Inside the Grand Hall, the atmosphere shifted immediately. Gone was the open sky and fresh air. Here, everything felt heavy with purpose. The vast chamber had been transformed into a war room. Along the walls stood elaborate displays showcasing detailed records of VulcanFire encampments and outposts that Primara forces had already attacked—maps marked with pins, parchment scrolls layered with notes, diagrams of fortifications, supply routes, and patrol patterns.
Some markings were fresh. Recently. In the center of the room stood a massive table, upon which rested a meticulously crafted model of Avalon itself. Mountains rose in miniature ridges, rivers cut through valleys in shimmering blue lines, and each nation was marked with colored banners. VulcanFire's territory was marked in deep crimson. Starfania's chest tightened. As she stepped inside, Atlas remained close, his massive form moving with surprising quiet for such a creature. Heads turned briefly at his presence before returning to their preparations. Lyam stopped at the table, then turned toward her, curiosity flickering behind his composed exterior.
" Do you intend to listen only," he asked, " or will you contribute?"
Starfania hesitated only a moment before nodding. " For now…I'll observe."
She moved toward the edge of the chamber, choosing a shadowed corner where she could see everything without becoming the center of attention. Atlas settled beside her, coiling protectively, sapphire eyes half-lidded but alert. Lyam inclined his head, satisfied.
" Excellent," he said, turning back to the table. " Then we shall wait for the others."
Time stretched. Starfania's gaze drifted across the room, absorbing every detail—the placement of troops on the map, the tension in the officers' shoulders, the quiet urgency in their hushed conversations.
Lyam stood at the head of the table, expression unreadable. She couldn't help wondering what was going through his mind. What strategies he had already decided upon? What sacrifices he was prepared to make. Then—the door burst open. Heavy wood slammed against a stone with a thunderous boom, echoing through the chamber. Every head turned. A man strode inside, clad in majestic purple armor emblazoned with the crest of Primara. The metal gleamed beneath the tall windows, casting shifting violet reflections across the floor. He carried himself like a man who had walked through countless battlefields and survived them all.
Chains and metal fittings clinked softly with each step, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. Starfania straightened instinctively. Whoever this was…he mattered. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his build solid with strength rather than built. A thick beard framed his jaw, and piercing deep-blue eyes scanned the room with practiced awareness. Sandy-brown hair, slightly disheveled from travel, softened his otherwise imposing presence. His armor bore scratches—not decorative ones, but the kind earned in actual combat.
Despite the power he radiated, there was a warmth in his expression when his gaze settled on Lyam. Familiarity. Trust. Perhaps even friendship. He approached the table without hesitation.
" I must admit," he said, voice rich with authority yet touched with humor, " I was pleasantly surprised by how quickly you organized this war assembly."
Lyam met him halfway, expression steady.
" We had no choice," he replied. " We must prepare for the worst."
The man's features sobered immediately.
" I understand," he said. " We will do everything necessary to protect our nation."
Starfania studied him carefully. Major General, she guessed. Someone who commanded more than soldiers—someone who commanded respect. More doors opened as others began to arrive. Advisors, Commanders, diplomats, and officials filtered into the chamber, taking their places around the table. Conversations rose and fell in indistinct murmurs as reports were exchanged and documents passed hand to hand. Soon, the table was surrounded. The meeting began. From her place in the shadows, Starfania listened. At first, the discussion was measured—troop movements, supply lines, border defenses. Then the focus shifted. VulcanFire. The expansion is what it is. It's aggression. Its unpredictability.
Strategies were proposed to halt its advance…to weaken its positions…to anticipate its next move. Each word felt like a stone dropping into Starfania's stomach. They weren't speaking of an abstract enemy. They were speaking of her home. Atlas shifted slightly beside her, sensing the tension coiling through her body. She placed a hand against his scales, grounding herself. Stay calm. Observe. Learn. But as the discussion grew more intense, one truth became impossible to ignore. This wasn't just preparation. This was the beginning of war.