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I slowed my pace, straining to hear their hushed conversation. Their voices carried an odd resonance, like multiple tones layered together.

"The Council actually agreed to negotiations?" Effie whispered, disbelief etched into every word. "After everything?"

"You haven't spoken to your parents?" Vexa asked, shooting a concerned glance at the men in gray. "Things are changing. Quickly."

"Having her here now..." Rethlyn trailed off as one of Valkan's men turned, milky eyes locking onto our group. He shifted closer to me, almost protective. "Especially after what Talon said?—"

"Enough," Aether cut in, his shoulders tight. "We're exposed out here."

The Citadel's entrance loomed before us, a massive arch of polished stone that seemed to swallow all sound. Each step deeper into the structure sent chills down my spine. The corridors twisted at sharp angles, lined with torches that cast more shadows than light.

The others moved with familiarity through the labyrinth. Guards stood at attention at every intersection, their armor reflecting the red hues of the torches. Each one's eyes found me, lingering too long before sliding away.

We turned down a final corridor that ended at a heavy wooden door reinforced with black metal. Two guards flanked it, their hands resting on weapons that seemed to drink in what little light reached this deep into the Citadel.

"The General is ready for you," one said, his voice carrying an edge of warning as his gaze settled on me.

Aether stepped forward, his presence suddenly filling the narrow space. "Then we shouldn't keep him waiting."

The room beyond felt impossibly vast after the cramped corridors,circular walls stretching up into darkness. A massive table sat in the center, its surface etched with what seemed to be a map.

Rethlyn immediately claimed a spot against the wall while Vexa began a slow circuit of the room, her fingers trailing along the table's edge.

"Now we wait," she said, though the tension in her shoulders betrayed her casual tone.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I took in the maps, the careful notation of troop movements, supply lines, and something else—dark areas spreading across Umbrathia like a disease. The drought's progression, I realized.

"Perfect time to clarify something," I said, planting my feet firmly on the stone floor. "I agreed to meet the Void. I did not agree to fight against Sídhe. Not until we've considered every other option."

The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush stone.

"Oh, isn't that precious?" Effie pushed away from the wall. "The non-violent approach. Whileourpeople starve."

"I chose to meet your Void. I chose to hear you out," I kept my voice steady despite the rage building in my chest. "But I won't blindly agree to?—"

"To what?" Aether cut in, shadows deepening beneath his eyes. "To save an entire realm? To stop the slaughter of innocent people?" He slammed his hand onto the map, right over a region marked with countless small crosses. "Each mark is a village, Fia. Dead or abandoned. Have you already forgotten what you saw out there?"

"Of course not," I snapped. "But there has to be another way. If I could just get back, talk to—" I caught myself before mentioning Laryk. "The right people."

"Right. Because they'll definitely listen to the shadow wielder." Effie's laugh was sharp as broken glass. "Face it, you're one of us now. Whether you like it or not."

"I'm nothing like you."

"Clearly." Her eyes darkened. "We actually fight for what we believe in. We don't hide in towers pretending the world isn't dying around us."

Vexa moved between us, but before she could speak, the temperature in the room plummeted. The shadows in the corners seemed to recoil as the door swung open with enough force to rattle the walls.

A man who must have been General Urkin filled the doorway. He was older than I'd expected, his dark gray hair pulled back severely from a face that seemed carved from the same stone as the Citadel. His uniform was pristine despite the perpetual twilight outside, decorated only with a series of small pins on his collar that caught the light.

The others snapped to attention. Even Effie's smirk vanished.

"General," Vexa said, inclining her head.

Urkin's dark eyes swept the room before settling on me with the weight of an avalanche. When he spoke, his voice was rough as stone on steel. "So this is the prisoner from Sídhe." He moved into the room like a predator, never taking his eyes off me. "The one you claim is a Duskbound.” The wordprisonerhit like a physical blow, but I forced myself to hold his gaze. Every instinct screamed to look away from those dark eyes.

"She is," Vexa said firmly, though I noticed how her fingers tightened around her weapon belt.

"Interesting." Urkin circled me with measured steps, each footfall echoing in the sudden silence. "And why exactly should I believe that? Why should I believe anything about her?" His voice dropped lower, taking on a dangerous edge.