[A/N: I apologize to anyone who bought this chapter before I updated it. I accidentally posted a chapter from my second book here.]
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The profound silence that enveloped the esteemed Council Chamber transcended a mere lack of sound.
It manifested as an oppressive, stifling presence, permeated by the acrid odor of vaporized blood, the pungent essence of bile, and a distinct metallic aroma that filled the room.
Around the sweeping, elevated semicircle of carved mahogany desks, nine of the eleven High Councilors of Caeloria lay slumped in various grotesque postures of physiological ruin.
Their blood, darkened to a tar-like crimson by the neuro-corrosive distillation brewed in the Spire's alchemical laboratories, continued to drip with a slow, rhythmic cadence from the polished stone moldings.
Each drop struck the pristine white marble of the sunken floor below with a faint, sizzling hiss, etching microscopic pits into the centuries-old masonry.
