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Chapter 654: The High Chamber
🕑 Added 2025-08-24 06:25:13 +0000 UTCThe Central District was home to the High Chamber of Hollow Shade, where the Ebon Lords of old gathered and ruled over the city. A long, rectangular table made of black stone sat at the center of the circular chamber. Ashen wood chairs lined the table, one for each of the great Ebon Lords.
Yet in time, the Ebon Lords began to fall, one at a time. Many were slain during the war against Lunis. Some passed from the after-effects of the creation of the Shade Wall, while others were found dead from mysterious and dubious circumstances.
In the end, only Atreus Thorn, a young Ebon Aspirant, survived. When he came into his own power, he waged war against the Houses that once proudly boasted Ebon Lords. Without their Ebon Lords, the Houses’ power had waned, and they were swiftly crushed.
Atreus declared himself king of Hollow Shade and had his green mages destroy the High Chamber’s black stone table and fashion it into a throne that he placed on a dais, watching over the rest of the chamber, where he placed a new table. It was a half-ring in shape and made of a dark wood. His most loyal retainers were given a seat, each chair aimed in the direction of the Rose Throne.
The Last Ebon Lord’s reign would not last. When Atreus died, his death was as mysterious and unclear as those that came before him. With the Last Ebon Lord dead and his heir nowhere to be found, there was a hole left in the power structure of the city-state.
The second son of Atreus declared himself king and acted quickly to try and keep a stranglehold over the other Houses, but open rebellion broke out, led by six powerful families, some more ancient than even House Thorn.
But it was a minor merchant House, composed of humans, the Helenes, that proved the Thorn’s downfall. They betrayed the Thorns at a crucial moment in battle and allowed the Six to deal a decisive blow against the king. Atreus' second son was killed and his relatives were forced to flee to their ancestral home of Undergrowth.
The era of the Ebon Lords that had begun in the Age of Memory and spanned throughout the entirety of the Nexus Age had come to an abrupt end during the early years of the Schism.
In exchange for their betrayal, the Helenes were awarded a Ruling Seat in the new era of Hollow Shade, and the Six became the Seven Ruling Families. The true Rose Throne was ripped off the dais and taken out of the High Chamber.
The half-ring table would stay, but the chairs would not. The Seven each fashioned a new chair for themselves, with small details carved into the wood, each carrying details of their House’s heraldry.
“...and to this day, the Seven Ruling Families’ chairs reside in the High Chamber right behind those doors.” The old historian gestured to the massive double doors of steel that stood imposingly at the end of the hall.
“Whatever happened to the Rose Throne?” Stryg asked.
“The Thorn family would replicate the Rose Throne in their castle, deep in the heart of Undergrowth. As for the original? I believe it was taken by the Goldelms. Legend has it, they stashed it away in their treasure vaults. But you might know better about that than I.”
“Would I?”
The old man nodded. “The Veres and Goldelm’s friendship dates back a thousand years, to the inception of their families. Well, the Goldelm’s were technically a relatively young minor House at the time, but you understand my point. I’m sure Lady Goldelm could enlighten you on the validity of her family’s history.”
Stryg made a mental note to ask Freya about the throne later. “Thank you for the tour, Lord Archivist.”
“It was my honor, my lord. It has been a long time since someone of your station has taken an interest in these old walls and the chamber it bears.” The old man spoke with genuine mirth and he bowed as low as his back would allow him.
“Might I bother you with one more question?” Stryg asked.
“Of course, my lord. I will answer to the best of my ability.”
“If one wanted to, could they change a chair in the High Chamber?”
“Change it? The Seven Seats are practically relics. Ancient parts of our city’s history. More importantly, they are physical representations of the power of the Seven Ruling Families. No one would dare even touch one of the chairs, save for the servants who clean and the lords and ladies who sit upon them.”
“What if I wanted to change a seat? My own, for example.”
“Well, you are the Lord of House Veres. If you replaced your chair or had changes made to it, I suppose no one would voice their objections, even if some archivists find it inappropriate. Of course, trying to do anything to the seats of the other seven would be an assault on their power and practically an open declaration of war.”
“Good to know.” Stryg made another mental note to not touch any of the other chairs in the High Chamber.
“My lord, the Lunar Elects have arrived,” Gale whispered into his ear.
Stryg almost jumped at her voice. Even for his sharp ears, her footsteps were as silent as they were light. His Shadow was never far away from him these days. It was commonplace for a Veres and his Shadow, but Stryg had been a Veres for only a few months, and he was still getting used to having someone following him.
“Thank you for the lesson, Lord Archivist. It was most enlightening.” Stryg bowed his head.
The old man froze at the sight of Stryg’s bow. No lord of Stryg’s position would grace him with a bow, even if he was the head archivist. The powerful did not notice the small and weak. “The honor truly was mine, my lord,” he whispered and bowed in return. He held the bow long after Stryg left.
~~~
The rest of the Seven Lords and Ladies of Hollow Shade were already in their seats around the half-ring table. Freya gave him the least subtle cocked eyebrow. Stryg ignored her look, and walked past the massive iron doors and into the High Chamber. Gale followed behind.
Gale pulled out the black chair for him, and Stryg studied the chiseled skulls and the rubies engraved in the wood before he took a seat. The Goldelm seat was to his right and the Noir seat to his left.
It was customary for the Seven to bring two retainers, who served as their bodyguards and advisors, with them into the High Chamber. Stryg wondered where Gian had gone. He was supposed to have met Gale and him inside the chamber.
As for the others, Stryg noticed Freya’s brothers behind her. Cedric stood to her left, hand hanging loosely on the handle of his hammer. Aric sat in his wheelchair to her right, hands clasped on his lap. He looked better than the last time Stryg had seen him. Una Noir stood behind Loh and to Stryg’s surprise, so did Lily. Elzri’s assistant had grown closer to Loh than Stryg thought.
Lady Calantha Ashe spared Stryg a glance, then continued leading the talks as Vayu and Loh voiced their opinions on one matter or another.
Freya leaned over to stryg and whispered, “What took you so long?”
“I was taking a tour of the building,” he replied.
“What?” Freya gave him an odd look. “The meeting has already been going on for half an hour.”
“And it’s been nothing but talks about the price of rebuilding, I’m guessing. That’s all the last few meetings have been about. How much gold this is gonna take? How much gold that is gonna take, and so forth, and so forth,” he grumbled.
“Well, yeah. Buildings and merchandise cost money, Stryg. If you recall, there was a little thing called a war that destroyed lots of it a few weeks ago.”
“We are the wealthiest Great City in all the Ebon Realm. We can afford to fix all of it. Why even bother with these talks?”
“You really don’t care how much we end up spending?”
“Why should I?” Stryg asked.
Gale cracked a small smile at his question, but hid it well.
Freya shook her head. “I remember back in the academy when Callum told me you didn’t care whatsoever for coin or how much of it any of us had. I thought he was kidding.”
“It’s all just soft metal. Gold breaks with little more than a snap of the finger.” Stryg shrugged. Why everyone outside of Vulture Woods was obsessed with gold, he would never understand.
“I wish everything were as simple as you see it,” Freya sighed. “Every noble is claiming to have lost more than they have in hopes the council grants them more gold. Meanwhile, we still haven’t finished rebuilding the Commoner District, which has only been made more difficult because of the Sylvan armies residing in half the district.”
“Lady Freya is right,” Calantha Ashe said. Clearly, the vampiress had been listening.
Freya sat up in her chair. “Pardon the interruption, High Priestess.”
“My, you are far more polite than your father,” Calantha noted. “I suppose only Krall and I would recall. Everyone else here is rather quite new to the High Chamber.”
Krall was unusually quiet, his expression dark, distant. He didn’t seem to even register Calantha’s words. Evelyn and his son, Niko, sat behind him. Neither of them seemed particularly interested in the topic at hand, either.
Calantha turned from the orcs and addressed the council as a whole. “I believe we can move away from redundant monetary conversations for now, don’t you all agree?”
“I do,” Loh said, relieved.
“What do you have in mind, Lady Ashe?” Vayu asked.
“As Lady Freya so aptly put it, the Commoner District is still in ruins after the siege. The Sylvan armies deny our soldiers and mages access to their side of the district, making it impossible to continue reconstruction. Even worse, the Sylvan’s leader, the Lunar Elects, has refused any sort of meeting with our emissaries.” Calantha looked at Stryg, “You informed me your connections with the Sylvans could open communication between our people. But as of yet, we have heard nothing of the sort.”
Stryg smiled, “Not to worry. I am told the Lunar Elects arrived a few moments ago.”
“What? Here? In the building?” Calantha rose to her feet.
Vayu followed suit and his drow guards grabbed the hilts of their swords. Tristan Helene looked at his caretaker, worried. She placed a reassuring hand on his little shoulder as their bodyguard stepped between them and the doors. Even Loh and Freya looked surprised. But it was the Katags whose expressions darkened.
As if on cue, the giant doors slid open slowly on silent hinges. The chamber’s herald walked in and spoke in a crisp, clear voice. “The Lunar Elects of Evenfall request permission to enter the High Chamber.”
“Permission granted,” Calantha replied, her scarlet eyes on edge.
The herald nodded. “Announcing the Eyes of the Watcher, the Shaman Elect, Lady Lumi, Daughter of Frost Whisper.”
Lumi strutted into the High Chamber, head held high, yellow eyes sharp and filled with judgment. She wore the blue silk cloak of her position and it rippled with the currents of unseen mana with each step she took.
“The Hands of the Watcher, the Warrior Elect, Lord Lykos, Son of Storm Howler.” Lykos walked in halfway through the herald’s announcement. Instead of his usual ceremonial garments, he wore his battle armor and carried his ax in his hand. He stepped up next to Lumi and glowered at the council, daring any of them to make a move. His eyes settled on Krall’s and he noticed the burning anger within the orc’s eyes. Lykos smiled at the challenge.
Calantha spotted the rising tension in the room and cleared her throat. “We welcome both of you into our High Chamber. I am Lady Calantha of House Ashe, High Priestess of Hollow Shade and de facto leader of this council. Thank you for accepting our invitation. I hope that our meeting today will be a pleasant one—”
“Standing in place of the Voice of the Watcher, the Mother Elect, Lady Sabina, Daughter of Elder Bloom,” the herald suddenly stepped aside and went down one knee, head bowed, much to the council’s surprise. “I give you Lunae’s Favoured, First Mother of the Blood Fang, Daughter of Nalindra, the First Ebon Lord of our era, Lady Aurelia the Blooded of the Great House of Veres. Accompanied by her Shield and personal Shadow, the legendary Sword Paragon of the Realm, Lord Gian of the Great House of Gale.”
Gian followed close behind Aurelia as she strode into the room, each step purposeful, her gaze strong, unbothered. She wore the iconic black cloak of House Veres, the inner side of the cloak a bright scarlet, with a golden clasp in the shape of the Veres skull. Her locks had shed their black dye, regaining their natural white sheen, and her hair was styled in the elegant fashion of nobility.
The scarlet laurel wreath she usually wore sat atop her brow, but where once it signified a First mother, now it seemed more like a crown upon the head of the realm’s most powerful archmage.
“Mom?” Stryg mumbled, wide-eyed.
Comments
optimushead
Lol, stryg is clueless af
