NOVEL NEXT Chapter 81: Meeting with the headmaster
The trio quickly exited the Veridian City Node chamber, the immense rush of teleportation leaving them slightly reeling.
Waiting directly outside the exit was a spacious, well-sprung carriage drawn by two magnificent, white elven steeds.
Beside the carriage stood an imposing figure: Grand Elder Aerion.
He wore the formal, silver-trimmed robes of Academy's highest council.
The Grand Elder approached immediately, his expression blending respect and urgency.
He bowed low to the Princess.
"Princess Erowen," he greeted, his voice deep and measured. "It is an honour to receive you. Sir Harlon, Captain Alvaro. Your swift passage is commendable."
Erowen managed a composed smile despite her residual dizziness. "Thank you, Grand Elder. The Node performed admirably."
"The carriage is ready," the Elder indicated, opening the carriage door himself. "We should speak on the move. Time is short, and certain... preparations must be made before you reach the Academy."
Harlon ushered Erowen gently inside first, followed by Alvaro, before climbing in himself.
The Grand Elder closed the door and then stepped inside, settling onto the seat opposite them.
The carriage immediately began to move through the busy, well-lit streets of Veridian.
Harlon addressed the Elder directly. "Grand Elder, the speed of your preparedness is notable. I presume you were given the full mission specifications?"
The Elder nodded gravely. "Indeed. The Prime Minister's message, delivered via priority arcane messenger, was unusually detailed. We were informed of your mission to retrieve the paramount student from the Veridian Academy and the necessity of the Princess's protective escort."
He paused, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "The name of the girl remains encoded in the message, confirming the sensitive nature of the retrieval. I was only told her identity will become clear upon your arrival."
"I expected as much," Harlon muttered, leaning forward.
"My concern is the Academy itself. They operate with a degree of autonomy. Will there be trouble removing the student without proper authorization?"
The Grand Elder sighed, rubbing his temples. "That is the critical juncture. The Veridian Academy's charter grants the Headmaster ultimate authority over the movement of his students, regardless of Elven decree. We cannot simply seize the girl. The attempt would cause a political crisis."
"Then we must bypass the bureaucracy," Harlon stated.
"Impossible," the Elder countered firmly. "You must meet with the Headmaster. He is known to be meticulous, cautious, and deeply protective of his students. He will not release anyone deemed 'paramount' without absolute assurance and—crucially—his explicit approval."
Alvaro spoke up, his first input since leaving the marsh. "So, our mission now involves a negotiation?"
"Precisely," the Grand Elder confirmed. "You must secure his trust and his cooperation. Your mission pivots on that meeting. If the Headmaster refuses to authorize the girl's removal, you cannot leave with her."
Harlon's face hardened, the reality of the political hurdle settling in. "Very well. Then we change tactics. How soon until we reach the Academy gates?"
"By mid-afternoon," the Elder replied. "You will be ushered directly to the Headmaster's office upon arrival."
"I see. Hand me the note from prime minister grand elder. I'll decide the name." Harlon asked.
Aerion nodded and pulled the parchment from inside his robe, passing it to Harlon.
Harlon carefully scanned the parchment and started decoding mentally.
After a few minutes, he looked up at Aerion.
"I've got it. But I'll speak up the name only before the headmaster. So, please forgive my insolence grand elder." Harlon bowed apologeticaly.
"It's all right sir Harlon. I understand the weight and secrecy of the mission."
"Thank you for your understanding. Let's hurry then" Harlon said as the carriage took speed.
*******
Hamdal, sat behind a sprawling desk carved from pale, unblemished maple wood.
He was working with a focused intensity, signing authorizations and curriculum approvals, the quiet scratching of his quill the only sound in the elegant office.
A firm, measured knock fell upon the heavy oak door.
"Enter," Hamdal requested, his voice calm and precise.
The door swung inward, and Grand Elder Aerion entered first, his tall frame filling the doorway.
Following him were two younger elves: the formidable Harlon, clad in his traveling armor, and the radiant Princess Erowen, looking composed despite the trials of the marsh. Trailing them was Captain Alvaro, though he remained near the door, a silent sentinel.
Grand Elder Aerion offered a respectful bow. "Headmaster Hamdal. I thank you for receiving us on such short notice." He then gestured to his companions. "Allow me to introduce Sir Harlon of the Elven Royal Guards, and Her Royal Highness, Princess Erowen."
Hamdal rose instantly, his academic composure replaced by meticulous courtly respect.
He bowed deeply, recognizing the significance of the royal presence. "Princess Erowen, a rare honour. Sir Harlon. Welcome to Veridian Academy."
He motioned toward the plush, antique chairs arrayed before his desk. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."
Once they were seated, Hamdal resumed his chair. He maintained a polite, professional curiosity.
"Now, Grand Elder, Sir Harlon, I must confess my curiosity. While any visit from the Palace is welcome, the urgency of your arrival suggests a matter of great weight. How may the Academy assist you?"
Harlon took the lead, his tone shifting from courtly politeness to focused seriousness. He began his explanation directly.
"Headmaster," Harlon began, "I have been dispatched here on a critical mission assigned directly by the Prime Minister. The stakes are, quite literally, the future stability of the Unified Races."
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze earnest. "We are here to retrieve a student—a girl currently under your care. She must be taken back immediately to the World Tree Palace. This retrieval is deemed essential not only for her own protection and safety but also to secure the continued safety and unity of all our people against a looming, unspoken threat."
Harlon finished, leaving the name of the student deliberately vague, awaiting Hamdal's reaction to the extraordinary request.
Hamdal's stoic face was not giving them any clue as to what he was thinking.
They patiently waited for him to answer, when he opened his mouth after a short silence.
"May I ask the name of the student you wish to take?"
"It's...Elena...Elena Moonshadow."
******
Austin woke with a sharp, gasping inhale, the taste of soot immediate and acrid on his tongue.
He was no longer lying in the comforting straw of his bed; instead, coarse, gritty ash clung to his skin, and a searing heat radiated from every direction.
He scrambled to his feet, blinking through a stinging haze. The world was a monochrome nightmare of black and red.
Everything was burning. What wasn't actively engulfed in flame was charred, skeletal, and smoking—trees reduced to black spikes, earth cracked and dusted with fine gray powder.
The air was thick and punishing, a swirling cloak of smoke that choked the lungs and blinded the eyes.
Panic, cold and sharp, pierced through his confusion.
"Mother! Father!" Austin's voice cracked, sounding thin and small against the roar of the distant fires.
He spun in a slow, frantic circle. "Ava! Where are you? Ava!"
He started running, stumbling over blackened roots and mounds of ash, his heart hammering against his ribs.
He yelled until his throat was raw, the names of his family echoing uselessly into the devastation. Every breath was a painful reminder of the destruction.
Then, through a temporary break in the smoke, he saw it.
It was a structure, impossibly, still standing—a squat, timber frame, though its logs were utterly charred black, like the remnants of a funeral pyre. A thin, sickly plume of gray smoke curled lazily from a hole in the collapsed, thatched ceiling.
A wave of dizzying recognition crashed over him.
The slant of the roof, the way the stone chimney was set... This was their home. The little hut where he had spent all fifteen years of his life.
Tears, hot trails down his ash-streaked cheeks, began to flow. The sight of the hut was a heavy anchor of certainty in the ocean of chaos, but it brought with it an ominous, crushing dread.
Slowly, driven by a terrible mix of desperate skepticism and faint, irrational hope, he approached.
The heat radiating off the blackened wood was intense. He pushed aside the hanging remnants of the wooden doorframe and stepped into the suffocating darkness inside.
The hut's interior was a mess of rubble and burnt possessions.
Austin's eyes scanned the gloom, searching, praying. And then he saw it—lying on the ashen floor near where his sister's small bed used to be.
It was small, its fabric almost entirely consumed, reduced to a crispy, brown shell, but the shape was unmistakable.
A tiny, porcelain face, soot-covered but whole, stared blankly up at him. Ava's doll.
A strangled cry tore from his chest. The carefully held walls of his control crumbled. Helplessness consumed him entirely.
He dropped to his knees, heedless of the sharp debris, and wept uncontrollably, his hands shaking as he reached for the fragile relic.
"No! Ava! Mother! Father!" he wailed, his forehead pressed against the doll, the names dissolving into inconsolable sobs.
Just as the grief threatened to swallow him whole, a new sound cut through the crackle of the flames: footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, crunching on the ash right behind him.
Austin froze. He scrubbed his tear-filled eyes with the back of his hand and pushed himself back up, turning quickly, the doll still clutched tightly in his fist.
A massive, armored silhouette filled the doorway, blocking the little light that remained. Before Kaelen could even register the size of the figure, before he could clearly see a face or a weapon, a sudden, blinding motion erupted from the darkness.
A huge hammer, its head a monstrous, spiked slab of iron, swung in a devastating arc.
It struck Austin right across the face with a brutal, sickening impact.
The world exploded in white-hot pain and a rush of blood.
He crumpled instantly, falling back into the ash and the burning ruin, the last sound he heard the ringing, dreadful echo of the blow before the darkness mercifully took him.