As the last white of moonlight disappears above, leaving only the forge’s glow to illuminate the Agglomerate, everyone falls into silence. Both the grand elders around me and the countless áed watching on from the viewing chambers above cease their chatter and movement. Only the slight whistle of wind through the glass mountain can be heard. It’s eerie, but the silence only lasts a minute.
“Before we start, I would like to address all those who have joined us today,” Hraun speaks from his composed seated position, his voice carrying with a slight application of presence so that even those behind hundreds of metres of glass can hear. “Thank you for joining us today. We appreciate your patience during these concerning times, but we must ask that you hold back any worries, discussions and actions until after the conference has concluded. We are aware of your concerns and intend to offer guidance only once we have contemplated our choices.”
“For those participating for the first time, please feel welcome to join the flames of your neighbours. We have provided enough sustenance for the length of the ceremony.” Hraun’s eyes flicker between each of the viewing chambers above as he speaks. “We shall begin upon the Eldest’s first light.”
In unison, nearly all the áed of the Agglomerate peer up through the glass mountain to the skies above. Śuri and the others laying down rise to an attentive seated position.
A pair walk in through the main entrance to our chamber, each carrying dozens of glass vials in their physical flames. They walk around the room, placing the vials before each attendant. Surprisingly enough, I’m not exempted. I don’t dare touch it until anyone else does, but the liquid within enraptures me. In a similar way that the Agglomerate shines with a rainbow of colours in daylight, this dark grey liquid disperses the glow from the forge in an array of dark blues and purples.
With only a few minutes left until the Ember Moon lights the sky from behind the Titan Alps, both áed handing out vials rush away. They climb up to the highest viewing chamber and sit alongside the thousand other áed.
I want to ask Śuri about what to expect, but in the silent atmosphere, I don’t dare. If Yalun was here, I’d feel more comfortable, but she’s not. Seriously, couldn’t Śuri have given her more than four days to return?
It is just as I think that, a streak of fire threads between the glass pillars to the south. It pierces through the top of the glass mountain and races through the tunnels, getting closer to us with each second.
Yalun? Is she really in such a hurry that she’s wasting energy like that? I mean, I’m glad to see she made it, but I know from our plentiful Kindling sessions that she doesn’t have the energy to do such a thing for long.
“Damn it, Śuri!” she gasps as soon as she breaches the chamber of grand elders. It looks like she’s about to continue berating him, but a glare from Hraun shuts her up. She drops on the rug to my other side and begins her transformation just in time for the Eldest to show herself.
As one, all the grand elders pick up the vial before them. At a nudge from Yalun, I do the same. Everyone engulfs their vial with fire, shattering them and burning through the liquid within. Not wanting to fall behind, I hurry to break mine, trying to incinerate the glass as it shatters over my knees.
The liquid inside is not as explosive as that oil from the centzon, but the energy that immediately rushes through me could power my flames for days on end. Strangely, any attempt to store the energy refuses my attempts. This liquid wants to burn, and so I don’t restrict it.
The chamber drowns in flames, both mine and that of the grand elders. In combination with the heat already permeating the chamber, the added fires make it almost unbearable. But only for a moment. Every áed in the room tests the others’ capabilities before lowering the respective heat individually.
Belatedly, I realise not only have I lost control of myself, but so has everyone else. Well, maybe it’s better to say they willing show themselves rather than have lost control of their bodies.
Yalun invites herself into joining my flames and immediately speaks through the connection. “Solvei, when the elders try to join your flame, let them in.”
What? But isn’t it better to limit how much energy they think I have?
“I know it’s not desirable, but to participate in the conference, you need to open yourself. Trust me, this is necessary to plead your case.”
Well, if she says so. I ready myself to accept any of the intermingled flames spread through the chamber.
“Śuri! What the fuck? Were you trying to exclude me?” I hear through our connected flames.
“You made it, didn’t you?” he says, “besides, it is an emergency. We couldn’t wait any longer.”
Besides Yalun and Śuri, none of the other grand elders have tried to combine with my flames. As I look around the room, there seem to be small Kindling groups forming, likely to discuss things before connecting with the rest.
“From this point on, only speak aloud when you want everyone in the chamber to hear. It is fine to keep private discussions between ourselves, but be careful only to direct your speech to those you want,” Yalun says through the flames connecting us.
“Yeah, wouldn’t want a repeat of Yalun’s first conference, would we?” Śuri smirks slightly as the message reaches us.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Don’t you dare.” Yalun looks ready to jump down his throat. Her mouth ajar, as if she only barely held herself back from yelling at him.
While I want to laugh at their interaction, the stares from every grand elder unsettles me. Not only is it their eyes watching me, but their flames probe at mine. Within their small talking groups, I must be a central point of discussion. I expected it to come, but when nearly all of them request to join at the same time, I lurch at the jumble of unique flames.
As I give them permission to view the core of my being, the surprised expression is almost universal. Only a couple of them seemed to expect something of what they saw, if the way they look between Yalun and Śuri is anything to go by. Many of them clearly have words they want to say, but they hold themselves back and turn to Hraun. I guess they respect the old grand elder enough to allow him to begin the conference.
“Thank you all for gathering,” Hraun starts, his voice no longer enhanced with presence so it doesn’t travel through to the viewing chambers.
Now that I look, each of the chambers burns with its own fiery tempest combining the flames of each áed within. Between each, there are tubes running through the glass connecting the chambers, including ours. The combined fire of the audience can prod at the inferno of the grand elders, but they never attempt to interrupt, simply keeping to the side and allowing the elders to discuss without distraction.
“We have a few concerning topics of discussion today, so I am glad to see so many have arrived despite the last minute rush.”
“Sixteen of us in one place? That has to be a record,” comments one of the áed sitting near Odqan.
“I’m more impressed by the number of tribes that have arrived,” says another, gazing up at the spectators. “There has to be almost a quarter of all áed attending.”
“It is true there hasn’t been such numbers in a long time,” Hraun agrees. “Their attendance shows the significance of today’s discussions.”
The áed on the ring of rugs all nod, murmurs of agreement coming through the combined flames. Even with everyone now open with each other in a mass Kindling, it is still possible to focus who you speak to. I can speak to Yalun alone without being overheard. The grand elders’ comments through the connection are simply an effort to not interrupt the speaker… at least, that’s how I interpret it.
As I cast my sight around the room, I analyse each of those present. In terms of control and heat, I am dead last. Even Yalun comes far behind the elder directly above her. I guess not many eagles become grand elders. Though, it’s not all that surprising considering how rare it is for one to spend the effort on increasing their binding. Because of that, Yalun and I are far ahead of everyone else.
What is interesting is that I’m fourth place in terms of sheer capacity. Elder Hraun is beyond everyone in every sense besides binding, but there are two that sit together on my left that both surpass mine. They have more energy than me, but neither has the heat or the control of Śuri. Did they commit the taboo too at some point?
Besides the four of us, everyone else has an incredibly low capacity level. Most have what I’d expect from a Luis ranked mage, at best. Not even to the level of a Beith, and yet… the other aspect of their strength makes me believe they could stand toe to toe with or surpass the inner circle mercenaries. Every one of them… except Yalun. I can see why joining the eagles isn’t the favoured life-path.
“Now, we have all gathered to discuss the failures of our procedure against the attacks in the south of our wasteland, and our response going forward, but before that, I believe it best to address our most pressing concern.” Elder Hraun gestures toward the elders beside me with a blazing black arm. “Śuri and Yalun will begin. Any concerns?”
“What of the taboo-breaker? Shouldn’t she be kept out of the central discussion?”
I almost shout out a defence, but Yalun’s calming flames stop me. “Don’t. You’ll have your time to speak.” Her voice carries through her fire.
“She is a… unique case,” Elder Hraun says. “She has information relevant to both major discussions. We shall decide what to do with her afterwards.”
The grand elder’s words reignite the interest of those in the circle. I do my best to keep my sight straight ahead, even as I feel the probing eyes and flames of those around me. Having myself bared to all these elders is nothing if not nerve-wracking. What kind of thoughts are they having about me? Have they decided I deserve punishment right from the start, or are they willing to listen? Even if they listen, would they consider my ignorance a decent defence? If I heard someone claim they didn’t know after committing a crime, it is easy to assume they are lying.
Despite not needing to speak when talking through flames, it isn’t like we are reading each other’s minds. They can’t tell when I’m being truthful or not.
Yalun’s flames soothe me. A familiar calming heat overwhelms the scrutinising inferno. And I send a message of thanks to my binding teacher as she helps me deal with the dozen interweaving flames.
“We might as well get right into it,” Śuri says. “The western ocean has accelerated its intrusion. We are looking at a loss of two kilometres per day. At minimum.”
Many of the grand elders not already privy to the news vocalise their disbelief.
“What? That can’t be right.”
“Over a thousand times faster?”
“Don’t fuck with us, Śuri.”
At their exclamations, the oldest grand elder turns his glare upon those who couldn’t hold their voices. “Keep the idle chatter and complaints non-vocalised.” His hard gaze turns on Yalun, and despite not being the target, I reflexively flinch at the irritation held within those eyes burning with deep, charcoal black flames. Despite having the same colour, his fire looks a damn lot more physical than Suri’s. “Yalun, you just arrived back from the west coast. How does it look?”
To her credit, she doesn’t hesitate under his powerful stare. “Unfortunately, Śuri’s estimate was generous. We are losing sections of desert at a rate never seen before. The western basin is almost entirely lost. The coastline has not yet reached the Titan Alps at the basin’s north, but it is only a matter of time.”
“That is a lot of mining sites lost,” an elder besides Odqan says. I can feel her flames churning in concern. “Did the tribes out that way escape in time?”
“I hope so, Ignatia. The eagle in the region was guiding a tribe away when I found him. He said most tribes were already on their way here long before they learnt of the danger,” Yalun says. “Though, with how fast the ocean overtook the basin…”
The grand elders hold their silence for a moment at the implication. The western basin is by no means a small region. It is all too possible many tribes had been travelling when it flooded. Our only solace is that despite the numerous resources within, the basin’s proximity to the ocean disincentivised travel. Nobody wanted to be near water when they didn’t need to, after all.
“My best estimate, considering the topography of the wasteland, is that we have two years until the ocean cuts our Agglomerate off from the rest of the wasteland, and another five until nothing remains.”