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Chapter 11 - The man of truth, Eldred.

In the hushed twilight, the Obsidian Palace library pulsed with the ghosts of forgotten knowledge. Dust motes danced in the pale moonlight filtering through stained glass windows, illuminating shelves laden with ancient scrolls and leather-bound tomes. Here, amidst the whispers of history, strode Eldred, a scholar with eyes like pools of ancient wisdom and a beard that flowed like a silver river.

Eldred, a close confidante of the late King, had returned from a years-long pilgrimage to distant lands, only to find the kingdom shrouded in the pall of Queen sefa's ambition. He sought solace in the familiar embrace of the library, hoping to find answers in the whispers of the past.

But fate, a trickster with an ironic grin, had other plans. Queen sefa, her obsidian eyes glinting with an unsettling eagerness, summoned Eldred to her opulent chamber. The air there, thick with incense and unspoken tension, seemed to crackle with the Queen's barely contained impatience.

"Eldred," she purred, her voice dripping with honeyed venom, "a wise scholar such as yourself must surely discern the winds of change. Prince Jonah, a fragile rose unsuitable for the harsh crown, shall soon step aside. It is Prince Jonah, my eldest, who possesses the strength and cunning to lead our kingdom into a glorious new era."

She gestured towards Jonah, a pale figure draped in silks, who stood stiffly beside her. His eyes, cold and calculating, held not a flicker of warmth, only the glint of unchecked ambition. Eldred, his gaze piercing through the layers of courtly charade, saw not a future king, but a viper poised to strike.

The Queen's request, sharp as a poisoned blade, hung heavy in the air. Her ambition, insatiable as a hydra, sought Eldred's endorsement, the weight of his wisdom to legitimize Jonah's ascension. But Eldred, a scholar with a spine forged from truth, wouldn't be swayed by courtly machinations.

"Your Majesty," he began, his voice a rumbling torrent that echoed through the chamber, "a kingdom thrives not on the fangs of a viper, but on the beating heart of justice. Prince Jonah, though sharp of intellect, lacks the warmth, the empathy, to hold the crown steady in the storm that brews."

Sefa's smile, brittle as spun glass, faltered. Her eyes, obsidian chips glinting with suppressed fury, narrowed at Eldred. "And who are you, a mere scholar, to question the Queen's chosen heir?"

Eldred straightened, his weathered face etched with quiet defiance. "I am a voice, Your Majesty," he boomed, "a voice for the whispers of the people, a voice for the spirit of the late King who entrusted me with the truth. And the truth, I say, is that Prince Jonah lol's reign would be a winter's blight upon this kingdom."

The chamber, a l rage, a smoldering ember, threatened to erupt. Jonah, his facade cracking, revealed a serpent's core twisting with venomous displeasure. Eldred, a lone oak amidst a poisonous garden, stood defiant, his voice a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.

In the opulent chamber, tension coiled like a venomous serpent. Queen sefa, her obsidian eyes narrowed to glittering slivers, glared at Eldred. His refusal, a boulder of truth dropped into the well of her ambition, echoed in the oppressive silence. The air, thick with incense and unspoken threats, crackled with the Queen's barely contained fury.

"You dare defy me, Eldred?" she hissed, her voice a viper's whisper laced with venom. "Do you not see the glory Prince Jian's reign will bring? Do you not understand the consequences of choosing the wrong side its heart, Prince Jonah, not a glorious king, but a serpent waiting to strike."

His words, echoing the whispers of the people, hung heavy in the air, a challenge to the Queen's gilded cage of lies. Sefa's smile, brittle as spun glass, shattered. Rage, a smoldering ember, flared in her eyes, its heat licking at the edges of the chamber.

But before she could unleash her fury, her son, Prince Jonah, stepped forward, his pale face contorted with a venomous sneer. "Fool," he spat, his voice dripping with the chill of a winter's wind. "Do you not understand the game you play? Loyalty misplaced is a swift road to oblivion."

He gestured towards a pair of obsidian-clad guards flanking the door, their blades glinting in the dim candlelight. The unspoken threat, sharp as a viper's fang, hung heavy in the air. Eldred, though his heart hammered against his ribs, stood his ground.

"Oblivion might beckon," he retorted, his voice unwavering, "but I choose death with honor over a life bought with silence. The whispers of the people, Your Highness, cannot be silenced by your blade."

The gilded chamber resonated with a chilling silence, broken only by the frantic dance of candlelight on the obsidian walls. Queen I you, her face a mask of volcanic fury, glared at Eldred, whose defiance stood tall like an oak against a viper's hiss. His words, sharp as poisoned blades, hung in the air, a challenge to her crown, a torch illuminating the cracks in her gilded cage of lies.

Prince Jonah, a viper in pale silks, squirmed beside her, his eyes venomous and his words a whispered threat. But it was Eldred's unflinching gaze, clear as a mountain stream, that truly ignited the inferno of Sefa's rage. Her obsidian eyes, glittering with the cold light of a predator who had been crossed, narrowed to predatory slits.

"Very well, Eldred," she hissed, her voice a viper's whisper laced with frost. "You choose oblivion. Let your so-called 'honor' warm your grave."

With a gesture, sharp as a viper's strike, she summoned her obsidian-clad guards. Two hulking figures materialized from the shadows, their armor glinting like death's embrace. Their blades, obsidian teeth waiting to rend the fabric of truth, hung heavy at their sides.

The air, thick with incense and unspoken finality, pressed down on Eldred. Yet, his chin remained high, his eyes unwavering. He knew the cost of his defiance, the icy embrace of the dungeon, the possibility of a silent blade in the dark. But the whispers of the people, a wind rising in the distance, echoed in his heart, urging him to stand tall.

"Take him," sefa spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Let his so-called wisdom rot in the shadows. And let his silence serve as a warning to all who dare question my will."

The guards, cold and emotionless as the blades they wielded, advanced on Eldred. The scent of steel filled the air, a metallic shadow of the storm to come.

But before they could reach him, a voice, clear and defiant, pierced the suffocating silence. Mei, the young maidservant, stepped forward, her eyes blazing with a fire brighter than the Queen's gilded opulence.

"Touch him," she cried, her voice ringing like a clarion call, "and face the wrath of the Hidden Village! Selda and Wool will not stand idly by while you silence the voice of truth!"

The chamber, a viper pit adorned in gold, held its breath. Sefa's eyes, obsidian chips glinting with murderous intent, locked onto Mei, a viper sizing up its prey. The guards, momentarily thrown off kilter, hesitated, their obsidian blades trembling ever so slightly.

The obsidian guards, jolted by Mei's defiance and the mention of selda and Wool, faltered for a heartbeat. But the Queen's icy gaze, sharp as an honed blade, snapped them back to their duty. With inhuman efficiency, they seized Eldred, his voice rising in protest as they dragged him towards the dungeon's shadowed maw.

The chamber thrummed with a pregnant silence, every heartbeat a drumbeat against the stillness. Mei, her small frame shaking with righteous fury, glared at , a lone spark defying the viper queen's venomous power. The air, thick with unspoken tension, cracked as the chamber doors burst open.

In strode selda, his golden eyes blazing with righteous anger, the Dragon's Sword humming its deadly lullaby in his hand. Beside him, Wool, scarred but resolute, his emerald eyes scanning the scene with predator's precision. Their arrival, a storm breaking at the palace gates, shattered the oppressive silence.

Wool's gaze instantly snagged on Eldred, the scholar's familiar figure dragged towards the shadows. Recognition flared in his eyes, tinged with surprise and outrage. "Eldred!" he boomed, his voice shaking the very foundations of the chamber. "Release him at once!"

The guards, their resolve flickering under Selda and Wool's combined fury, hesitated again. But Sefa, her obsidian eyes flashing with venomous defiance, roared, "Obey! Do you dare defy your Queen?"

The tension, stretched to its breaking point, snapped. Wool, in a blur of emerald and steel, shot forward. His blade, a whisper of death, sang through the air. The guard, caught off guard by the sudden attack, crumpled to the floor, his obsidian helm rolling away, revealing a lifeless face beneath.

A gasp escaped Mei's lips, her hand flying to her mouth. Selfa her face contorted in rage, snarled like a cornered viper. The other guard, his grip on Eldred loosening in shock, stumbled back, his obsidian blade trembling in his hand.

Selda, his golden eyes narrowed, stepped forward, the Dragon's Sword humming louder, a hungry beast yearning for release. The whispers, now a deafening roar, echoed through the chamber, filling the air with the promise of rebellion. The storm had arrived, and the Obsidian Palace trembled at its edge.