NOVEL NEXT Chapter 78: The Sunstone Court
The walk to the Sunstone Court was a spectacle. Servants and guards froze as he passed, their eyes wide, caught between the instinct to bow to the armor's royal authority and the primal urge to flee the demonic presence it contained. The Mana Shroud around him blurred his form, making the passage feel like a predator moving through deep water.
The great doors to the court were open, revealing a large hall bathed in the light of the actual sun, filtered through a magnificent crystal dome. The air, usually scented with blossoms and clean stone, was thick with tension and the subtle, competing magics of the assembled nobility.
Dozens of elves in silks and fine armor stood in clusters, their conversation a low, anxious murmur that died the moment Caelen crossed the threshold.
All eyes turned to him. The black and red armor, the silver hair, the crimson eyes—he was a living wound in their serene reality. He felt their gazes like physical touches: fearful, hateful, calculating.
Queen Elunara sat upon her throne of woven water and light, her expression unreadable, a mask of perfect calm. To her right stood Seralyth, a shadow in the light-drenched hall. To her left, four elves stood slightly apart from the rest, their postures radiating confidence and power. These were the heads of the great houses Seralyth had named.
Caelen looked at them as he knew that this ordeal was about them
Alvinius of House Galanodel
The elf was lean, with sharp features and hair the color of pale ash. His fingers twitched slightly, as if constantly feeling air currents unseen by others.
Aelion of House Eventide
Broad-shouldered and stern, he looked as if he'd been carved from the mountain itself. His arms were crossed, his jaw set, his gaze a weight of pure, unyielding tradition.
Luminar of House Lianthorn
This one had an almost lazy grace, his blue-green robes shimmering like deep water. A faint, condescending smile played on his lips as he observed the scene, as if watching a particularly entertaining play.
Terrax - Unknown Affiliation
Unlike the others, this elf wore practical, travel-stained leathers. He had no house insignia, and his gaze was not one of politics, but of pure, focused assessment, like a scout evaluating a new landscape or a threat.
Elunara's voice cut through the silence, cool and clear. "Lord Caelen. Thank you for joining us." She gestured to the four elves. "The heads of our most esteemed houses are… eager to become acquainted."
It was Aelion of House Eventide who spoke first, his voice a low rumble. "'Acquainted'? We are acquainted with what he is, Your Majesty. A demon. The texts are clear. Their very nature is corruption. And you have not only harbored it but armed it." His eyes, hard as flint, locked onto Caelen. "You dress the wolf in silk and expect the flock not to panic."
Luminar of House Lianthorn gave a light, fluid chuckle. "Come now, Aelion. 'It' is a 'he.' And he is remarkably composed for a creature of supposed chaos. Look at him. He assesses us as we assess him." His amused eyes met Caelen's. "A thinking predator is far more interesting than a mindless beast, is it not?"
"This is not a game, Luminar," Alvinius interjected, his voice a sharp whisper. "We face a threat far greater than a single demon, no matter how… unique."
His gaze flicked to Elunara. "The celestial alignment has shifted. The black sky may be gone, but it was a herald. If the eldest daughter of the Goddess is truly being awakened, her gaze will fall here first. She will see the tree."
Elunara's mask did not slip. "The World-Singer's Heart has been our blessing and our burden for eons. It connects us to the divine source. It is why our people were spared during the Primordial War. But it also makes us a target."
"A target you have painted brighter!" Aelion slammed a fist into his palm, the sound echoing. "By harboring the dark elves! By housing him!" He pointed a thick finger at Caelen. "The eldest Primordial Virtue does not negotiate. She judges. And she will see a kingdom corrupted, unworthy of guarding such a sacred trust. She will report to her mother that the Tree is not safe in our hands, and the Goddess will see it reclaimed!"
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the court. "The dark elves are a stain!" a voice cried out. "Their very existence is an affront to the light of the Tree! We must purify our lands! It is the only way to prove our worth!"
"We are not angels!" Elunara's voice rose, sharp and final, quelling the noise. "We are elves. Our strength has always been in preservation, in balance, not in holy crusades. Fighting is not our essence. And the Goddess, with her ancient enemies gone, is an unpredictable variable. We do not know what future she envisions."
It was then that Caelen spoke for the first time, his voice calm, cutting through the heated rhetoric. Every head turned to him, startled by the sound of his reasoned tone.
"Balance," he said, the single word hanging in the air. "Or a lot of things fall apart."
He looked from Aelion's fury to Luminar's amusement, to Alvinius's calculation. "You fear the Goddess will see only corruption. So you would commit a greater corruption, the extermination of your own kin, the dark elves, to appear pure in her eyes. You would break your own kingdom to please a master who may simply take what she wants regardless."
He took a single step forward, and the entire court seemed to hold its breath. "A tree, no matter how powerful, cannot stand if the roots tear each other apart. You speak of purity, but you are planning your own collapse."
Silence descended, heavier than before. He had not roared. He had not threatened. He had simply pointed out the flaw in their desperate logic, and in doing so, had revealed a mind they never expected a demon to possess. The weapon Elunara had unleashed could not only fight; it could think.
The silence in the Sunstone Court was absolute, broken only by the faint, shimmering hum of Elunara's throne. Caelen's words hung in the air, a stark, logical truth that cut through generations of fear and dogma.
Aelion of House Eventide looked as if he'd been struck. His face, a mask of stoic tradition, contorted with frustrated rage. "You dare speak of our kingdom's roots, demon? You, who are the very embodiment of ugliness and decay?"
"It is precisely because I understand ugliness and not ugliness that I recognize it," Caelen countered, his voice still calm, though a flicker of crimson light deepened in his gaze. "You propose a solution that weakens you. A divided house is easier to burn than a united one."
Luminar of House Lianthorn let out a low, appreciative chuckle, his amused smile now tinged with genuine interest. "He has a point, Aelion. It's crude, but sound. Panicked purges rarely end well. They create voids, and voids... attract other things." His eyes drifted meaningfully toward Caelen.
It was the silent one, Terrax, who spoke next. His voice was rough, unused to courtly cadence. "The demon's assessment is tactically correct."
All eyes turned to the scout. "A fractured force cannot mount a coherent defense. Whether the threat is celestial or... otherwise," he said, with a nod that included Caelen in the category of 'threat,' "our survival depends on cohesion. Internal strife is a luxury we cannot afford."
This pragmatic support from the unaffiliated scout seemed to carry a different weight than the political maneuvering of the houses. It was a soldier's verdict.
Alvinius of House Galanodel, who had been watching the exchange with the intensity of a hawk, finally stirred. "Cohesion is a fine ideal," he said, his voice a sharp whisper that demanded attention. "But it requires a unified will. How can there be unity when a creature of the abyss stands in our Sunstone Court, giving counsel?"
He turned his piercing gaze fully on Caelen. "You speak of balance. What is your stake in this? Why should a Primordial Demon care for the fate of an elven kingdom or its tree?"
This was the true question, the one lurking beneath all the fear and posturing. Caelen met his gaze without flinching.
"My stake is simple," Caelen stated. "I am here. This is where I stand. Any threat to this kingdom, be it a Virtue's judgment or your own short-sightedness, becomes a threat to me. I am not an ally out of affection for your traditions, but because our interests are, for the moment, aligned. The tree is your anchor. It is also a beacon. If it falls, the storm that follows will wash over everything, including me."
He paused, letting the sheer, selfish practicality of his position sink in. "I am invested in your stability because your chaos is... inconvenient."
A strange, grudging understanding flickered in Alvinius's eyes. The honesty was more disarming than any pledge of loyalty could have been. A demon acting out of pure, pragmatic self-interest was a variable they could, perhaps, calculate.
Queen Elunara seized the moment, her voice ringing with finality. "The discussion is not about Lord Caelen's nature, but about our future. The path of purgation is closed. We will not sacrifice our own to appease a power that may not be appeased. Our focus must be on strengthening our position, not weakening it. The dark elves are under my protection. Lord Caelen is my guest. And we will face what comes, not as a fractured people, but as a kingdom prepared to defend what is ours."
She rose from her throne, her presence expanding to fill the hall. "This audience is concluded."
The dismissal was absolute. The nobles, their arguments challenged and their fears reframed, began to disperse, their whispers now filled with a new, uncertain energy.
They had come to see a monster and had found a strategist. They had expected a crisis of faith and were given a lesson in realpolitik.
As the court emptied, Caelen remained, a statue of black and red in the streaming light. The first battle of perception was over. The next thing that comes after this is the dark elves.
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["If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to drop a power stone or add it to your library—it really helps me keep writing!.]