fighting, turning and peering at Lord Valen, then Farra walking beside him.

She could sense a mixture of emotions from their gazes, not turning to acknowledge their observing her, keeping her head forward as some looked with curiosity, others with animosity.

“It is perhaps not the best time to mention this Lord Valen, maybe one of these warriors has very good hearing.”

“Hold your thoughts for now then.”

She nodded, keeping her eyes forward again as they closed toward the entrance. Up close the structure was just as impressive and regal in design. A guard stood on each side of the rising gate, wearing armor that shimmered with a pristine shine in comparison to a number of the other armors. Their weapons were sheathed at their side, but even the scabbards themselves were emblazoned with runes.

“Lord Valen, it is an honor.”

“Ours as well, warriors of the temple.”

Valen spared only words, not pausing or shifting his head. Farra glanced to the side with the slightest bow of her head in acknowledgment, the soldier offering no motion in return. The interior stemmed three directions, an incline to each side rising into the second floor, and a way forward that led into the center, where Farra presumed most cast their attention.

“We will go ahead.”

“Into the middle?”

“Around the side is more seating.”

She affirmed with a gulp, traveling through the tunnel that seemed to accommodate Valen's size and no more. Farra walked behind him, almost completely enveloped in darkness. Her mind wandered, the amount of presences nearby felt overpowering to her foresight, she did her best to block out all the movements from her mind, knowing they were of little interest. Before she realized, Valen's figure disappeared left around the corner, and the center of the council structure came into view. Her lips parted for a moment, but she clasped them back shut, containing her awe. Two figures stood in the center, one taller than the other, garbed in ornate armor of a profound design, and the other stockier with more muscle, wearing an armored raiment that possessed an otherworldly glisten. But it was not those two that made Farra look on in awe, it was the structure itself. The water she had heard earlier flowed down into the ground level. The center was composed of rings alternating between water and solid stone, with a sizable circular stone platform in the middle. Where the water came from, where it went, she had no idea. But tiny creatures danced along it, illuminating the darkness. Further into the structure, she saw a single tree, growing inside the flowing water, against the mountain upon which the a stone path extended out to partway before ending abruptly.

“Farra.”

The call of her name broke her from the stupor, turning to her left to find Valen, Erres, Kaladin, and Gare situated beneath an alcove that acted as the seating for the first floor. She glanced around the other floors, finding some eyes that were at the appropriate angle looking down at her, but a number also absorbed in their own conversations. She hurried to her familiar party's side, unaware of the eyes of the two center figures set upon her.

“I apologize.”

“It's fine, seat yourself.” Erres spoke back, a space available between him and Valen.

“How long have you been here Lord Erres? And Gare, it is pleasant to see you again.”

Gare gave a grunt to acknowledge her presence when Erres spoke again.

“Not long, it will be a little before matters commence. It typically takes Lady Bathalian and Lord Raom, or least his delegate a bit more time to arrive. And the meeting will not begin before they are represented.”

“Lady Bathalian?”

“She holds command over the northern and central territory of the war faction, simply she is the female equivalent of a lord.”

“A female equivalent.” Farra, placed her blade between her legs to make her sitting more comfortable. “How many lords are there?”

Gare mused over from Erres other side, “Did you want to become one, why so surprised?”

“Please I have no interest in such things, my desire is to serve and be a dutiful soldier for Lord Erres.” A fluster overcame Farra before she smiled, feeling more at ease around the familiar warriors since arriving.

“There are five territorial lords in total, Lord Raom to the far east, Lady Bathalian in the northern and central lands, and Lord Mellor to the southern and central lands. Lord Valen and I oversee the southern and northern lands surrounding the temple grounds respectively.”

“Five in total then... but there seems to be many more here than just five lords and their parties.”

“You underestimate the size of their court, and ours. This entire left wing of the first floor and some of the right wing is occupied with high-ranking officers from within my own and Lord Valen's territory. You haven't become familiar with too many of them, but surely you remember our first meeting with many of my officers standing around me. Many of them are here. And just as they are here, in similar and exceeding numbers the other lords have officers present. And that is to say nothing of officers or individuals who are treated strictly to lie directly under the Warlords' command.”

“Who might they be?”

“A varying amount, they're something between the rank of the lords' officers and the lords themselves. They are those trusted enough for important duties and operations the Warlords deem worthy, while not holding a grip on any territory.”

“I think... I begin to see what you mean Lord Erres, still it is quite an amount to understand.”

“It's nothing you should be overly concerned with at any rate, do your duty as a soldier, do it well, your good conduct and expertise will be rewarded.”

“Wait, where is Teilve?”

“Attending matters, we can’t pull every single officer, there are still tasks to be done outside the council.”

She nodded when a woman with pointed ears just beyond Erres' stature rounded the wall, poking her head at the two lords surrounding her with a wry smile, then at Farra.

“So this is the feirin you two have been enamored with?” She stepped under the alcove, closer. Her hair was long and silky, her body garbed with a tight robe, composed of a flowing material that seemed of a rare quality. She leaned over to examine Farra, the feirin maintaining a straight face and backing her face slightly to avoid the woman's chest obscuring her view.”

“Lady Bathalian?” Farra inquired, shifting back. Farra could feel an aura of elegance, if not vanity around this woman. One more interested in status than any sort of higher meaning or purpose.

“Oh, good. You know my name then. I suppose even Lord Valen and Lord Erres are not so bold as to forgo mentioning their equals existence.”

“Please do not stand so close, it makes me feel uncomfortable.”

The woman's eyes sharpened, scrutinizing Farra.

“Have Lord Erres nor Lord Valen taught you how to remain obedient to a superior?”

“Lady Bathalian, I request it only out of a desire for respect of my space. I apologize if it comes as something else.”

An irritated smile cracked back across Bathalian's lips, finding Farra's straightforward and difficult to misdirect answer an annoyance.

“Very well.”

Valen spoke in place of Farra's quiet, immediately bringing the conversation to something of his interest. “Lady Bathalian, have you perhaps come to agree to some common goal towards which to work prior to the meeting? To have the Lady, an individual of your power standing with us, it would be a great boon to the faction as a whole.”

“To deem subservience to this young Lord Erres?”

“That is part of it yes, of course you would see an increase in your power as well with a new flow of weaponry, spells, and knowledge. But you should not see it as subservience to Lord Erres, but the opportunity to work with and further his cause which will in turn help our own.”

“Subservience is far less empowering than whatever manner of war good or benefit you would provide. I and many others of my territory are more than capable of conducting magics that do not need to rely on your creations, just as so many others do in this world. The supposed need to unify the faction and begin spreading use of rune magic en masse is a narrative you and Lord Erres push to further your own agendas. My opinion on the matter has not changed from the past meeting, nor will it change now.”

Farra felt her body tense at the calling of Valen's magic useless. She took a breath, looking up at the woman who revealed her combative nature. But Erres spoke before any other could.

“Your individualistic thinking divides us. We are not enemies or adversaries with one another, there are those outside these lands that would be gleeful to see us rip one another apart.”

“Your pleas fall on deaf ears Lord Erres, for you have procured no evidence of a tried and true enemy. Only scuttling with random creatures of the darkness. To the east lies the moonlit lands, where savages hold a grasp over resources only by virtue of a goddess. Lord Raom if any of us, has the most experience in dealing with thinking enemies.”

Farra raised her head, speaking before Erres could.

“You implied you were a mage did you not Lady Bathalian?”

The woman paused.

“I am a mage indeed yes. Do not think that discounts me as a warrior.”

Farra shook her head. “I would not dare assume such things after setting my eyes upon Lord Valen. What I mean to ask, is that if you are a mage, have you not heard the whispers?”

“Many of us in these accursed lands have heard the whispers; if you are talking about what I think you may be. Whatever meaning they hold, whatever significance they might have, those whispers are too weak to reach within our territory.”

“But those whispers are of the enemy, don't you think?”

“An enemy that assumes no true form, an enemy that is as much of an enemy as the darkness itself, which is to say, only if you allow it to be. I did not think you would take such an easily frightened girl under your wings, lords.”

“And I did not think you were so blind to not fathom the concerns of a girl and former slave who survived in the darkness. What experience have you venturing it alone Lady Bathalian? What she speaks of may be none other than a goddess of darkness, something that is a true enemy as any other. You decide to be ignorant when we know evidence to suggest as much, as well as word of the Warlords themselves.”

Bathalian raised a finger, tapping it against her cheek, looking on with apparent annoyance at the young Lord Erres.

“Then procure such evidence young lord.” She glared daggers at each of them, when a call came from the center grounds. A powerful voice began to bellow.

“Return to the seating of your choosing at once so we can commence this meeting. Dawdle and you can find my axe in battle.”

Without another word, Bathalian left the alcove, moving across one of the stone rings to a sloped that spiraled upward, linking all floors of the structure together. Since their conversations the structure had become a deal more packed, most notably on a particular wing from which Farra could barely see from her seat, but could clearly the increasing ruckus coming from it. The stout figure in the middle yelled again for silence. Farra could see now this individual had gray rough skin, like that of the individual she met outside the Oracle when with Teilve.

“We gather here as an extension of the last meeting. We will further discuss the implications of Lord Erres' findings on his southern expedition and the events that transpired, address the concern the moonlit lands pose toward our eastern front, and dispose guidance regarding the roaming beast tribes that have been of recent discovery across the territories. We will conclude with discussions of various resource sites and deliberate how to allocate the slaves among them. Warlord Ranalian.”

Farra saw the slimmer of the two figures, one who also had pointed ears with flowing, ghastly blond hair, even within the dim light, step forward, clearing his throat before speaking. The man was slender, with a certain regality that matched that of one unfit for combat. Despite that outward appearance, on each side along his similarly ornate armor, were smaller bent blades with Valen's handiwork inscribed.

“Thank you Warlord Nirkosh. I can see that Lord Raom has delegated to elect one to stand for his presence, as such it is critical to hear your input on the proceeding matter delegate. We will first discuss the the moonlight lands to the East. As per the last meeting, you claimed there was increasing aggression by followers of an opposing goddess. Through methods I shall not disclose, I have sent loyal sentries to determine the accuracy of those statements. They have been corroborated, but not with the entire accuracy you represented them with the previous meeting. To elaborate one must first understand what we have held the composition of the moonlight faction to be. They are lands that fully promote tribalism, or at the very least, do not oppose it. As such, one cannot entirely ascertain whether it was aggression by an opposing faction or simply an unruly tribe being aggressive. The eastern front has indeed been assaulted, but you must offer a measured response to avoid aggravating a force of greater power.”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

From highest floor of the structure, a delegate dropped down, bending his knees and diverting the impact of his fall. Farra sighed, relieved that it was at least not the man whom Teilve and her had a run in with outside Valen's tower. But to her surprise she saw a beast, a man with low, heavily-furred ears and a thick tail to match, resembling that of a wolf.

“I, Sievin will receive and deliver messages in Lord Raom's stead today. Warlord Ranalian, it is with utmost respect that I first inquire of your language. You said 'you must offer a measured response.' I would ask if that means not only must we strike back at the tribe without aid, but should they assault our lands, does Lord Raom's forces stand alone?”

“In the case our lands are truly assaulted by a force befitting that of another god or goddess, the faction would of course lend its aid, under command of the Warlords no less as per our code. However for a matter such as this, a tribal incursion, you are expected as your territory to fully handle the problem on your own. Should you desire to request assistance of the other lords or their officers, that is your choice. But myself nor Lord Nirkosh will call the entirety of our army to war over such petty matters. If you wish for such a united front, might I suggest you consider to deliberate with Lord Valen and Lord Erres. Their lands are closer here to these temple grounds and far closer within our sight. Lord Nirkosh and I both see the benefits of their actions and how they bolster each others forces.”

An unrest built among the various floors, a gargle of words that Farra could hardly have hoped to discern any particular voice through, until a voice befitting of Lady Bathalian pierced the rest.

“You mean to suggest we entrust ourselves to Lord Erres’ way of things?”

“I know not of the exact conditions with which Lord Erres and Lord Valen conduct their matters. I see that they both lend each other aid when it is needed, and help one another even when it is not. The enchanted armaments Valen procures are undoubtedly a boon for even maintained forces. That said, It is still Sievin's place to speak.”

“Thank you Warlord. For the time being then, I shall deliver these words back to Lord Raom, along with your suggestion to settle matters within our territory unless ample danger should arise threatening control over our lands.”

Ranalian bowed, Sievin returning the motion, followed by Ranalian waving his hand to signal the beast to return to his court.

“Perhaps then with those words said, it would be best to proceed on a similar note, that is to discuss the straying beast tribes within our territories. This comes less as of a matter brought for contentious discussion, but the Warlords' command upon which a brief open forum will be had to discuss our recommended course of action. Several lords, Lord Mellor, Lady Bathalian, and Lord Erres all have brought to us the awareness of wandering beast tribes within our lands. None that pose a threat according to reconnaissance, but could be a nuisance, or even a boon. Because of recent operations we have diminished our slave supply. The suggestion has been brought forth to allow these tribes to cultivate, before raiding and inducting them into our ranks whether it be for slave labor, in the case they can make proper soldiers, or simply use as a resource for our existing forces. To simply kill them off would be a waste of life, so consider this course of action a strong recommendation before you speak. Be mindful also, that someone most harvest the resources at our various sites, if not slaves then lower-ranking soldiers most likely.”

Quite grumbling ensued before a voice unfamiliar but hardened and aged, spoke over the rest as his side quieted.

“Warlord Ranalian. Your suggestion for the tribes comes as no surprise nor unwise to me. I only wish to hear you further divulge your thoughts on one detail in this matter. You float the idea of slaves making for soldiers. While in theory I do not see why such a thing would be considered impossible. But surely both warlords have contemplated such an approach throwing the balance of our faction's ranks and how slaves see both themselves and others into a manner of contort?”

“Allow me, Warlord Ranalian.” Ranalian stepped to the side for Nirkosh.

“Lord Mellor, your concerns are warranted and understandable. And we both perceive that your question not lies in concern for yourself, but the stability of our faction in its entirety. In our discourse over the years, Warlord Ranalian and I held one belief steadfast. That for a warrior, for any fledgling, there is an opportunity to prove oneself. Slaves are not void of this right. Should we induct a tribe into our ranks it involves killing those that oppose it, taking their resources, and assimilating their strength for our own. Part of that assimilation can come in part by discovering whether or not the individuals would make for faithful soldiers tried and true, perhaps more capable than some we have now. These lands are ever-changing, ever-evolving, and to sit and presume we can persist without a manner of change at all is foolery. It is because I am an orc, and Warlord Ranalian is an elf, that we in part represent the potential for which this faction which sees past much of its racial divides can accomplish. Treating and inducting a tribe to be slaves without care for their strength speaks to ineptitude. It is by merit alone with which our faction must be compromised. We will welcome no more words on the matter.”

A protest came across some floors of the structure, before Nirkosh slammed the pole of his axe into the ground, screaming for silence as a shockwave flowed through the air, silencing every bit of noise within the winds. Each lord knew not to protest, the action intimidated the various officers who continued protesting into silence.

“Then if you would allow me Warlord Nirkosh. I shall speak of the next matter relating to Lord Erres and his incursion south of our lands. To remind those from the last council, Lord Erres detailed the events of the expedition southward, including the Silver Knight's demise, the monsters with which his ensemble encountered, Farra's talents as a combatant, and the Oracle's success with mass teleportation.”

Farra swallowed, she had been listening to the exchanges and matters being discussed so intently, the reason she was here slipped her mind. For every previous issue discussed, she felt as if something could vaguely be referencing her or relating to her being here.

“I will state now lords and officers alike, this shall not be the place for petty quarrels to supplant the true issues at hand. We shall not speak ill of a passed soldier for expedience-”

An undesirable voice spoke, just as Ranalian was beginning to bar certain aspects of the matter.

“Warlord Ranalian, I too understand the distaste with which it is to speak of a fallen soldier who no longer stands here to defend her own self. But to think we have nothing to gain of discussing her demise still is hasty. It is not my intent to supplant the core issues with distasteful discussion, but we now have the view of another member who was at the expedition, and in fact Verrika sacrificed herself to save. Surely that would add value to keeping the Silver Knight's demise open for discussion.”

“Very well. However if I or Warlord Nirkosh perceive words to be as nothing more than slights against Verrika's good name, we will silence you at once.”

“Yes Warlord.”

“The monsters have been taken note of and cataloged, as said previously, and venturing into the desert makes for a particularly dangerous task. Any Lord, particularly you Lord Mellor as you are closest to the desert, should proceed with due caution. Before we conduct a test of Farra's capabilities as Lady Bathalian, Lord Raom's delegate, and numerous officers requested, let us address the matter of teleportation now that Lord Valen has had time to look over the results. Lord Valen if you would please come and address the council.”

“Yes Warlord.” Valen rose, ducking his head to not bump it against the roof of the alcove, treading out into the open with mighty steps, his body rising toward the second floor.

“Upon further introspection into the process, I and students have concluded it to be a potentially viable way of moving large forces around with less wear than traveling would be. The side effects of teleportation while potentially painful to some, is more than valuable. It is likely in the worst of cases, teleportation may require a frail individual a full day of recovery. When traveling great distances it is more than sufficient. I would propose establishing beacons to traveling around our lands quicker, unifying movement across them. When considering using mass teleportation as a means of escape, I suggest against it. Due to fluctuations in conditions, inscribing the proper runes necessary to initiate teleportation cannot be properly relied upon. It is no secret that the unstable ground was what originally caused the issue in the desert, and so something one can fail to account for can happen just as easily in battle. At the very least.” Valen's voice shifted from one of strategy to one that was incredulous. “Do consider it for making occasional trips to the temple grounds shorter, particularly those of you in Lord Raom's domain. That concludes my findings. I will accept any questions should lord, officer, or you Warlords have them.”

There was silence. None took issue with Valen's findings, and none found it advantageous to discuss the vein in which he recommended the utilization of the magic. He conceded its shortcomings before any could, not trying to present it as a means more than what it could fulfill. Farra already knew now that using the rune magic in the midst of combat was quite more problematic than it would initially seem.

“Then we now request Lord Erres and Farra both come forth.”

Farra and Erres stood, proceeding from the alcove, more grumbles could be heard. Farra felt an uncountable pairs of eyes observe her, taking note of the feirin which Valen and Erres supported. Valen passed the two back to the alcove in silence, and now Farra stood before the Warlords in quiet. Despite what she had anticipated, these two did not seem to hold any harshness toward her, rather looking her up and down, glancing to her blade and observing its form. Their eyes felt far less harsh in fact, than any of the lord's had initially. She took a breath, feeling her heart pound within her chest.

“Be at ease girl.” The orc spoke hushed to where none outside the center could hear. “We mean not to antagonize a warrior so young, but circumstances have brought us to this.”

Ranalian stepped forward to address the council. Farra turned, various figures on numerous sizes garbed in armors and robes. Though she had felt it in her mind, to see the scowls and judgment across faces with her own eyes tested her resolve.

“Continuing from the past council, many voiced their concern that Lord Erres so willingly took a fledgling slave under his wing, trusting her abilities over that of a seasoned warrior, and by doing so suggest it was the reason the Silver Knight was felled in battle. I will take a moment to say bluntly, that in all my years in combat, the battlefield is wrought with danger and tragedy, that it is never to simple to attribute an outcome to one single factor. However, it is within the right of a warrior and soldier, to call into question the capability of their leadership in whose lives they trust, to be making the proper decisions. As requested by many of you, we shall see whether Farra is one showing the workings of a promising soldier, or that Lord Erres and Lord Valen are misplacing their faith. We have construed a manner by which to trial Farra with approval various parties as to ensure it was deemed a proper test. Before we commence, are there any words to be had for Lord Erres and Farra, regarding any relation to expedition? Be succinct and do not embellish your questions.”

Without hesitation, Bathalian stood among her court.

“Farra. Have you contemplated the consequences of Lord Erres decision to bring you on such a dangerous expedition? Did his request seem reasonable given the time of knowing and testing you, or was he hasty and in doing so sacrificed the life of a soldier dear to all of us?”

“Do not embellish.” Ranalian spoke curt, before Farra stepped forward to answer.

The feirin glanced around, seeing so many alien faces of various races looking upon her, judging her to their own specifications, seeing whether or not she had the makings of a potential warrior, knowing it was through her both Valen and Erres would be judged..

“Lord Erres has granted me an opportunity that I wish to take advantage of...I was just a slave, and before that even as a member of my tribe I was undesirable. It is not my place to judge Lord Erres actions right or wrong, of being in good sense or not. As his soldier and weapon, is it my duty to trust in his decisions, and best see to his success. I have little experience to speak of in the way of true battle. But if you wish to know how I felt out in that desert, I was afraid. But I had no choice to trust those around me and do what they expected of me.”

Farra glanced downward, before looking back up to a snide Bathalian.

“I did not ask Verrika to save my life from the mouth of that monster. And in her attempt to save me she made a misstep that I somehow managed to pull us from...by only a miracle of instinct and the desire to survive.”

“Then you claim that she threw her life away?”

“I do not claim anything of that sort.”

Farra stepped forward, gazing back at Bathalian with sharp eyes.

“Then what is your stance on Verrika's decision?”

“She wound up sacrificing herself to save me. She could not save both of us because she was too weak to do so. I will carry on her memory by becoming stronger than her, somehow. I don't think I am stronger than her now, but I will get there. And Lord Erres and Lord Valen both have defended and trust me up to this point. Even if I became stronger than either of them, I would still follow their wishes, for I have seen with my own two eyes they are interested in the best for the War Faction and these lands.”

“An outspoken brat.” Bathalian sat with a chuckle, pleased with rousing Farra.

The feirin's voice dropped to a hush whisper, the adrenaline from her argument being replaced with a heated fluster. “I am sorry Lord Erres.”

“You have no reason to be, rather I should be for having my action's defended by one as young as you. I am once again acting unbefitting of a lord.”

Farra shook her head side to side with a smile aimed back at Erres before another voice interrupted.

An officer besides the delegate from Raom's domain stood.

“Why is a slave like her looked upon with such favoritism by Lord Erres and Lord Valen? What is to say they don’t seek to replace must of us outright with weaker and less capable hands so long as those hands serve their interests?”

Clamor ensued, before Nirkosh motioned for silence.

“Your cries of envy and insecurity do naught but embarrass Lord Raom.” The man sat at the Warlord's words.

“I will assume that no one else has words for Lord Erres and Farra save for attempting to belittle either of them. We will commence the agreed upon tests. Lord Erres return to your seat.”

“Yes Warlord.”

Erres passed a glance to Farra, obliging and slowly stepping from the center platform, back to where Valen sat. With Erres' absence, Farra felt a slight nervousness about her, worried she had spoken of turn, and would fall short of expectations.

The elf warlord spoke next. “Lord Valen and Lord Erres have took to training Farra, seeking to draw out her potential. Thus we will conduct three tests. One to test the veracity of her ability. A second to test her knowledge. And a third to test her potential as a warrior. None may object to this.”

Ranalian paused, motioning in the direction of Mellor's court.

A woman with vibrant purple skin, even in the darkness, stood at Mellor's side. Farra presumed her to be a demon from two short horns protruding from her forehead in addition to another singular horn curving in a spiral from the right side of her head. On the other end was the beginning of what looked like a horn that was cut off. The woman tapped a long metal staff to the ground before lifting into the air and descending down onto the middle platform on a graceful wind.

“The first test will be simple. Some doubt the legitimacy of Farra's ability, and some wish to see it with their own eyes. In these rings of water are several leaves floating atop. Estelle will raise the leaves at her discretion using her magic. Farra is to display a competency in showing she can without any doubt, discern each movement of the water before it occurs.”

Ranalian and Nirkosh stepped back.

“Do you need to stand in the middle to do the magic?” Farra asked Estelle whom responded with a shake of her head eyes open and exposing within her soft blue bulbs that the white of her eyes was in fact black. Farra paused for a brief moment, comparing in her mind the differences between her and Kaladin. “Please then, move off to the side, I will point my sword at the leaves so it is clear I see where each is going to happen. Even if I know where they’re coming from, I don’t think I’m fast enough to cut all the leaves or anything of that sort.” Farra blushed, slightly sinking her head to the woman who nodded her own in return before obliging the request.

Without further warning or notice of the trial beginning, Farra felt a shift in the waters. Her mind took a moment to adjust, trying to block out the shifting of the audience, feeling a ripple from her side. She unsheathed the blade, pointing it the correct direction when a spout of water moments after emerged, propelling a leaf upward. Another spout came, opposite of the first. Farra swapped the blade to her other hand, once again pointing. This time a round of spouts came. It felt confusing to distinguish the rippling movements of the water from one another at first when closely placed, but Farra's movement began to pick up, predicting each spout earlier and earlier than the one prior, to the extent her ability would allow. All looked on in silence, listening to the water propel up, falling back down, and the movements of Farra's small feet shifting about when needed as the sword began to dance in her hands, pointed at the moment of every single leaf before it propelled into the air.

“That is enough.” Ranalian spoke, walking back center. “It was more than clear to my eyes that you were predicting the movements of the water with an accuracy impossible to be called luck.” A simper broke across Farra's lips.

The demon woman bowed to Farra with a smile, then floating back to her seat, seemingly pleased with the feirin’s performance.

“We will proceed to the next test. A trial to see Farra's proof of focus and capability for learning. Though we are to understand her to be magically deficient, rune magic in many regards cares not for the magical prowess of an individual so much as their intellect and dedication. Farra, this test will be open-ended. Demonstrate to us what you have learned.”

Kaladin stood, stepping forward in a monotone march and holding a bag of magical dust and jar of ink. He handed both to Farra, not making any other gesture before turning and returning to his seat.

Ranalian stepped back again.

“Anything.” Farra murmured to herself, swirling the jar of ink, examining how much might be inside, bouncing the bag of dust with her other hand.

Murmurs began among the council as Farra shifted to each part of the central platform, dipping a finger into the ink and drawing onto each quadrant of the central platform a myriad of runes that only Valen's pupils could appreciate. “Flame.” She murmured to herself, making the familiar fire rune. “Ascend.” She appended onto the same rune varying bars, signaling the motion for the spell to take. The process continued, until the central platform was etched with the entirety of the jar of ink, nearly painted a deep black-red instead of its gray stone.

“This blade's runes are not very elegant. But they are of my own making.” She unsheathed her blade, numerous officers and Bathalian looking on unimpressed. “I think it isn't very practical, but at the time it felt like a proper idea. This blade is etched with runes that allow it to act as a conductor.”

She stepped back from the various runes on the ground, opening the bag of dust, spilling it onto her blade which began to shimmer. She stepped forward, then pranced, gliding her blade along the ground and touching each rune in a specific order. One began to glow red, another brown. Their colors transferred like a circuit line before the entire platform lit the darkness with markings. Holding her blade with both hands, Farra lifted it into the sky, and with it a trail of fire followed from the runes, congealing into a ball of flame which she launched into the air with a poke of her blade. The fireball ascended, rising high above the highest floor of structure before bursting, scattering laterally in a multitude of directions and fading into the darkness.

“None of you were probably too impressed...but I used my sword to manipulate the flow of the runes, letting the power swell into something I could control. If I had thrown the dust onto the platform, it would have just blown up in a ball of fire.

”Some members of the council looked on incredulous. Valen chuckled from his seat, as did Ranalian who walked center of the council.

“Perhaps not the most practical design, but certainly demonstrating of your passion for knowledge given only ten moons of studying.”

“Thank you Warlord.” Farra bowed her head, catching herself when Ranalian motioned her upward.

“Then we come to final trial. One to test Farra's mettle as a warrior. I shall reiterate the agreed upon conditions. Lady Bathalian has selected a warrior of her choosing for the purpose of this trial. The battle will strictly take place on this inner most platform. If either combatant moves outside or falls in the water, they lose. Warlord Nirkosh will stand close to mediate the bout. If he suspects a would-be deciding blow, then he still halt it, and declare the appropriate victor. Beyond that there are no limitations. Farra is a fledgling warrior, and this bout will be considered with such in mind.”

Ranalian stepped back toward the tree. Nirkosh stepped onto the edge of the inner platform. From the sloping walkway a warrior shrouded in black cloth from the mouth downward stepped forward. At his side were two long, slick blades. Farra could discern from her sight and his movements that he had a mail underneath the cloth, coupled with lightly padded trousers and boots. Her mind raced, Bathalian selected an individual like this with the possibility of her foresight in mind, seeking to make it as hard as possible to rely upon knowing the enemy's movements. Her opponent was dressed for the occasion as well. There was little purpose in any sort of armor here, a would-be fatal blow would not land so long as Nirkosh did not allow it.

The man walked past Farra to the side Nirkosh stood on, pulling his blades from the straps they hung on by his side.Though she had trained with a ruthless Erres, she still felt fearful of fighting against an unknown opponent in front of so many.

Ranalian's voice called.

“Commence.”

He edged forward drawing his blades, shifting side to side in an attempt to rouse some movement from Farra. The feirin's ears twitched, attempting to block the scowls and aggressive motions of each individual seated along the bending rows. She exhaled, and took another breath in. Her sight narrowed to her most immediate surroundings and upon the man. She foresaw him springing forward, trying to back her against the boundary of the duel. She paused for just a moment, immediately shifting the side as he sprung, out of reach from his far arm so there was only one blade to contend with. But her blade did not come forth. She was fearful of the man's possible strength, of being able to simply shrug off a strike with one blade and counter with the other. He turned, craning over her like one would when hunting and cornering prey. A stab with just one blade was coming. Farra had no choice but to sidestep the strike, not fighting into his conservative movements, interpreting them as a means to bait out an attack from her.

She felt Nirkosh step back from behind her, avoiding interfering in the match before it was determined in any way, Farra and the man having twisted their positions about the platform.

“Running the entire time?” The man smirked.

Farra swallowed her spit, feeling helpless against the unknown opponent. Every action available to her carried immense risk, the likelihood of her being overpowered. The magical energies lingering in her blade served no purpose without a proper rune to trigger. While her blade lit with a soft flame, she could not count on connecting her blade with one of his, only to have the other deliver a counterattack. In such an enclosed arena, she had little room for any sort of misstep. But the thought occurred to her, that might be in fact what she needed. Yet it was too early to tell, and such a maneuver only would work once. Instead she kept a distance. The man didn't feel particularly quick, perhaps he was concerned with accidentally plunging forward only to miss and find himself out of the duel, but his movements felt as if they were continually trying to force her into an unfavorable position, just as Erres had been. Farra saw in her mind moments where he would pursue a flurry of strikes, each time maneuvering away to dissuade him from pursuing the action.

“What is this charade? Crush her already.” Bathalian called from above, breaking Farra's concentration for a moment when the man lunged. He attempted to stab one blade downward, guarding himself with the other. Farra angled her sword, clashing against it, hoping the man lacked the speed or presence of mind to counter the movement. Her feet stepped back when she felt his far blade begin to cut the hairs of one of her tails..

“Flame.” She yelled, the main immediately jumped back in a split moment, unsure of the meaning of her words, whether she was in fact casting magic or utilizing a rune, when in fact it was a bluff.

She gathered herself, chuckles coming from the council at her maneuver.

It was in that moment she felt his speed. He truly anticipated some sort of counterattack he had not known about, and so logically he did not hold back in trying to create distance.

But even that speed was too much for Farra. He was no where near as fast as Erres, but it was still beyond her reach. She kept the blade steady in her hand, finding herself to be short for breath simply from nerves. One of the man’s blade had made contact with her own, and so it also began to melt. But it was in nowhere near an unusable state yet, opening up no other options. The moment in which she had to perform her maneuver would be small, and in the immediate moment after she would have to try to interpret the man's response in a window smaller than if he otherwise brought himself to he. Farra could not see the consequence of her own actions, only others. She stepped back again, ensuring for fear that the worst might come to pass, stepping back to be closer to Nirkosh rather than far.

She slowly shuffled, enticing the man into an aggressive stature, edging back toward the water. Each of their movements became slower, waiting for the perfect moment with the distance between them closing. Farra stepped back one more time, her heel touching the edge of the platform, her body feigning the briefest stumble before the man snapped on the moment of her supposed recovery. Nirkosh budged closer as the man attempted to plunge his weapons from two angles at Farra, only to be surprised when she spun to a side, clashing her blade against and along the same damaged blade. The flame of her weapon melted it away and singed the man’s hand. Her blade continued down, preparing to skin the man's arm and sear his flesh. He dropped the extended blade in his other hand, pulling back. In the next moment Farra winced, dropping her blade and crumbling to the ground.

In the end Farra's physical limitations posed too great a barrier. In that moment the man dropped his blade, blocking her slash with the blade’s guard just long enough to deliver a punch to her gut followed by the heft of his melted blade bashing against the back of her skull. Nirkosh blitzed forward, grabbing the man and tossing him away with a hand, declaring it his victory as he looked over a Farra bleeding from the mouth, curled on the ground.

Her heart beat furiously. She was unable to control it, her sight perceiving the laughter of Erres' opponents. Though she was on the ground, blinded in pain, she still felt the rumblings of various individuals, speaking with one another in words she could no longer hear. Her vision blurred, as she fainted on the ground.