Six figures sat around the circular table. Most wore formal coats marked with the crests of their isles—stitched symbols of power and position, worn like quiet armor.
One of them leaned forward and pressed a small button embedded in the tabletop. The lightglass screen behind him flickered to life with a soft hum.
"I hope you've all seen this by now," said Marethe Solenne, the council's spokesperson. He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb toward the screen behind him.
"I was informed by the intelligence team the night it happened," Viala Merin added, adjusting the thin lenses resting on the bridge of her nose.
"I'll go straight to the point," Marethe said. "Was it any of you?"
"I am," said Elarion Dresk.
Ilvryn Nareen, seated with arms crossed, let out a sharp breath through her nose—half amusement, half contempt. "If you hadn't admitted it, I was just about to say the same."
"Why did you take such a drastic step without informing the council?" Marethe asked, his tone sharpening.
Elarion reached beside his chair and picked up a dark attache case. He placed it on his lap, unlatched it, and pulled out a smooth, circular device. The case went back to the floor with a quiet thud. He set the device at the center of the table and pressed a button.
A recording began to play.
The recording played for several minutes. No one spoke as the audio echoed softly across the chamber—faint voices, scattered phrases, bits of quiet urgency. When it finally ended, silence returned like a weight.
Elarion Dresk leaned back slightly. "The first time rumors surfaced about Ardyn Cale syncing with his Aerolith on the first try, I was already watching him," he said. "So I planted a spy on the Windmere team. During the last Skytest, I had a strong feeling about Mirae Rinaka too—and I was right. What I didn't expect was Elari Duskmere. The three of them are learning about the Breathers."
"But why go that far?" Brannic Quorr asked. His voice was even, but edged with disapproval. "We could have had them arrested."
"Didn't you hear the recording?" Elarion snapped. "They're digging into the Breathers. For all we know, they are Breathers."
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "They'll be looking for Neron Dunnivar."
"Isn't he the Cirran imprisoned decades ago?" Caldus Vasker asked, brow lifting slightly.
"Yes," Elarion said. "If those three are all potential Breathers, and Neron is as well, that makes them four. The Four Breathers. The Sky Isles of Liorathe is in peril if they calm the winds below."
Ilvryn Nareen tapped his fingers on the table, smirking. "You still believe those old myths?"
"The Council has believed, and still does," Elarion said, voice rising, rough with frustration.
Ilvryn raised both hands in a lazy gesture of surrender. "Just saying."
"We know the High Council of Aerion still takes this seriously," Marethe interjected. "But they also won't condone assassination. And let's not forget, they're Cirrans, participating in a Skytest. You know how sacred that is to the High Council."
"But they must be stopped," Elarion said.
"Yes," Marethe replied. "But maybe not now."
"If they're searching for the old Cirran, he's in the far south," Viala said quietly. "It'll take them days—maybe a week—to reach him. And they don't even know who they're looking for yet."
"I agree," said Marethe. "Let the semifinals finish. If Windmere loses, Brannic can arrange their arrest afterward."
"And if they win?" Elarion said, voice low, tight with warning.
"Then we wait for the finals," Brannic answered. "Let's keep watch. Your spy will remain inside Windmere. We'll implant another within Cindralune's delegation."
Marethe glanced around the table. "All in favor of this course—raise your hands."
Five hands rose. Elarion's did not.
"Then this Council is adjourned," Marethe said.
* * *
The morning after the assassination attempt came quietly.
Inside the Aerohall's training room, the Windmere team sat in a loose circle on the floor. Their gear cases and bags were set aside, untouched.
Ardyn sat among them, stiff and bruised. A fresh patch lined his right forearm, covering scrapes from the stairwell.
"Captain Seris," Sedge said, leaning back on his hands, "you think Dravon's team has something to do with what happened to Ardyn?"
"I can't assume that," Seris replied, seated with the rest, his arms crossed.
"You think we're even a threat to them?" Kael added. "I don't. Doesn't feel like them."
"Then why?" Pimri said quietly, pulling his knees to his chest.
Mirae's eyes flicked sideways, just for a second, toward Ardyn. He met her gaze.
Ardyn hadn't told Mirae about the Whisperseed. Not yet. Something inside him held back.
He told himself he needed to tell her, if Kaenra was truly the assassin, Mirae could be in danger too. But another thought gnawed at the edge of his mind.
What if his instinct was wrong?
What if it wasn't Kaenra at all?
What if it was Mirae?
Mirae leaned over slightly, casting a quick glance toward the support team seated farther off.
"What if…" she said in a lowered voice, making sure only their circle could hear her, "it's someone from Windmere's own team?"
"No! Impossible," Sedge blurted, a bit too loud.
Mirae quickly motioned for him to lower his voice, her hand flicking toward him in a subtle hush.
"But why that notion?" Captain Seris asked, brow furrowing.
"Captain…" Pimri said quietly, leaning in as well, "she's… really good at reading people."
"Do you trust everyone on the team? Support staff, medics, engineers?" Mirae asked.
"Well…" Seris rubbed his fingers along his beard. "I know most of them. Some of them have been with Windmere longer than half the players here."
"So you trust them all?" Mirae asked.
"I think one of them's pretty new…" Captain Seris said, fingers brushing his beard. "The medic?"
"Kaenra?" Ava said, glancing back toward the support bench.
"Yes," Seris nodded. "She joined right after we beat Orriven. Sent by the Windmere council as additional support."
"Mirae joined recently too," Ardyn added, looking straight at her.
The words landed sharp.
A quiet shift went through the circle—eyes turning to Ardyn, surprised. Even Mirae, with her naturally sharp, narrow eyes, blinked in surprise. Her brows lifting slightly as she turned to Ardyn.
"Whoa," Pimri said. "Didn't expect that coming from you, man."
"Sorry…" Mirae crossed her arms, raising a single brow. "You're accusing me of trying to kill you, Splash Boy?"
A ripple of smirks passed through the circle.
"Honestly," she said, brushing a stray hair behind her ear, "if I wanted to kill you, Ardyn—I've had way too many chances."
Ardyn looked straight into Mirae's eyes, trying to read her.
But that had always been his problem—he never could. Not then, not now.
"You said it yourself," Mirae said, her voice steady. "You were on your way to our room. And Ava here can testify I was with her that night."
Ava nodded slowly, then squinted at Ardyn. "Wait... and why were you going to our room that night? Also—" her eyes dropped briefly to his boots, "—wearing Galegears?"
Ardyn hesitated. "I couldn't sleep. I just had this... feeling something was off. Like I needed to check on the two of you. I wasn't sure why. So I put the gear on. Just in case." He gave a weak shrug. "Didn't really expect to get jumped."
Mirae looked into Ardyn's eyes, as if trying to silently convey something—something only he was meant to catch. Then she turned to the rest of the team.
"For all we know," she said, "the assassin might have been aiming to kill me. Or Ava."
Ardyn opened his mouth to respond, but Roe spoke first.
"Just sharing my two cents…" Roe said from where he sat, having been quiet until now. "I've actually had a strange feeling about Kaenra."
He shifted, sitting up straighter. "Not accusing her. Just… something feels off when she's around."
"Let's cut this here," Captain Seris said firmly. "For now, let's all just be careful. No one goes off alone."
He stood, brushing his hands together. "And let's use what time we have left to train."
One by one, the team rose. Ardyn followed, though his thoughts were still tangled—puzzling through everything, piece by uncertain piece.