Chapter 14 - The Convergence of Tongues
The center of the courtyard was cleared instantly.
A massive, flat slab of ancient black basalt—the traditional altar of oaths—was dragged into the middle of the yard. Kaelen stood on the western side, his hands glowing with unstable, crackling blue southern magic. Sera stood on the eastern side, her posture calm, unyielding, wrapped tightly in her wool shawl, her fingers resting lightly on the cold stone.
Around them, twenty massive grey wolves sat in a tight, protective circle, their golden eyes fixed intently on Kaelen and his mages, their low, vibrating growls warning anyone who dared to interfere.
In the shadows, Valen watched, his hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles were stark white, his silver eyes completely consumed by the wolf within, ready to tear the courtyard apart if a single hair on Sera's head was harmed.
"The rules are simple," Kaelen announced, his voice echoing loudly. "We channel the foundational script inscribed on this basalt altar. Whoever misinterprets a single syllable will have their magical or linguistic link severed by the altar's backlash."
"Begin," Valen commanded, his voice a low, terrifying thunderclap.
Kaelen raised his hands, chanting rapidly in the complex, melodic dialect of southern high-magic. The blue runes on the basalt slab began to glow, twisting and shifting under his control, attempting to force the stone to read the fabricated southern claim.
Sera closed her eyes for a single heartbeat.
When she opened them, they shone with a faint, brilliant silver-gold light—the dormant, awakened power of the Northern Queen pulsing through her veins.
She didn't chant. She spoke.
Her voice was calm, steady, and incredibly clear, reciting the true, uncorrupted linguistic roots of the First Accord.
As her words hit the basalt altar, the false blue light generated by Kaelen stuttered, choked, and violently shattered into a shower of harmless sparks.
A brilliant wave of golden-white light erupted from the stone beneath Sera's feet, washing outward across the entire courtyard.
Kaelen stumbled backward, gasping for air as the magical backlash hit him square in the chest, sending him crashing hard into the snow-covered mud. His staff slipped from his hand, the crystal cracking down the middle.
Complete, absolute silence fell over Iron Hall.
Sera lowered her hands, the golden glow fading from her eyes as she exhaled a steady, calm breath.
Kaelen pushed himself up from the mud, his immaculate silver hair disheveled, his violet eyes wide with absolute, humiliated shock. He looked around the courtyard—at the silent, towering councilors, at the twenty war-wolves staring him down, and finally at Valen, who looked ready to execute him on the spot.
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"You... you cheated," Kaelen whispered, clutching his bruised chest.
"No, Your Highness," Sera replied, her voice carrying clear and cold across the yard. "I just translated correctly."
