CHAPTER 3: The Council of Elders

 The grand hall of Eldris Citadel exuded an air of calm before the storm. The faint crackle of fire could be heard as the three Guardians—Nyroth Solvain, Ilara Fenryn, and Zyrran Nyktris—entered the chamber. Their footsteps echoed on the polished stone floor, reverberating through the cavernous hall. The Elders, ancient figures draped in robes of wisdom and sorrow, sat at the far end of the room, awaiting their report.

Above their bowed heads loomed a magnificent emblem, a radiant symbol etched into the ancient stone wall behind them. It was no ordinary crest—it was the emblem of Eldris, depicting Zerythar, the legendary dragon whose name had been etched into the annals of history.

Zerythar, known as the Celestial Flame, had once been the mighty protector of Eldris alongside the Guardians during the Great War, centuries ago. With wings that spanned the heavens and scales that shimmered like molten gold, he was a creature of unparalleled majesty and power. His fiery breath had turned tides of battle, and his unyielding courage had inspired hope when all seemed lost.

The emblem captured his essence in exquisite detail: his eyes, sharp and piercing, seemed to gleam with an otherworldly wisdom; his powerful, coiled body was surrounded by intricate carvings of flame and light, symbolizing both destruction and renewal. To the people of Eldris, Zerythar was more than a guardian—he was a legend, a symbol of resilience and unity in the face of overwhelming darkness.

Even now, centuries after his last great flight, his name was spoken with reverence, his image a constant reminder of the strength that once protected their realm. The emblem stood as a solemn vow: Eldris would never falter, just as Zerythar had never faltered in his duty. It was a legacy the people clung to, a beacon of hope that endured even in the darkest of times.

Nyroth, always the composed leader, stepped forward and addressed the Council. His crimson eyes were unwavering as he gave a brief, precise recount of the events that had transpired.

"The village has been destroyed," Nyroth began his voice low but steady, carrying the weight of his words. "A demon incursion—larger than expected. They were testing us, stalling for something greater. We were able to contain the attack, but there are troubling signs. The Veil is under threat, and there is talk of a return. Valthrion's generals are making their moves."

Ilara, standing at Nyroth's side, nodded grimly. "We've fought off the demons, but there's no doubt that the Generals are closer than we imagined. Their goal is clear: the Veil is weakening, and Valthrion's return is inevitable."

The Elders exchanged somber glances. One of them, Sareth, an elder with a beard streaked with gray, spoke up, his voice hoarse but filled with urgency.

"You are right to be concerned," Sareth said, his eyes narrowing. "We've received troubling reports from various corners of the realm. Strange occurrences are happening—portals opening, shadows lurking, whispers in the wind. The Generals of Hell are not acting alone. They are working toward the same goal: breaking the Veil, unleashing Valthrion into the world."

The room grew heavy with the weight of his words. Ilara clenched her fists, her expression hardening. "We can't wait for more signs. We need to act now, before it's too late."

Sareth nodded slowly, but his gaze shifted toward another Elder, Elysia. "There is another matter we must address," he said, his voice carrying an air of finality. "We've heard rumors of strange activity in the neighboring kingdom of Theradrin. It is said that some of their leaders have connections to Hell, and they may know more about the Generals' movements than we do."

Nyroth's brow furrowed. "Theradrin?" he muttered under his breath. "We've had little contact with them, but they are not an ally we can trust lightly. They've always been a dangerous place, full of monsters and chaos."

Ilara stepped forward, her tone unwavering. "We have no choice. We need the information they hold, especially if their ties to Hell are true. The Generals might have already begun using that kingdom as a staging ground. We cannot ignore it."

Nyroth glanced toward the Elders. "We'll do what we must, but not all of us will go. Some of us need to stay here, to protect Eldris."

The Elders nodded in agreement. Sareth spoke once more, his voice firm. "We understand your hesitation, but this is crucial. Theradrin may have the answers we need, and their king might know more than anyone about what's truly happening. If you're to stop Valthrion's return, you must go."

Nyroth remained silent for a moment, weighing the decision. Finally, he spoke with a nod. "Ilara and Zyrran will go. We need their expertise. I will stay behind to guard Eldris."

Ilara's gaze softened. "I'll go, Nyroth. You'll need me here, but if I can gather information that can help stop this war, I'll do it. And Zyrran—"

Before she could finish her sentence, without warning, a figure appeared from the shadows behind one of the Elders, his presence unsettlingly sudden and silent.

"I won't go, I have work to do", Zyrran said, ", even though the shadows...the shadows there will be interesting".

The Elder who had been seated before him jumped, startled by Zyrran's sudden appearance. "Zyrran!" the Elder exclaimed, his voice laced with surprise and frustration. "I told you to stop doing that! You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days!"

Zyrran's lips curled into a smirk, his violet eyes glinting with amusement as he stepped back, retreating into the shadows as though he were one with them. "My apologies, Elder Sareth," he replied smoothly, his voice as cold and calm as the shadows he commanded. "I thought you might appreciate a little... surprise."

Sareth rolled his eyes, but there was a trace of fear in his expression—something he never showed openly. The Elders knew Zyrran's power, and even though he acted nonchalant, his presence could send a chill through the most seasoned of warriors. He was not one to be trifled with.

Ilara then said "Varrian then. He will be the one who I will travel through the land of Theradrin with. "

"It's decided then! ", Nyroth added, " You're to leave tomorrow, at dawn, prepare yourselves. "

As they finished their discussion, there was an unsettling silence in the room. The Elders stood, their ancient faces grave.

"Be careful," Elysia warned them, her voice low. "Theradrin is a place of monsters, both literal and metaphorical. The king is not one to be trifled with. He has a reputation for cruelty—and for strange alliances. If you go there, expect trouble. And don't let your guard down."