The heavy ironwood doors of the Guildmaster's office swung open with a muted groan. Crispin stepped into the room, his parents following closely behind him. Thorne and Elara moved with uncharacteristic stiffness; they were dressed in the fine silks and reinforced linens he had recently provided for them.
The vibrant colors of their new attire stood in stark contrast to the soot-stained memories of the forge. Thorne's massive shoulders seemed to strain against the unfamiliar fabric, while Elara clutched her skirts, her eyes darting between the high-backed chairs and the vaulted ceiling.
Crispin led the way, his presence anchored by the exquisite Shae'Vaelryn metal cloth. The indigo fabric shimmered like moonlight on a deep lake, flowing around his frame with a mercurial grace that defied the laws of traditional armor. He wore the black dragon-bone helmet, the void-dark surface absorbing the amber glow of the sunlight.
Alric Vale sat at the head of the massive mahogany table, his expression a mask of professional neutrality. Beside him, Elder Xereniti rested his hands on his carved cane; his pale eyes were fixed on Crispin with a quiet, knowing intensity. On the opposite side of the table, Lucien sat flanked by his parents. Dane Vale, Alric's brother, sat with his arms crossed, his face a landscape of etched resentment.
The Guildmasters of Thalandir circled the room, each in their ceremonial regalia. The Mistress of the Mages guild stood next to Lucien, in an ornate red cloak. A bowl sat on the table before her, with a vial of liquid that looked like that of bonding day. Crispin's feet wanted to fumble. The expectation that he attended, and offer his perspective had been clear, but an official hearing before this assembly? His heart thrummed.
Crispin reached the table and took his seat. He reached up and unlatched the dragon-bone helm, pulling it free to reveal his white hair and the sharp, clinical focus of his blue eyes. He laid the helmet on the polished wood with a heavy, final thud. Regulus glided down from Crispin's shoulder, his liquid-chrome body stretching into a long, serpentine form that coiled protectively in front of his tamer. Nearby, Ebony lay on the table; the black dragon whelp looked diminished, his golden eyes clouded with a visible, trembling concern.
"Crispin, thank you for your time and your attention to my summons," Alric began.
Lucien leaned forward, his face flushing a bruised purple. "Uncle, what is the meaning of this? Why is he here?"
Alric turned a cold, predatory gaze toward his nephew. "Shut it. You do not question my decisions."
Dane's face went hard at the rebuke, his jaw tightening as he stared at the smith's son sitting as an equal at the table. He remained silent, though the air around him seemed to vibrate with suppressed fury.
"Lucien Vale," the red cowled mage intoned. Her voice was stern while melodic. "The Tamers Guild has brought you before this inquest to determine the fate of you and your bonded. Its decision will be final, and there shall be no appeal." She withdrew a dagger from her cloak and reached for Lucien's hand.
His fingers trembled, but he extended it under the watch of the assembled.
Blood ebbed as she sliced his palm and milked it into the bowl. She uncorked the stopper of the bottle and mixed the two fluids together. "The bond will be severed before all assembled based on this inquisition's decision."
"I assigned you a task, Crispin Sî'Nareus," Alric continued, leaning back in his chair. "Speak. Should Lucien be expelled and his bond with Ebony be severed?"
Dane stood up abruptly, his chair screeching against the stone floor. "We will have this conversation, Alric! This is my son. I will hear nothing this smith's son has to say!"
The guards stationed at the door moved instantly, taking up positions behind the High Lord. Alric did not blink. His gaze remained as cold and unyielding as a mountain peak.
"Dane, you will sit and be silent, or I will have you removed," Alric stated; his voice was a low, dangerous rumble. "We may be High Lords outside this chamber, but here, this smith's son outranks you. He is a tamer. You are not. Brother or no, you will not question him, my decisions, or refuse to listen to what he has to say."
"I refuse—" Dane started, his voice rising.
The Elder rapped the butt of his staff against the floor, the sound echoing like a crack of thunder. He slowly shook his head.
"He holds Regulus's bond," Xereniti said, his voice carrying a weight that silenced the room. "My Ki's bud…"
Alric extended his fingers and held his father's hand. The gesture was small and private against the formality of the chamber. "Don't worry, Dad." His voice dropped to something that belonged only to the two of them. "I know what the slimes and Ki mean to you. I will not betray our lineage."
The Elder's pale eyes softened. For a moment the elder disappeared, and only a father remained. Xereniti nodded slowly. "Dane means well," he said. "He just doesn't understand the bond. Not everyone can."
Alric looked at his brother. "He holds Ki's son. If our father's sovereign bud trusts him, then so do I. Taming may have skipped you, Dane, but it has been blessed to your son. You will be silent out of respect for our father and his legacy."
What? Crispin's eyes widened. Regulus was descended from a slime owned by the elder? His heart thumped hard as he processed that fact.
Dane sat down hard, his hands balled into white-knuckled fists. He kept his mouth shut, though his eyes remained fixed on the table.
"Please, Crispin," the Elder said softly. "Tell us. Can Lucien be trusted with Ebony's bond?"
Crispin swallowed hard, his hand moving instinctively to stroke the cool, metallic scales of Regulus. He felt the slime's rhythmic pulse beneath his fingers, a grounding sensation against the tension of the room. He looked into Lucien's eyes.
"I will be honest. I am torn," Crispin admitted. "You are a good fighter and a strong knight, yet you are a coward. You knew in the pit that your life was not in danger. It was a sparring duel; it was nothing more. You, however, chose to endanger your bond's life over your foolish pride."
Dane looked as though he was about to protest again. The guards shifted immediately toward him. Alric held up his hand, and the movement stopped.
"This is your last warning, little brother," Alric said. "Crispin, continue."
"You abandoned me when we were attacked," Crispin said, his voice regaining its clinical edge. "Regulus and I could have died, but Regulus saved us. As much as I want to say you are out, I cannot. If we were in a fight and Regulus's life was in danger while I had to choose between his life and yours, I would choose his. This is the bond. When it mattered most, you chose Ebony's survival instead of ours. I think you should be on probation, but you should stay and continue to understand how important the bond is to us. I would honor my bond to Regulus even if it meant losing my own life. Please give Ebony the same respect."
Alric nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "Excellently stated, Crispin. If you and your parents will excuse us, there is much to discuss with my family."
Crispin stood and retrieved his helmet. He looked at Ebony one last time, seeing the small flicker of hope in the dragon's eyes. He gestured for Thorne and Elara to follow. He walked out of the room, leaving the High Lords to settle the debts of their own blood.