Son of Ereubus by J. S. Chancellor

eyes glazed over as murmurs and whispers floated through the room, filling the uncomfortable silence for several moments. “Are there any among us who are not accounted for?”
    Jenner’s question would normally have irritated him, but on this night, in combination with the Adorians laid to rest at the Torradh just days earlier, it infuriated him.
    “Are you suggesting that one of them would betray me, lead an Ereubinian in, then leave her to defend herself, alone in the dark, in a realm she has never seen?” This had been a constant source of dissension for the council, leaving Michael pained as to how best to protect Adoria and yet maintain peace among the various provinces. “Do you believe Eidolon’s dark grasp to have traveled so far as to corrupt one of our own? You would believe this before you would believe that they had found a way past the divide? Insanity does not begin to — ”
    Jenner cut him off. “My Lord, please, I meant no slight to you. This just seems to make little sense.”
    “Truly, it does not make sense for them to send in a seemingly innocent girl, one whom we would have little wish to harm. Do you not see the logic in this?” He pulled the sword from a sheath at his back and held it aloft for the council to see. “This sword was near her when she fell, she could not have come alone. Sending forces to reinforce the borders will not be enough. You know my sentiments on this.” Frustrated, Michael sat down against the large stone that served as the centerpiece of the room. Sighing, he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and stretched out his wings.
    “You cannot lose your faith in the divide, my Lord.” Jenner gave Michael a tight-lipped smile, but the attempt at placating him failed.
    “This is what the council wishes, for us to sit back and let them destroy all that is left of our world? Or is there another option that you are failing to tell me?”
    Jenner frowned at Michael’s tone. “We have many ways of defending ourselves, the least of which is militarily. We will re-read the writings of the ancient ones, as tradition urges us to do in such dark times as these.”
    Michael opened his mouth to respond when the heavy door to the sanctum opened and a young servant girl with the robes of a Bedowyn peered in at them.
    “The healer wishes to tell you that the girl is in need of rest but will recover. She is awake, if you wish to speak with her.” Michael glanced at Jenner, who nodded and rose to join him.
    “We will return and gather again at first light,” Jenner said to the remaining twenty-three elders as he joined Michael, who was already standing in the doorway.
    The two men walked briskly through the hallway, neither of them speaking. They descended the stairs and entered the small room where Michael had left the girl. She was sitting up in bed, her face just as pale as before, but her cuts had been tended and she wore clean clothing. The broken-off shaft and arrowhead lay on the table beside her, blood still covering its surface. Michael winced at the sight and felt a twinge of remorse over wounding her, but as his suspicion of her lineage returned, his regret faded.
    Jenner approached the girl first. She looked to be not much older than twenty-one, twenty-two at the most. At average height, Jenner was not as tall or overpowering as Michael. He knelt down and rested a hand beside her. “I can see that you are weary,” he said and turned toward the healer. “Have you given her something for the pain?” The old woman nodded. Jenner rose to sit on the edge of the bed. The girl’s eyes were glassy and she was having trouble keeping them open. “Where are you from, child?” he asked.
    “Palingard.” Her voice was hoarse and ragged from exhaustion, a sound Michael knew well.
    Jenner seemed to believe her despite what the healer had said, but Michael’s gut told him that her appearance in Adoria meant something grave indeed. “Then you are human? What name have you been