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The Grand Marshal slammed her hands on the table, the sound of it reverberating across the room like thunder. "How dare they use it on us?" she demanded of no one. The Generals sat with cloudy faces on their chairs. Occasionally, their eyes would wander to an empty seat on their side of the table.
General Craleth.
Although Cyrdel didn't know the man that well, he could tell that the General meant so much to his peers and to the Grand Marshal. It's a tragic loss but there's nothing they could do at this point. One simply cannot revive the dead.
"What is the status of our men?" the Grand Marshal turned sharply at the remaining Generals.
A man Cyrdel had come to know as General Tasar cleared his throat. "All one thousand and five wounded soldiers at the healing hall have passed. The western flank led by General Kilgan had half of their men as casualties."
General Tasar continued rattling off the count. The temperature dropped notches lower until it came to a point where Cyrdel couldn't feel his hands anymore. "There are a new batch of wounded soldiers numbering at least a hundred," General Tasar was saying. "Dalan, our expert healer, passed on as well. Nyxis Helgase, the human who was knowledgeable about the art of healing, was retrieved from the battlefield unconscious and unresponsive to all kinds of waking spells."
Cyrdel's stomach sank. He witnessed how Nyxis was brought from the upper floors, paler than light and barely breathing. Reportedly, he had stolen the Human throne from the sacred hall and used its powers to neutralize the battle.
Cyrdel was on the two-hundredth floor at that time but he felt the throne's hold on his magic. Nobody could access their synnavaimis for the whole hour after the battle and its effects gradually wore off until now. Cyrdel's gut turned. Such power...it's a miracle Nyxis was still alive.
The Grand Marshal clenched her jaw so hard Cyrdel became afraid her jawbones would pop out of her cheek. "Is there really no other way?" she hissed.
"There is, Grand Marshal," Ravalee said, shooting up from her seat to match the Grand Marshal's stance. Cyrdel craned his neck in an attempt to catch Ravalee's eye. She wouldn't look at him.
What was she doing? They couldn't know of Ravalee's plan or else they would go along with it. They couldn't—
"What is it, Ravalee?" the Grand Marshal sounded worn.
"The Virtakios," Ravalee's expression was grim. The Generals gasped as one. "I know a way to bring her back."
The Grand Marshal narrowed her eyes. " 'Bring her back'? What do you mean?"
"It's true that she's with us until now but she's in no way to help us," Ravalee folded her hands atop each other on the table. "Her soul is currently trapped in the Soulcleanser. I know of a way to bring her back."
"Which is?"
"My soul," Ravalee put a hand to her chest. If not for the stupid court room rules, Cyrdel would have shit up and negated everything she said. "The Soulcleanser requires the soul on whose form the soul in the chalice will reside. I will gladly offer mine for this procedure."
