The silence of the past days, a suffocating blanket woven from anxiety and isolation, had beco unbearable. Viana had watched the pale light shift across her study, seen the imperceptible creep of spring, and felt the tightening noose of ti.
She could not carry this alone any longer. The potential cost of her silence, asured in the starving faces of her people and the chaos of a kingdom under siege, far outweighed the discomfort of revealing an impossible truth.
She would speak.
With a asured breath, she dispatched a servant with a formal request for an audience with her parents, the King and Queen. The summons was unusual in its urgency, drawing swift attention.
Within the hour, she was escorted to a smaller, private council chamber, a room typically used for sensitive, high-level discussions. The heavy oak doors swung shut behind her with a soft thud, sealing her in with her destiny.
King Clive, a man whose strong features were beginning to show the lines of weary rule, sat at the head of a long, polished table. Queen Isabella, her elegance undiminished by the quiet anxieties of court life, sat beside him.
Both turned to Viana, their expressions a mixture of surprise and concern. The lingering shadows beneath Viana’s eyes, the slight tremble in her hands, did not escape their notice.
"Viana, my dear," Queen Isabella began, her voice soft, "you appear... distressed. Is all well? Have your studies beco too taxing?"
King Clive’s gaze was more direct, searching. "You requested this audience with great urgency, Daughter. What troubles you so deeply?"
Viana walked to the table, her posture straight, her hands clasped tightly before her. The words she was about to utter were monuntal, capable of being dismissed as madness.
She had rehearsed them countless tis in her mind, yet they still felt clumsy, inadequate. "Your Majesties," she began, her voice steady despite the tremor in her chest, "I have uncovered grave threats to Elysia. Threats far more insidious than any we have faced."
The King’s brow furrowed. "Threats? What manner of threats, Daughter? Our borders are secure, our alliances firm."
Viana took a deep breath. "Not threats that can be seen by the eye, Father. Not at first. For weeks now, unknown individuals have been secretly spreading a fine, almost invisible dust across our northern farming valleys, along the eastern riverbeds, and near the sources of our western tributaries."
She pulled out a fresh map, identical to the one in her study, and laid it on the table. With a precise finger, she marked the blighted areas.
"This substance, when the snow lts, will poison the soil. It will contaminate our spring lts. It will weaken the roots of every plant, leading to a blight that will starve our land. It is a slow poison, intended to cripple our kingdom from within."
The King leaned forward, his expression shifting from concern to skepticism. "Poison? Viana, what evidence do you have of such a claim? Our alchemists test the water regularly, our farrs are vigilant."
"There is no clear purpose?" the Queen murmured, her gaze fixed on the marked map, a flicker of unease in her eyes. "No flag, no banner of a known enemy?"
"None that can be seen, Mother. That is the nature of this attack." Viana t their gazes. "And this blight is only one part of a coordinated assault. Prince Arin, your Majesties, is preparing to march. His forces will exploit our weakened state, our suffering populace. The drought will serve as his greatest weapon, paving the way for his conquest."
Silence settled over the room, heavy and disbelieving. King Clive pushed back from the table slightly, his expression now one of profound weariness.
"Viana, this is a grave accusation. Prince Arin has been quiet for months. His scouts have not been detected near our borders. And a widespread poisoning... this sounds like the ravings of a madman, not the report of a princess."
His voice was gentle, paternal, but firm. It was the tone he used when he worried for her health, not when he received intelligence.
"I understand your skepticism, Father," Viana pressed, her voice gaining a desperate edge. "It is an unimaginable sche. But I know this to be true. I have already dispatched Joel and his rcenaries to investigate the substance, to find those responsible. And Reyes is discreetly preparing our army, bolstering our defenses, readying our forces for a swift reaction, without alarming the court or revealing our intelligence."
She paused, knowing this was the most difficult part. "This information did not co from mortal eyes. It ca from Eryndor."
The King’s eyes narrowed slightly. The Queen’s hand went to her mouth, a silent gasp. The na, whispered in the hallowed halls of power, evoked ancient tales, not current events.
"Eryndor?" King Clive repeated, his voice laced with caution. "The Elf? But he is a recluse, a guardian of the ancient woods. He does not ddle in the affairs of n."
"He sought out," Viana stated, unwavering. "He confird the blight. He spoke of the poison and its effects. And he spoke of Arin’s movents."
She took another breath, forcing herself to articulate the crucial point. "Elves, your Majesties, cannot lie. It is their nature. Their very essence forbids it. If Eryndor spoke it, it is truth."
The King and Queen exchanged a long, troubled look. The notion of an Elf, especially _the_ Eryndor, ddling in their court was almost as unsettling as the prophecy of doom itself.
Elves were known for their ancient wisdom and their inability to utter falsehoods, but also for their profound detachnt from human affairs. That he would seek out their daughter with such dire news was an unprecedented event.
Their faces remained etched with a weariness that went beyond simple fatigue. It was the weariness of confronted belief, of a world suddenly made more complex than they had imagined.
"Viana," the King said slowly, his voice laced with the heavy weight of his doubts, "we trust your judgnt, and your dedication to Elysia is unquestionable. But this... this is beyond what we can imdiately grasp. An Elf speaking of unseen poisons, and an invisible invasion before any blade is drawn."
He sighed, running a hand over his tired face. "Continue with Joel’s investigation. If he brings back tangible evidence of this... substance, then we will summon the royal alchemists. They are the foremost experts in the kingdom. They can analyze this dust, confirm its properties, and perhaps, find a counter-agent. Until then, Reyes’s preparations must remain as you ordered: covert. We cannot risk alarming the populace or our neighboring kingdoms on re... prophecy. Even from an Elf."
The Queen nodded in agreent, her gaze still fixed on the marked map. "We must have proof, Viana. Concrete evidence. This is too grave a matter to act on without it."
Her voice was soft, but carried the sa underlying skepticism as the King’s.
Viana’s shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. She had poured out the entirety of her burden, offered them the only proof she had—the word of an Elf—and they had responded with caution, with a request for physical evidence she herself was desperately waiting for.
She understood their position, their need for tangible proof, but the ti for such deliberation felt like a luxury Elysia could not afford. The kingdom was a ticking clock.
And she was still, fundantally, alone in the full scope of her knowledge. The silence from Joel’s mission now held the weight of not just her own peace, but the very credibility of her dire warnings.
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