The first lock released with a heavy turn.
Another followed, then several more from somewhere deeper within the dark wooden doors. By the time the last mechanism settled into place, every Guardian in the chamber had turned toward them.
The doors slowly opened inward.
Nobody stood beyond them.
Sair's ears shifted as he peered through the opening. There should have been another chamber, a corridor, perhaps even another wall, yet the space beyond revealed only darkness that seemed to swallow what little afternoon light reached it.
Vorga stared into it for several seconds before looking toward Orren.
"Council's in there?"
"No."
Vorga's brow lowered.
Before he could ask what exactly they had been waiting for, footsteps sounded from the passage behind them.
The Guardians turned.
The elderly woman approaching them was considerably shorter than most of the people waiting for her and wore none of the armor, weapons, or elaborate religious garments that might have announced her importance. Her robes were pale gray with narrow lines of gold running along the sleeves, while her white hair had been gathered loosely behind her head.
She walked without an escort.
A broad man approaching fifty followed several steps behind, and there was considerably less subtlety to him. Dark hair had begun to gray around his temples, and his face looked as though smiling had never been included among its responsibilities. He wore the dark ceremonial armor of a high-ranking Templar, although the sword at his side was very clearly not ceremonial.
Even without an introduction, there was something unmistakably military about him. He carried himself less like a priest or administrator and more like a commander who had simply traded the battlefield for a council chamber.
Several others followed.
Keepers, Conclave representatives, senior Templars and Wardens entered together, their clothing differing almost as much as the responsibilities they carried. Some wore robes, others armor, while one elderly Warden had arrived in clothing that looked more appropriate for a workshop than a meeting with seven Guardians.
Every one of them, however, carried the same symbol somewhere upon their person.
Seven marks surrounding one.
The Concord.
Tanila inclined her head slightly.
"First Keeper."
The elderly woman smiled.
"Guardian Thyr. It has been some time."
"Not long enough for either of us to retire, apparently."
"Unfortunately, the Seven continue to find uses for us."
Tanila's expression barely changed.
"So it seems."
The woman turned toward the others, greeting each with the certainty of someone who already knew exactly who stood before her. Some received a nod and others a brief word of acknowledgment, but there was no hesitation as she moved from Guardian to Guardian.
When her attention reached Korin, however, the greeting was between two people who had never personally met.
Her eyes moved briefly over the young man's white and gold armor before returning to his face.
"Guardian Korin. Welcome to the Concord."
Korin bowed.
"Thank you, First Keeper."
Nothing in her expression suggested that she found his age unusual, though several of the people behind her looked at him a moment longer than they had the others.
The First Keeper finally turned toward Orren.
"Are we ready?"
"We are."
Orren stepped away from the open Council doors and moved toward the center of the chamber.
The Guardians watched him.
He stopped on a section of pale stone that looked no different from the rest of the floor and placed the end of his cane against it. For several seconds nothing happened, until Orren pressed down and a low vibration traveled beneath their feet.
Veska's mechanical eye immediately shifted.
The faint light within it narrowed as her gaze dropped toward the floor.
Another vibration followed the first, deeper this time, and somewhere beneath them an enormous mechanism began to move.
Vorga looked down.
"What was that?"
Orren lifted his cane.
"The chamber."
A thin line of golden light appeared beneath the place where his cane had touched.
It moved outward.
At first it resembled little more than a crack illuminated from below, but it traveled with impossible precision across the stone, dividing into seven separate lines as it reached the center of the room. Each line moved toward a different wall until all seven disappeared beneath the edges of the chamber.
The paintings hanging there trembled.
Then the walls moved.
They did not collapse or disappear. The entire side of the chamber containing the tall windows simply began sliding away from them without the slightest scrape of stone against stone. The opposite wall followed a moment later, carrying its paintings and carvings with it as though the entire structure had been placed upon invisible tracks.
Veska's mechanical eye widened.
A series of tiny rings inside the lens rotated over one another while her head moved from left to right, following the retreating walls.
The benches beneath the windows separated from the floor and sank several inches before sliding backward with the wall. The tall windows rose with them, stretching upward as sections of stone that had appeared solid moments earlier divided along seams so fine that none of the Guardians had noticed them.
Sunlight spilled farther across the floor as the chamber widened around them.
Korin turned slowly while the wall behind him continued retreating. What had been a room perhaps large enough for several dozen people was becoming something that could have held hundreds.
Then the ceiling moved.
A deep sound rolled through the chamber as the flat stone above them separated into seven enormous sections. Each withdrew toward the walls while another ceiling, hidden far above it, gradually came into view.
Veska's eye snapped upward.
The rings inside the mechanical lens began rotating faster, and she took several steps away from the others without seeming to notice she was doing it.
Above them, darkness gave way to color.
A vaulted ceiling emerged from the shadows, so high that the figures painted across it appeared small despite each one being several times the size of a person. Gold, green, crimson, blue, violet, orange and pale silver stretched across the enormous dome in separate sections before meeting around a single symbol at its center.
The Concord.
Veska turned toward the nearest wall.
Her eye flashed once.
Then again.
"That's not possible."
The broad Templar commander looked toward her.
"It usually is."
She pointed toward where one of the original walls had been.
"There was load-bearing stone there."
"Yes."
"It moved."
"Yes."
"There were no joints."
"There were."
"I scanned it."
His expression remained unchanged.
"You missed them."
Veska stared at him before her mechanical eye immediately returned to the walls.
Sair smiled.
"I think you've offended her."
"I'll recover."
"You might."
Veska raised one hand without looking at either of them.
"Quiet."
Sair's smile widened.
The transformation had not finished.
Stone pillars began rising from openings around the perimeter, each one emerging slowly enough that the carvings covering its surface could be seen piece by piece. They were enormous, wider than those in the passage outside, and each bore the history of one of the Seven faiths from floor to ceiling.
As the pillars reached their full height, sections of the expanding floor rotated between them. The benches disappeared entirely, and in their place rose curved rows of dark wood, forming several descending circles around the center of the chamber. Desks followed, emerging from beneath the floor with old scratches and faded marks already covering their surfaces, evidence that whatever machinery had hidden them had done so many times before.
Tanila watched the moving floor carefully but remained where she was.
Her position near the windows no longer existed.
The windows themselves were now perhaps thirty paces away.
She glanced toward the entrance.
That had moved too.
The passage through which they had entered remained visible, but it now sat at the end of a long aisle cutting through several rows of seating.
Sair slowly turned in place.
"So that little room was never a little room."
"No," Orren said.
"How much of the Concord does this?"
Orren looked at him.
"Yes."
Sair's ears lifted.
"That wasn't the question."
"I am aware."
Vaelor's pale gray eyes traveled from the ceiling to the newly emerged pillars, then toward the rows of seats surrounding them.
"Excessive."
Orren looked toward him.
"We've been told."
That earned the smallest movement from the corner of Vaelor's mouth.
Oria had remained almost completely still throughout the transformation. Only the blue light behind her visor betrayed how much she was observing, moving rapidly across the room as new structures emerged.
Korin looked toward the floor beneath Orren.
The golden lines had continued spreading while everything moved. They now formed an enormous seven-pointed design beneath the central section of the chamber, though the lines never touched one another. Each stopped just short of a circular platform in the center.
Veska finally stopped turning.
Her mechanical eye remained active.
"How old is this?"
The elderly Warden answered.
"The current configuration?"
Veska looked toward him.
"Yes."
"Three hundred and twelve years."
Her eye shifted toward the nearest pillar.
"And the mechanisms?"
The Warden smiled.
"We don't know."
That got her attention.
"You don't know?"
"Some are older than the chamber. Several sections were incorporated from structures beneath it, and those structures incorporated mechanisms from whatever stood here before them."
Veska looked back toward the floor.
The Warden continued.
"We've replaced parts."
"Which parts?"
"Many."
"That isn't specific."
"It wasn't meant to be."
Veska stared at him.
For the first time since entering the Concord, there was something close to awe on her face. It was not quite wonder, but rather an almost irritated fascination with the fact that something existed which she could not immediately understand. Her mechanical eye continued scanning the nearest pillar, following lines and seams that were invisible to everyone else.
Sair leaned slightly toward Vorga.
"She'll be here all night."
Vorga grunted.
The last mechanism finally settled.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The chamber that surrounded them now bore almost no resemblance to the one they had entered.
Seven enormous pillars stood equally spaced around the room, each accompanied by a tall stained-glass window bearing the symbol of one of the Gods. The colored light that had once entered through only one side of the waiting chamber now surrounded them completely, crossing over the circular floor until the different colors met near its center.
There were no thrones and no raised platform from which a ruler could stare down at everyone below. Instead, seven curved desks occupied the innermost circle, each positioned at the same height and the same distance from the center.
Equal.
The First Keeper walked toward one of them.
The other Council members followed.
Only then did the Guardians realize there were seven places waiting opposite them as well.
The elderly woman took her seat first. The broad Templar commander sat two places to her right, while Orren moved toward another position and lowered himself into his chair without assistance. The remaining Council members followed until all seven seats had been occupied.
The Guardians remained standing.
"Please," the First Keeper said, gesturing toward the places opposite the Council. "This may take some time."
Vorga glanced toward the chair nearest him.
"Finally."
He sat.
One by one, the others followed.
Tanila chose her seat without complaint, although her eyes briefly measured the new distance to both exits before she lowered herself into it. Vaelor sat immediately and leaned back, while Sair settled into his chair with considerably more comfort than anyone had invited him to display.
Veska was the last.
Her eye was still scanning the ceiling.
"Guardian Renn."
She looked toward the First Keeper.
"Yes?"
"Your seat."
Veska glanced at it, then back at the ceiling.
"Right."
She sat.
Sair's tail moved behind his chair.
The First Keeper waited until the last Guardian had settled before rising from her own seat.
"Before we begin, there are several among us who have not been formally introduced."
She placed one hand lightly against her chest.
"Elowen Marr, First Keeper of the Concord."
There was no lengthy explanation of her position. None was needed.
She gestured toward the broad man in dark armor seated nearby.
"Garran Duran, High Commander of the Templars."
Garran gave the Guardians a short nod. Up close, the impression he had given when entering the chamber only became stronger. He looked far more comfortable wearing a sword than sitting behind a council desk.
Elowen continued around the circle.
"Maera Sol, Speaker of the Conclave."
The middle-aged woman beside Garran inclined her head. She wore no armor and carried no visible weapon, only layered blue and gray robes fastened at the shoulder by the seven-pointed symbol of the Concord.
"Torren Hale, First Warden."
The elderly man who had answered Veska during the chamber's transformation raised two fingers in greeting. His clothing still looked more suited to a workshop than a council chamber, and several small tools remained tucked into the belt around his waist.
"Serah Venn, High Steward."
The woman beside him offered a polite nod. She appeared younger than most of the Council, perhaps somewhere in her forties, with dark hair tied neatly behind her head and a collection of documents already arranged into several precise stacks before her.
"Malrec Ilyan, Keeper of Records."
The oldest man at the table looked up from the enormous book resting before him. His thin frame seemed almost swallowed by his robes, and several smaller volumes had already accumulated around his seat.
Elowen's attention finally moved toward the man the Guardians already knew.
"And Senior Keeper Orren Vale, Chief Warden of the Concord."
Orren inclined his head.
Seven members now occupied the inner circle, each representing a different part of the institution surrounding them. Keepers, Templars, Wardens, the Conclave, Stewards and those responsible for preserving the Concord's records all had a voice at the same table, though Orren alone carried responsibilities that crossed more than one of those boundaries.
Elowen returned to her seat.
"Now that we all know who is questioning whom, we can begin."
She folded her hands over the desk and looked across the seven Guardians.
"Guardians of the Seven, on behalf of the Concord, thank you for answering our summons."
Her voice was not loud, yet the shape of the chamber carried it easily to every corner.
"The circumstances surrounding this Descent have already required more cooperation between our Dominions than we would normally expect so early in a cycle. I understand that several of you traveled here with little notice, and some of your Blessed had barely returned home before being asked to leave again."
Vorga folded his arms.
"Didn't bother him."
Elowen looked toward him.
"Rokhan?"
"Would've left the same day if I let him."
"Restless?"
"Very."
Sair smiled.
"Enthusiastic?"
Vorga glanced toward him.
"Restless."
"There's a difference?"
"Yes."
Sair appeared to consider asking what it was, but Tanila looked at him.
He remained quiet.
Elowen continued.
"We will try not to keep any of you longer than necessary. There are, however, several matters we need clarified before we decide how the Concord should proceed."
Korin sat straighter.
"Clarified?"
Elowen's attention moved toward him.
"Perhaps compared would be more accurate."
She folded her hands over the desk.
"The Concord receives reports from every Dominion following a Descent. Normally those reports differ in detail, but the general pattern remains consistent. Predictions are made before the Descent, candidates are discussed, and when the selection occurs there is usually some connection between what a Dominion expected and whom their God ultimately chose."
Nobody interrupted.
"This time, there appears to be very little."
Elowen looked toward Korin first.
"Valmyr maintained a formal list of possible candidates for Elyndra's selection."
"Yes."
"How many?"
"Seven primary candidates. More were considered outside that group."
"And you were among the seven."
Korin didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
Vorga looked toward him.
Sair's ears lifted slightly.
Elowen continued.
"Where?"
Korin was quiet for a moment.
"First."
The answer produced less reaction than it might have among ordinary people, though several eyes settled on him.
Vorga's did as well.
Korin noticed but kept his attention on the Council.
Elowen looked down briefly at something on the desk before her.
"Cael Varin's name did not appear anywhere on Valmyr's primary list."
"No."
"Secondary considerations?"
"No."
"Religious recommendations?"
"No."
"Military?"
"No."
"Regional diviners?"
Korin's jaw tightened slightly.
"No."
Elowen raised her eyes.
"Was he considered at all?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
Sair leaned back slightly.
"So they expected you."
Korin looked toward him.
"They expected several people."
"You were first."
"Yes."
"And Elyndra chose someone who wasn't even on the list."
"Yes."
Sair's tail moved once.
"Interesting."
Korin didn't respond.
Elowen turned toward Tanila.
"Thalenwood?"
Tanila already knew the question.
"No."
"Serenya Thaloriel was never formally considered?"
"She was known locally as a capable healer's apprentice. Nothing more."
"Did any recognized diviner name her?"
"No."
"Any prophecy interpreted as referring to her before the Descent?"
"None."
Elowen turned toward Vorga.
"Gravann?"
Vorga shook his head.
"No."
"Was Rokhan Graal among those considered likely?"
"No."
"Was he considered at all?"
"No."
"Did any temple know his name?"
"Probably not."
The answer lingered for a moment.
Elowen moved to Veska.
"Atherion?"
Veska finally stopped scanning the chamber.
"No."
"Tova Brimestone wasn't among your expected candidates?"
"Not even close."
"Why?"
Veska's mechanical eye focused on her.
"Because the people making the lists were looking at decorated engineers, military artificers, established inventors and people who had spent years working with the temples."
"And Tova?"
"Blew up a workshop."
A pause followed.
Sair looked toward her.
"Intentionally?"
"Mostly."
Garran's expression tightened.
"Mostly?"
Veska shrugged.
"She hasn't given me a consistent answer."
For the first time, Elowen's mouth almost formed a smile before she moved on.
"Vel'kaar?"
Sair rested one elbow against the arm of his chair.
"No."
"Kaelric Varr was not predicted."
"Not by anyone willing to put it in writing."
Elowen's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning Vel'kaar has a great many people who become prophets after something has already happened."
Garran gave a quiet breath through his nose.
Sair smiled.
"If anyone accurately predicted Kaelric before the Descent, I've yet to find them."
Elowen nodded.
"Isoryn?"
Oria answered immediately.
"No recognized prediction identified Elyra Vosin."
"None?"
"None."
"Eldranveil?"
Vaelor's fingers rested against the arm of his chair.
"No."
"Silas Drevin was already widely known."
"Yes."
"But not considered a likely selection?"
"No."
Elowen became quiet.
Seven answers from seven Dominions, and not one had been correct.
Malrec shifted through several sheets of parchment beside his enormous book, though whatever he was looking for apparently failed to improve the situation.
Tanila watched him.
"You already knew this."
Elowen looked toward her.
"We had reports."
"Then why ask us?"
"Because reports are written after events occur."
Tanila understood immediately.
"You wanted to know whether the Dominions had changed their stories."
"Yes."
Sair smiled.
"Did they?"
"Several have become considerably more confident in predictions they failed to record before the Descent."
Sair laughed.
"Of course they have."
Orren's hands rested over the head of his cane.
"The Concord has spent centuries collecting predictions surrounding each Descent. Most are wrong. Some are partially correct. A very small number have been accurate enough to deserve preservation."
Korin looked toward him.
"And this time?"
"Nothing."
The word settled heavily despite how quietly Orren said it.
"No preserved prophecy identified any of the seven. No recognized diviner named them. No pattern we have found connects them to the candidates proposed by their respective Dominions before the Descent."
Vorga frowned.
"So everyone guessed wrong."
"That would be the simplest interpretation," Elowen said.
Sair's ears shifted.
"And the complicated one?"
"That something changed."
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Elowen allowed the silence to remain before continuing.
"The predictions are not the primary reason we asked you here."
Vorga leaned back.
"Good."
Elowen looked toward him.
"You dislike prophecy?"
"I dislike meetings about prophecy."
"That distinction may become useful."
A faint smile appeared on Sair's face, but Elowen continued before he could contribute.
"Since the Descent, every Dominion has attempted to establish some form of communication with its respective God."
Tanila nodded.
"As expected."
"Diviners, temples, sacred sites, relics, dreams, rituals and every recognized method of divine communication currently available to them."
Elowen looked around the circle.
"We have received the official reports. I want your answers."
Her attention settled on Tanila first.
"Has Aenvara provided Thalenwood with instructions regarding what is expected of Serenya?"
"No."
"Anything concerning the coming Trial?"
"No."
"Any vision from a recognized diviner?"
"Several visions."
Elowen waited.
Tanila's expression remained hard.
"None useful."
"What did they contain?"
"Trees. Rivers. A field of flowers. One woman dreamed about a deer for three nights."
Sair tilted his head.
"Same deer?"
Tanila looked at him.
"Yes."
"Interesting."
"No."
Sair closed his mouth.
Elowen looked toward Vorga.
"Draveth?"
"Nothing."
"No communication?"
"Plenty."
That caused several people to look toward him.
Elowen leaned forward slightly.
"Explain."
"Priests claim they hear him. Warriors dream about battles. One temple had blood run backward through a ceremonial basin."
"And instructions?"
"No."
"Anything concerning Rokhan?"
"No."
"The Trial?"
"No."
Elowen's fingers pressed together.
"Thalenor?"
Veska shook her head.
"Nothing direct."
"No diviner?"
"Three claim they received instructions."
"And?"
"One contradicted the other two. The other two contradicted each other."
Sair smiled.
"That does sound like Thalenor."
Veska looked toward him.
"That's what they said."
Sair's smile faded slightly.
Elowen continued around the chamber.
Narethos had provided no clear instruction. Neither had Kharoth. The diviners of Isoryn had received memories and visions from Vaerith, but none explained what Elyra was expected to do next.
Even Valmyr, whose temples had spent the weeks following the Descent examining every recorded word attributed to Elyndra, had found nothing Korin considered an instruction.
By the time the last answer had been given, the mood in the chamber had changed.
Elowen leaned back and remained quiet for several seconds before sighing. It was not the exhausted sigh of someone bored by a meeting, but something quieter, accompanied by the slight closing of her eyes before she looked toward Orren.
"I was hoping one of you would tell us something different."
Vorga frowned.
"You don't know either?"
"We know something," Orren said.
Every Guardian looked toward him.
The Senior Keeper remained seated with both hands resting over his cane.
"Unfortunately, what we received has raised considerably more questions than it answered."
Sair leaned forward.
"From whom?"
Orren looked at him.
"The question of origin remains under examination."
Sair's ears lifted.
"That sounds intentionally vague."
"It is."
"You don't trust us?"
"I don't trust information we have not verified."
Sair considered that before nodding.
"Fair."
Elowen took over.
"What we can verify is that multiple independent sources within the Concord received the same message within hours of the Descent. Different methods, different locations and different people."
Korin's eyes narrowed.
"What message?"
Elowen glanced briefly toward Orren.
He nodded.
She looked back toward the Guardians.
"There will be three Trials."
For several seconds, nobody reacted.
Then Vorga leaned forward.
"Three?"
"Yes."
"Three separate Trials?"
"That is our interpretation."
Tanila's fingers tightened around her staff.
"One after another?"
"We don't know."
Sair spoke next.
"At the same time?"
"We don't know."
Veska's mechanical eye narrowed.
"How much time between them?"
"We don't know."
Vaelor finally sat forward.
"Are they connected?"
Elowen paused.
"We don't know."
Sair looked around the Council.
"I think I'm beginning to notice a pattern."
Nobody laughed.
His ears lowered slightly.
"Right."
Oria's visor remained fixed on Elowen.
"Has this happened before?"
"No."
The answer came from Orren.
Oria turned toward him.
"Never?"
"Not in any complete record maintained by the Concord."
"And incomplete records?"
Orren's expression tightened.
"There are references to unusual cycles. None describe three separate Trials."
Tanila looked between the Council members.
"How far back do your complete records go?"
"Far enough that this concerns us."
"That wasn't a number."
"No," Orren said. "It wasn't."
Tanila stared at him for a moment before letting it go.
Korin remained focused on the original answer.
"Three Trials."
Elowen nodded.
"That is the only information upon which every source agrees."
"And our Gods haven't told any of us."
"No."
Vorga's expression darkened.
"They choose seven children, tell nobody why, then decide one Trial isn't enough."
The chamber became noticeably quieter.
Orren looked toward him.
Vorga did not retract the statement.
Neither did Orren challenge it.
Instead, Elowen folded her hands again.
"The number of Trials is not our most immediate concern."
Vorga stared at her.
"You've got something worse?"
"Potentially."
Sair leaned back.
"This meeting continues to improve."
Elowen ignored him.
"All seven Blessed are sixteen years old."
Nobody needed the information explained to them individually. They had each known the age of the person placed under their protection, but what none of them had needed to consider until now was the pattern formed when all seven were placed beside one another.
Elowen continued.
"Not approximately the same age. Not merely younger than average. Every Blessed selected during this Descent was sixteen years old at the moment of selection."
Korin's eyes moved slightly as he considered it.
Tanila was the first Guardian to answer.
"That has never happened."
"No."
"Closest?"
Malrec answered this time.
"Four Blessed within a six-year range, two hundred years ago."
"All seven?"
"Never."
Veska frowned.
"What is the average?"
"It varies too widely between races and periods for a single average to be particularly useful," Elowen said. "What matters is that historically, the Seven have overwhelmingly chosen individuals who had already reached adulthood by the standards of their people."
Oria tilted her head.
"Eidoryn development does not correspond exactly with human development."
"We accounted for that."
"And Elyra?"
"Still unusually young."
Oria became quiet.
Elowen looked around the circle.
"Previous Blessed were not necessarily old, nor were they always warriors, scholars or rulers. They were, however, generally people who had already spent years becoming whatever they were before the Descent."
Tanila understood before she finished.
"These seven haven't."
"No."
"They're children."
"Yes."
The words carried no insult and no dismissal of their abilities. It was simply the problem.
Vorga's arms slowly unfolded.
"They aren't ready."
Orren answered him.
"No."
There was something almost uncomfortable about hearing the admission from him. The Senior Keeper had devoted most of his life to the Seven, and his reverence for the Blessed was known well beyond the Concord, yet there was no attempt to soften the truth.
"They aren't."
Korin looked toward him.
"Then why choose them?"
Orren's eyes settled on the young Guardian.
"If I knew the answer to that question, Guardian Korin, this meeting would be considerably shorter."
Silence returned.
Sair's tail had stopped moving.
Veska's mechanical eye shifted toward the center of the floor.
"Maybe we're looking at it backward."
Several people turned toward her.
She noticed.
"What?"
Elowen gestured for her to continue.
Veska leaned back slightly.
"We keep asking why the Seven chose people who aren't ready. Maybe being ready wasn't part of whatever they were looking for."
Tanila's gaze sharpened.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning everyone predicted candidates based on previous Blessed."
Korin's expression changed slightly.
Veska looked toward him.
"Valmyr expected someone like you because someone like you made sense."
Korin didn't object.
"Atherion expected established inventors because they made sense. Thalenwood expected whoever fit Aenvara's previous patterns. Everyone built lists based on what the Gods had done before."
Sair nodded slowly.
"And this time they wanted something else."
"Maybe."
"Such as?"
Veska shrugged.
"If I knew, I'd be sitting over there."
She gestured toward the Council.
Garran looked at her.
"No, you wouldn't."
Veska's mechanical eye shifted toward him.
"Fair."
Elowen let the thought settle.
"It is a possibility we have considered."
Korin looked toward the Council.
"Regardless of why they were chosen, they still have to face the Trials."
"Yes."
"When?"
Elowen's expression became more serious.
"That brings us to the critical matter."
She looked toward Malrec, who opened the thick volume resting before him. Several markers protruded from its pages, and the binding looked old enough that opening it too quickly might have destroyed it.
"Across recorded cycles," Elowen continued, "the beginning of the first Trial has varied. There is no exact date. However, the period between the Descent and the first Trial has remained remarkably consistent."
Korin already knew where the explanation was going.
"How long?"
"Approximately two years."
Veska's eye stopped moving.
Vorga stared at Elowen.
"Two years."
"Approximately."
Tanila's expression hardened.
"That isn't enough."
"We are aware."
"No," Tanila said. "I don't think you are."
The room quieted.
She leaned forward.
"Two years is enough time to improve a trained soldier. It's enough time to correct habits, build endurance, refine technique and prepare someone who already understands what they're doing. It is not enough time to build one from the beginning."
Her eyes moved briefly toward Korin.
"And we're not discussing soldiers. We're discussing seven children from seven different places, with different education, different experience and abilities none of them fully understand."
Vorga nodded once.
"She's right."
Tanila's gaze moved toward him.
"Rokhan can fight?"
"Yes."
"How well?"
Vorga paused.
"Well."
"Against you?"
"No."
"Against the kind of thing you expect a divine Trial to put in front of him?"
Vorga's jaw tightened.
"Don't know."
"Exactly."
She looked toward the Council again.
"Serenya can heal. She's good at it. Better than she should be at sixteen, especially after the Descent, but if you put her into a battlefield tomorrow, she dies."
No one argued.
Vaelor spoke from his chair.
"Silas is different."
Tanila looked toward him.
"He can fight."
"How well?"
"Very."
"Against you?"
Vaelor paused.
"No."
Sair smiled faintly.
"At least we're consistent."
Vaelor ignored him.
Oria spoke next.
"Elyra has almost no practical combat experience."
Veska nodded.
"Tova has plenty of experience with dangerous things."
Garran looked toward her.
"Combat?"
"No. Explosions."
"That isn't reassuring."
"It wasn't supposed to be."
Elowen's gaze eventually reached Korin.
"And Cael?"
Korin remained silent longer than the others had.
Everyone waited.
"He has improved."
Vorga looked at him.
"That wasn't the question."
Korin's jaw tightened.
"No."
The word came reluctantly.
"He isn't ready."
Elowen nodded.
There it was.
Seven Guardians, seven different Blessed, and the same conclusion.
The people chosen by the Gods were not ready for what the Gods intended to demand of them.
Elowen looked toward the ancient volume.
"Normally, this would not concern us to the same degree. Historically, the two years following the Descent have been used to prepare a Blessed for the Trial, but preparation did not begin from nothing. A warrior continued training. A scholar expanded their knowledge. A ruler learned what their blessing allowed them to accomplish. The period refined what already existed."
Orren's gaze lowered slightly.
"This time, refinement will not be enough."
Tanila nodded.
"They need development."
"Yes."
"Fast."
"Yes."
Sair looked toward the ceiling.
"And nobody knows what we're developing them for."
Elowen was silent.
Sair slowly lowered his gaze.
"Oh, I dislike that silence."
Korin looked toward the Council.
"You know something about the first Trial."
Elowen met his eyes.
"Very little."
"But something."
"Yes."
"How little?"
Elowen looked toward Orren.
The Senior Keeper answered.
"The full nature of a Trial is traditionally revealed approximately one year before it begins."
Vorga's expression changed.
"So we don't even know what it is yet."
"No."
"When?"
"If the historical pattern holds, the revelation should occur next year."
Veska leaned forward.
"Which means half of our preparation period is gone before we know what we're preparing them for."
"Yes."
Veska stared at him.
"That is a terrible system."
Orren's expression remained calm.
"I don't believe the Seven designed it for our convenience."
Sair gave a quiet laugh.
Even Tanila's mouth shifted slightly.
Veska leaned back.
"Clearly."
Korin was still focused on Orren.
"You said the full nature isn't revealed until next year."
"Yes."
"Full nature."
Orren's eyes narrowed slightly.
Korin continued.
"That means you know part of it."
Sair's ears lifted.
Vorga looked toward Orren.
The Senior Keeper remained silent for a moment before turning toward Elowen.
She gave a small nod.
Orren looked back at Korin.
"Yes."
"What?"
"We received one additional indication alongside the confirmation that there would be three Trials."
Nobody moved.
Korin waited.
Orren's hands tightened slightly over the head of his cane.
"It concerned the first."
Tanila leaned forward.
"What did it say?"
Orren looked around the chamber.
Seven Guardians watched him. Seven people who had crossed battlefields, commanded soldiers, survived wars, uncovered secrets, broken enemies and spent years becoming powerful enough that entire Dominions trusted them with the lives of their God's chosen.
For the first time since entering the chamber, none of them appeared particularly interested in one another.
Their attention belonged entirely to him.
Orren spoke.
"One word."
Vorga frowned.
"What word?"
Orren's answer traveled easily through the enormous chamber.
"Defense."
Silence followed as each Guardian seemed to consider the word separately.
Tanila's expression hardened first.
"Defense of what?"
"We don't know."
"Where?"
"We don't know."
"Against whom?"
"We don't know."
Sair's ears lowered.
"That's becoming considerably less amusing."
Oria's visor brightened slightly.
"Does the wording specify whether the Blessed are defending themselves or another target?"
"No."
"Does it identify a location?"
"No."
"A duration?"
"No."
"Conditions for success?"
"No."
Veska tapped one finger against the arm of her chair.
"Are we certain it means defense literally?"
Elowen answered.
"No."
That stopped several of them.
Veska looked toward her.
"Explain."
"The message did not arrive in a shared language. Each source received an equivalent concept. Protection. Preservation. Defense. Holding against something. The exact wording differed, but the meaning remained close enough that we believe defensive is the most accurate description available."
Tanila's eyes narrowed.
"So it could mean defending a person."
"Yes."
"A city."
"Yes."
"A Dominion."
"Yes."
"Themselves."
"Yes."
Vorga looked around the chamber.
"The world?"
Nobody answered immediately.
That silence was worse.
Vorga's expression changed.
"You're serious."
Elowen folded her hands.
"We have no evidence suggesting that."
"But you can't rule it out."
"No."
Vaelor exhaled quietly and leaned back again.
"Excellent."
Sair glanced toward him.
"You sound excited."
"I'm thrilled."
Sair smiled faintly.
Korin paid neither of them any attention.
"If we don't know the objective until next year, then specialized preparation is impossible."
"Correct," Garran said.
It was the first time the High Commander had spoken in some time, and everyone looked toward him as he rested his forearms against the desk.
"We cannot prepare them to defend a fortress because there may be no fortress. We cannot prepare them to protect civilians because there may be no civilians. We cannot prepare them for a siege because there may be no army, and we cannot assume the Trial will even resemble warfare as we understand it."
Tanila nodded.
"So you prepare them for everything."
"As much as possible."
Veska gave him a flat look.
"In two years."
"Yes."
"Seven sixteen-year-olds."
"Yes."
"From completely different backgrounds."
"Yes."
"Using blessings nobody fully understands."
"Yes."
Veska stared at him for another moment.
"I just wanted to make sure you heard how stupid that sounded."
"I heard it the first time."
Sair covered his mouth, though it did very little to hide his smile.
Elowen gave Garran a look.
He ignored it.
Tanila's attention remained on the problem.
"Independent training won't work."
Korin looked toward her.
"Why?"
"Because we don't know whether the Trial will require them independently."
Korin became quiet.
Tanila continued.
"If Serenya spends two years preparing in Thalenwood and Rokhan spends two years in Gravann, they might become considerably stronger individually. That means nothing if they're placed together and expected to function as a group."
Vorga frowned.
"They've got Guardians."
"Which may not matter."
His eyes narrowed.
Tanila looked toward Orren.
"Do we participate?"
The question changed the room again.
Orren's expression told them the answer before he spoke.
"We don't know."
Vorga leaned forward.
"What do you mean, you don't know?"
"There have been Trials in which Guardians accompanied their Blessed."
"And?"
"There have been Trials in which they did not."
Vorga's jaw tightened.
"Wonderful."
Sair's tail flicked.
"And we don't know which this is."
"No."
"So we may spend two years preparing ourselves to protect them and then watch them walk in alone."
Orren's gaze remained steady.
"Yes."
That answer killed what little humor remained.
Korin looked down at his hands. For the first time since entering the chamber, the immaculate young Guardian seemed his age, but only for a moment before he looked up again.
"So they need to be able to function without us."
"Yes."
Tanila nodded slowly.
"And with one another."
Elowen looked toward her.
"Possibly."
"No," Tanila said. "Not possibly."
The First Keeper waited.
"If there are seven of them and three Trials, we prepare for the assumption that at least one will require cooperation. Anything else would be irresponsible."
Garran nodded.
"I agree."
Vorga looked toward him.
"Then why are they separated?"
"They aren't."
The answer came from Elowen.
Vorga's brow lowered.
"They live in seven different Dominions."
"For the moment."
Several Guardians went still.
Sair's ears rose.
Veska stopped tapping her finger.
Korin looked directly at Elowen, while Tanila's expression changed almost imperceptibly and Vaelor's head lifted from where it had rested against the chair.
Elowen allowed the reaction to settle before continuing.
"That is the next matter we need to discuss."
Vorga stared at her.
"You're planning something."
"Yes."
Sair smiled.
"There it is."
Elowen ignored him.
"For now, what matters is that we agree on the problem before discussing its solution."
She looked around the circle.
"Seven Blessed have been chosen outside every meaningful prediction made by their respective Dominions. All seven are sixteen years old. None possesses the experience normally expected of a Blessed entering the preparation period. We have confirmation of three Trials rather than one, no reliable indication of the time separating them, no clear instructions from the Seven, and approximately two years before the first is expected to begin."
Nobody interrupted her.
"The full nature of that Trial will not be revealed until approximately one year beforehand. Until then, all we know is that whatever awaits them will, in some form, require defense."
The enormity of the chamber suddenly seemed less impressive.
Veska's mechanical eye had finally stopped scanning it.
Her attention rested entirely on Elowen now.
The First Keeper looked from Guardian to Guardian.
"We have one year to give seven children the strongest foundation we can before we even learn what we're truly preparing them for."
Korin's expression tightened.
"And only one year after that to adapt."
"Approximately."
"If the historical pattern holds."
"Yes."
Outside the enormous stained-glass windows, the afternoon sun had moved lower over the Concord. Colored light stretched farther across the circular floor than it had when the chamber first opened, the seven colors crossing one another near its center until their boundaries became impossible to distinguish.
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Then Vorga looked toward Elowen.
"So what's your solution?"
The First Keeper glanced toward Orren.
Orren looked toward Garran.
The High Commander's expression remained as severe as ever.
Whatever answer the three of them shared had clearly existed before the Guardians entered the room.
Elowen turned back toward them.
"That," she said, "is why we brought all of you to the Concord."