Everyone was expectant. Representatives from the invading nations were here—in my city, in my friend Lilith's city. They had worked hard to get this audience. All brought retinues of hundreds. The Fire Nation brought fifteen hundred pages. The believers of that strange goddess, lover of harming women who did not belong to their ranks, sent even more men to seduce the queen of a country that grew day by day. From what was once a simple land devastated by the Blood Elves to this—the plains were half their size. The mushrooms reproduced within reach of the Succubi Queen's magic. She kept getting more powerful but did not believe this field would exceed a three-hundred-kilometer radius.
So much land had generated space—a refuge for many beings. But none of these were present today. The castle reserved its Entertainment Hall. None of the ambassadors wanted to do business with the others present. From what I could see, most had included a conversation with their priestesses, so they brought sagas of poems, dances, intonations—all with phrases praising the process of liberation, Lilith's justice, and her mercy. I saw that she paid no attention. Her eyes were here, but the fluctuation in the magical field told me where she was. As always, she was in contact with the elusive Night Elves—calling them "Night Elves" seemed offensive to me. They were her eyes, ears, and hands in necessary cases... I must not distract myself! She might be there, but I heard everything. I had to be aware for any hidden signs or anything similar that might represent any kind of danger to my friend.
There was the last one—representative of Fiery, a warlike goddess who only saw pleasure in the strength and violence of her people. We had had problems with their limited expressions and mentality. During the time they waited for the audience, I had reports of six deaths per day in their camps. Some were just travelers, mercenaries—fifteen were from their own ranks, bored with nothing to do, they took their training too far. I would like to say they were the worst, but the sadistic Lefem had begun trying to kidnap some of the peasant women living on the eastern border of the forest. They thought that being far from their camp, no one would connect them. If they had gone willingly, I thought we would not intervene. But since it was not that way, since they killed several—not massacred—years of living here had turned them into a force to fear even for trained soldiers. If I added to that the zealots who invaded the lands of the stupid god who called himself Phaladine, who sought by any means to convert people to total asceticism and submission to their god, understanding that none of the attempts should end with the application of the tattoo—that was the only rule we gave them. Lilith did not want them to know it did not work, that there was no way to add more power to that of their corrupt deities.
But none of this was mentioned. Everyone contributed meat, wine, enormous sacrificed animals—not from the forest, but from its surroundings. One of them, an enormous mountain feline, was presented as if it were a great catch. But I knew that animal had come seeking refuge in these lands and was wounded by all the mercenaries who sought the enormous price of five hundred gold offered for its pelt. Apparently, some Blood Elves had not changed much in these years and continued financing incursions into the Dark Forest. They brought it as a pet—I think it was a gift... They did not know how much it offended her.
The thinkers who attacked the Whitecaps came with a declamation—very typical of people coming from outside the continent:
"This is the story
of the great heroes
of the goodness that emanates
from she who is queen
of the Dark Forest.
The beauty that Lilith delivers.
Every day they face
the lives of those present here
always deciding for all
always thinking of the happiness
of the humble, of the worker—
justice for those who live here.
No one understands her sorrows,
always seeking to help,
she assists the hungry,
the poor, the lonely,
understanding what happens.
She holds them in her heart.
So great is her compassion
that she always seeks the best.
She knows we are not an invasion—
we are redemption.
We will buy the evil of the forest.
We will help her in her salvation.
She lived from long ago,
lived with evil incarnate,
wrested from the hands of darkness
the elves, the forests,
the refuge of knowledge.
All the past was defined.
Oh, queen of the succubi,
lover of peace,
allow my god
to take your hand in marriage,
to take your servants to his protective bed,
for ever and ever... Amen."
The explosion of criticism erupted. Everyone sought their alliance, but no one had been so direct. The words were foul; the aggression escalated. No one had killed—not yet. Everyone tore their clothes, demanding to be the ones to win the queen's favor, her submission to the continent they represented. Until one of the envoys of the Just God, apparently offended at not having been able to kill a woman of Fiery, clamored for justice. At that moment, the shadow on the throne—who had not changed expression, austere, who they thought was sleeping, but no—now her power was evident. The room went dark, while a sardonic laugh echoed on the walls, in their ears, in their hearts. It was my friend's laugh. Even being a phoenix, it was scary when she laughed like that.
Before they could recompose their expressions, they all showed their true impression of her: they feared her. She just kept laughing. Then she said:
"Someone asked for justice. Know that in this place, that word has a true meaning. Here, it is applied with the reality of things. He who clamored for it must know that he just bet his life on something as valuable as justice. Let the trial begin... "