SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

Chapter 909: Council of Five

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Serren stayed silent after Belthro's question. The answer should have been obvious, and hearing it said aloud made it much harder to ignore. He had fought the God of War alongside four other Primordials, and somehow all five had come back alive.

Belthro watched him for a moment before lifting one hand.

"So you understand. If Dravok had gone there intending to attack you, then neither you, nor him, nor him, nor her, nor her would still be alive."

He pointed at Serren first, then at the doors where the other four waited outside, counting them off one after another.

"None of the five of you would have come back, and you certainly wouldn't be standing in this room without a single serious injury. Don't misunderstand us, Serren. What Dravok did was a grave sin. He abandoned our people when his presence mattered most, and nobody here has forgotten it."

Belthro lowered his hand and leaned back.

"But a man like Dravok came here alone, knowing exactly what this place means to him now. He brought no allies, he didn't force his way through, and after you attacked him he chose not to kill any of you. That alone should tell you he may have come carrying something important."

Serren opened his mouth and nothing came out. He wanted to argue that Dravok had no right to return, but he had already said that.

The truth was that anger had decided the matter for him before he took the time to think. Among the Primordials, letting hatred or revenge blind your judgment counted as negligence, especially for a man commanding others.

Serren had spent decades learning that emotion could exist without controlling the hand holding the weapon. This time he had failed.

Felyth watched him in silence before speaking, and her face stayed composed as she dismissed him.

"If that's everything, Serren, you can go. Thank you for reporting this personally."

Serren looked at each of the five people around the table. He brought one fist against his chest and lowered his head in a formal salute before turning toward the doors.

He left without another word and closed them behind him. The four Primordials waiting outside came at him at once.

"Well? What did they say?"

Serren breathed out slowly and looked between them. Their injuries were closing, and the fight was still obvious in their torn clothes.

"Nothing changes. We carry on as though this never happened, and none of you mention Dravok to anyone in the city."

One of the women frowned and glanced toward the chamber doors.

"Not even to the others who served under him?"

"Especially not them."

Serren looked back at the building before he continued.

"If his name starts moving, hundreds of people will want answers before the people inside that room have decided what any of it means. Some remember him as a traitor. Others still remember the general who won wars for us. We don't need that argument running through the city before we know why he came."

The other four accepted the order. None of them looked satisfied, and they understood the problem well enough to follow him away.

Inside the chamber, the atmosphere had changed considerably. Neither Belthro nor Felyth spoke first this time.

The voice came from the oldest-looking person at the table, a man who appeared somewhere in his seventies. Deep lines marked his face and grey ran through what was left of his hair.

Unlike Belthro and Felyth, he had no uncertainty at all about how he felt.

"Serren did the right thing driving that traitor away. Do any of you understand how many problems Dravok could have caused simply by showing his face here again? He's fortunate they let him leave alive."

Felyth turned toward him, her purple eyes hardening, and the black mark around her neck shifted faintly against her skin.

"Don't lie to yourself, old man. Be thankful Dravok didn't kill any of them after they attacked him. You know as well as I do that if Serren and the others are alive, it's because Dravok decided they would be."

"He could have killed all five before any of them understood what was happening. The fact that he didn't matters, and the fact that he came here at all can mean several things."

Another woman at the table finally spoke, turning slightly toward Felyth.

"And what exactly do you think Dravok came here to tell us?"

"Something may have happened outside. We know almost nothing about what goes on beyond the Dead Meridian anymore. We chose not to leave because staying hidden was the only way our people could recover without drawing attention again."

Felyth paused before she went on.

"That decision protected us, and it also blinded us. We know what happens inside this territory. We know when the land changes, what moves through it, and where the Void turns active. What happens beyond it reaches us late, if it reaches us at all."

Belthro joined the discussion, his black eyes moving across the other four.

"All of you are making valid points. What is important now is that we should have heard Dravok before deciding anything. Serren acted according to what he believed was right, and Dravok is gone."

He rested one arm against the stone table.

"After the welcome he received, I doubt he'll return easily. From where he stands, coming here a second time would look less like negotiation and more like suicide."

The woman who had questioned Felyth turned toward the fifth member of the council. He had not spoken once since Serren entered.

"You've been quiet this whole time, Kaor. Do you have nothing to say?"

Kaor looked younger than the others, and the cloth covering his eyes made him stand out at once. He had not lost his sight in battle or through illness.

He had removed his own eyes after awakening a power that let him see what would happen before it occurred. What he saw eventually convinced him that ordinary sight was something he could no longer afford to keep.

Kaor rested both hands on the table, his face calm beneath the cloth.

"There's nothing useful to say yet. We can only hope Dravok comes back and tells us why he came."

The woman stared at him for several seconds. Kaor rarely spoke without weighing what his words could imply, and her face changed as she worked out what he had left unsaid.

"Shit... it really is important, then."

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