In a secret fastness

These halls had not been used in nearly a century. For over nine decades these stones had known only the light tread of a handful of custodial staff who labored in secret to ensure this fortress didn't fall into ruin. Now that work finally paid off as these hallowed halls played host to the first council of archons in who even knew how long.

Seph looked around the large circular table at his peers. A few spots were empty, but even so, it was a large gathering. Certainly, more archons were in attendance than he had even known about. But that was to be expected. With the order being hunted and **** ever further along the path of decentralization and deeper into hiding, no one knew just how many archons there actually were anymore. He himself had a direct line to only a handful of others, and it was the same for all the others. In theory this should provide some safety, as even in the unlikely event that an archon was taken alive and broken, they’d only be able to give up a few others while still making it possible to assemble everyone, as every archon reaching out to every contact of theirs should eventually reach them all. That was the theory, but who could be sure? It was quite possible there was a forgotten archon out there somewhere, running a cell of the order on their own, believing they were the last one left. Hells, it could well be more than one, and no one here had any way of knowing.

The old archon was roused from his introspection by the thunderous voice of Archon Oldeban. The large man’s jowls were aquiver as he addressed the gathering.

“Archon Saleen makes an excellent point, we cannot be sure that this boy is indeed The Heir. But there is another point to consider, one less palatable but perhaps even more important.”

The fat archon paused to draw breath, and Sephian had the unpleasant feeling he knew where this was going. Oldeban was one of the handful of people here he had known beforehand, and he knew exactly what kind of man he was. Oldeban liked his power and the comfortable life of luxury it afforded him. If he even believed in the prophecy at all, he didn’t care about it. An heir and the conflict and struggle they would bring would endanger not only that comfortable existence, but his very life. For a man like Oldeban, that was a risk he’d rather not take to begin with. He was exactly the kind of person Seph had felt the need to warn young Velas about.

“Let us all assume for a moment the boy is indeed The Heir. Where does that leave us? So far, every heir we have found has failed, and the aftermath has been disastrous for the order every single time. Look at the accounts, both old and ancient. None have achieved as much as the first heir did, and some perished without doing even a single thing of note, yet they all cost us. Should we once again risk the very survival of this august order for something that may well come to naught? Would it not be more prudent to continue to lay low, to stay in the shadows, and wait for The Heir to prove himself worthy or perish on his own?”

There was much murmuring around the table. Some faces showed concern or discomfort at the words; a few seemed to seriously be considering it, probably ones as selfish as Oldeban. A handful of faces were about as inscrutable as the visage of an archon ought to be. Seph knew he was among that handful, his lined old face betraying naught of the fury burning inside him. Fury that he did not intend to contain. He stood up, slamming the palms of his hands so hard on the table it made his old joints ache.

“How dare you! It is one thing for you to consider spitting on your own oaths, Oldeban, but to ask us to consider going back on our sworn word and to abandon our honor? Have you no shame?”

The fat and red face looked at Seph in stunned disbelief, he clearly hadn’t expected such a vigorous outburst from the oldest members of the assembly. Before he could compose himself and reply, Seph let his gaze run across the others at the table.

“And you, all of you, where is your outrage? Where is your indignation? Oldeban just asked you all to consider the unthinkable. Do any of you mean to tell me you actually are considering it, considering betraying everything we are and stand for?”

An archon Seph hadn’t known before today spoke up. She’d introduced herself to him as Saleen earlier, and she had spoken just now, right before that fat fool. The two appeared to be on good terms.

“Whatever you might think of his words, Archon Krossom, Archon Oldeban is still an archon and you should address him with his pro-“

Seph was too old and too angry to be polite and simply cut the woman off.

“I reserve the use of that title for those worthy of it, Oldeban has just proven that he isn’t.”

Stunned silence greeted that proclamation, the others staring at Seph, quite a few in disbelief. Oldeban started sputtering something about respect, but he too was cut off. Not by Sephian though, this time it was one of the younger archons, Archon Kameer.

“Hear, hear. The venerable Archon Krossom is right. Saleen’s words were bad enough, doubting the findings of the oldest member of this august body, but Oldeban’s words verge on treason. Our very purpose, the reason this order was founded, is to look for and to aid The Heir. If The Heir has once again been found, and if Archon Krossom says it is so then it is so, then it is our sacred charge to aid him in any way we can. May any who disagree speak up now, so all here know them as a coward and a traitor.”

Seph was impressed. He’d not been able to get the measure of the young Ardalian Archon yet, at least not until now. The fire of true belief shone in the powerfully built man’s eyes, and Oldeban seemed unable to meet them. Predictably, no one spoke up to disagree.

From there, talk turned away from the ifs and to the what and how. What needed to be done, and how should it be achieved?

As harsh as his words had been, and as hot as his anger had run, Seph couldn’t blame the weaker members of the circle too much. Many of them had learned at the feet of those who had actually seen heirs in their own lifetime. But none here gathered had walked alongside an heir themselves. Seph was the oldest one, and even he had not been alive to see the last heir before Velas. They didn't know, they couldn't.

Seph himself had searched for an heir his entire adult life, but he could never have anticipated how much it would invigorate his old body and soul to witness Velas growing in power and coming into his own. The way that boy mastered in days powers that had taken even Sephian, who had been a prodigious talent in his own right, months or even years, was simply astounding.

After a while the conversation turned into the archons briefing their peers on what they had been doing to further the cause in the last few decades. Trevvon had been attempting to establish contact with nightbloods, Turron had sought out and made overtures to giants. Others, it transpired, had done preciously little.

It mattered little though, what was important was that the decision had been made. The time for watching was over, the ancient order would mobilize.