The Grand Elders assembled in the chamber, their sun-gold and river-blue robes patterned with spirals embedded in triangles, Neck rings, crescent-horn earrings tipped with red ochre, and fire-glass bracelets signaled their rank, while red eyes and faint ancestral scars traced their lineage. Daylight filtered through high, shuttered windows, casting the room in a muted, shadowed glow. The soft clinking of jewelry and anklets echoed quietly, asserting both authority and the enduring weight of Argathe tradition.
"The offer stands," said Grand Elder Olga, voice raspy and smooth as polished granite. "Cooperate with Othmir, and the government settles our districts first. We can further expand our influence."
"They promise exemptions," Grand Elder Tuyi added, voice smooth. "Trade corridors. Private enforcement."
Elder Onga leaned forward, voice hushed, drawled bracelets chiming softly. "And silence, for our past decisions."
"What for?" An Elder asked.
"Othmir intends to further oil exploration in the Southern Creeks." The Grand Elder Olga added.
Murmurs followed, hungry, cautious.
Then a sharp voice cut through, a Grand Elder Varun, younger frame caught attention as he rose to speak. "There's a complication however."
Heads turned.
"A political activist," Elder Varun continued. "Leaked a secret governmental file. Dating back to our nation's early post-independence era."
"A few events were highlighted."
"What events?" Another Elder asked.
The Elder Tuyi replied, "Othmir's first oil exploration in…"
"The Southern Creeks." Elder Olga cut in, voice deep and raspy.
"A few names were mentioned. One stood out." Elder Varun continued.
"What name?" someone demanded.
Elder Olga's lips tightened. "Imperial Elder Guyi."
The chamber stilled.
"A few months ago, I received disturbing reports from the Eastern region." Olga said, her posture rigid, eyes patrolling her audience.
Silence stretched taut.
Briefly.
She continued, "A certain descent of the Bronze lines caused a commotion in the local court."
She paused.
"Even the authorities couldn't intervene." She snapped, voice low yet piercing.
The pillars trembled into murmurs.
"Descents of Guyi were responsible," She added.
The hall collapsed into murmurs as they grew louder.
Olga nodded, Two guards with Kava blades, left the hall.
A blink later.
Two more guards entered, flanking the Local Elders Thamir and Varyk of the Eastern region.
Grand Elder Olga's gaze, sharp as river pearls in the dim light, fell upon them.
"What transpired at the eastern granary with Arisha and her sons?" She inquired, voice raspy yet commanding
Elder Thamir shifted, the soft chime of his fire-glass bracelets punctuating his hesitation. "She confronted the local court," he admitted. "Demanding the release of her sons. The arrests, enforced under our orders, were deemed unjust by her."
Elder Varyk nodded slowly, yellow-tipped crescent-horn earrings catching the muted daylight. "Her actions caused murmurs even among the magistrates, questioning the validity of the detentions," he added, his voice low but edged with concern.
"She demanded her sons, Navir and Sorvan, be released," Elder Varyk continued, voice low but sharp, yellow-tinged crescent-horn earrings catching the dim light. "Their detention was unjust, yet enforced under our orders."
The room tensed; fire-glass bracelets chimed faintly as fingers drummed across tables. "She stirred dissent," Thamir continued, his red eyes narrowing. "Even the magistrates whispered among themselves, questioning the arrests."
Elder Olga posture straightened, clasping her ancestral waist chain. "Her defiance spreads faster than wild fire. The common folk are beginning to question our judgment."
A younger Grand Elder, Varun, spoke cautiously, voice echoing in the shadowed chamber. "Her actions have raised questions amongst the people."
Silence fell.
The weight of Arisha's disruption pressed against the elders' authority.
The chamber fractured into voices.
"He bears the signs," Elder Varyk said, fingers tightening around his Arùk-Lira neck rings. "The eyes. The timing. Guyi does not fade, he recurs."
"Careful," Thamir snapped. "To name him reborn is to invite panic. Words spread faster than virus."
Fire-glass bracelets chimed as hands struck stone. "The people are already watching him," Elder Tuyi warned. "A boy like that becomes a mirror. A project of hope…"
"Or rebellion," Olga cut in.
"A shattered mirror can cut anyone," Varun said quietly.
"Some wars don't end," Elder Olga said. "They evolve."
Silence followed, thick and deliberate.
"If he is ignored, he grows," one Elder murmured.
"And if he is crushed…"
"... he becomes a martyr," Olga countered, her gaze hardening.
"Then we do neither." Grand Elder Theene rose beside Olga, tall and imposing, his voice shook the hall, startling even her
She nodded briefly in respect.
"Watch the descendants of Guyi," Olga added.
The decree settled without ink, carried by nods and quiet assent.
That night, Arisha paused at her doorway, the wind brushing her wrap. The air felt wrong, too still.
"Strange," she murmured, pressing a hand to her chest.
Inside the city, Navir slowed his walk. The street was empty. Too empty.
He stopped.
"Someone's following me," he whispered.
He turned sharply.
Nothing.
No sound.
No shadow out of place.
"Weird." He shrugged, turning his back, and continued walking.
Yet the feeling remained, heavy, patient.
A hooded figure watched him from the rooftops.