"She's right," Aeltharion said suddenly, voice grave. "There are rules, even in chaos. We must make the offer. If only to record the refusal."
Archwitch Valendra folded her hands. "And if he does refuse?"
"Then we know exactly where we stand," Lunethra said, stepping forward. "And we respond accordingly."
"We? You haven't been a part of us since a long time ago, Lunethra." A wizard sneered and Lunethra smiled.
"Then I will act accordingly."
"Thalos Draeven doesn't play by rules," one of the younger wizards muttered. "He makes his own."
A pause.
"We draft the message tonight," Celeste continued. "It must come from the Witch Queen herself. Formal, precise, sealed in old magic. One that carries weight not just of my power—but the power of the Council."
"And the girl?" another asked cautiously. "What if she's already dead?"
"She's not," Lunethra said with terrifying certainty. "I would know."
