Shera didn’t slow as he guided me deeper into the hall. The flow of conversation bent subtly around him, not stopping, but adjusting all the same. Though I did not miss any of it. My ears were hearing all that was being said. But everyone was civilised and tight lipped.
He stopped beside a pair of Ferans standing together near one of the inner pillars.
They were nothing alike.
One was broad and thick-limbed, his body carrying the dense, grounded presence of the bull tribes. His horns curved outward and forward, polished but scarred, and the pressure around him was heavy rather than sharp. The other stood slightly behind him, leaner, feathers lining his arms and shoulders, avian features blended into a mostly humanoid frame. His eyes were keen, constantly moving, missing nothing.
"General Korvath of the Stonehorns," Shera said first, gesturing to the bull-tribe Feran. "And General Sareth of the Skyrock."
Korvath inclined his head once. "Billion Ironhart," he said, voice low and resonant. "We’ve heard reports. Closing a grade four rift with demon support is... not a small achievement."
"Nor a common one," Sareth added, his tone lighter but no less precise. "And certainly not by someone who looks like he should still be deciding what kind of blade to carry."
I met their gazes evenly. "I settled that question early."
That earned a faint huff of amusement from Korvath and a sharper smile from Sareth.
"It was a surprise to hear that an organization like yours even existed," Sareth said thoughtfully. "Completely hidden from all races. It’s as if you appeared out of nowhere."
Korvath’s gaze stayed on me as he added, "There are also rumors that you had help from the Nagas."
I chuckled softly. "Rumors are just that," I said. "I haven’t made any deals with the Nagas."
I paused, then allowed a faint smile to form.
"Yet."
Before Korvath could add anything more Shera led me onward.
The next general stood alone.
Another tiger-tribe Feran, but where Shera carried ease and Varka carried age, this one carried sharpness. His fur was darker, striped with deep charcoal, his posture upright and alert. The name Shera spoke confirmed the impression.
"General Kael Sharka," he said. "Commander of rapid response forces."
Sharka’s eyes narrowed slightly as they met mine. "You’re younger than I expected," he said bluntly.
"I hear that often," I replied.
"Hm." His gaze flicked briefly past me, toward the rest of my group, then returned. "Strength like yours tends to leave scars. Or arrogance."
"And if it leaves neither?" I asked.
Sharka’s mouth curved, not quite a smile. "Then it leaves questions."
I studied the general more closely. He was from Anjee’s tribe. The Sharka were another branch of the tiger tribes. They had long been kept under control, their influence deliberately limited by the Ranthors.
I had many questions.
Shera moved us along before any of them could be asked.
We stopped next before an Elemental who stood apart from the Ferans without seeming isolated. He looked human at first glance, tall and slender, skin so pale it bordered on translucent. Ice flickered across his shoulders and forearms in slow, quiet patterns, and his hair fell in pale blue strands.
"Arch Elementalist Eryndor," Shera said. "Ice alignment."
Eryndor studied me with calm intensity. "It is an honour to meet you," he said. "I see that you have an elemental in your group. I am happy to see that."
I nodded slightly. "Nice to meet you as well. Her name is Aurora. She is strong."
A corner of his mouth lifted. "She appears strong. If you have time, come visit me. I am staying in the same place as you."
I nodded. "Sure I will."
Next came the Aqua.
She stood near a shallow pool that reflected the hall’s light, her lower body trailing into a fluid, shifting form that never quite settled.
"Lady Thalassa of the Deep Current," Shera said.
Her eyes lingered on me, curious rather than wary. "It’s rare for outsiders to step so freely into Feradros," she said. "Rarer still for them to leave an impression before they arrive."
"Impressions tend to follow action," I replied.
She smiled faintly. "Then we’ll be watching your actions closely from the past. And the future once as well."
By the time Shera finished the introductions, the weight of attention had grown noticeable.
That was when I noticed movement near my group.
Two Griffins had broken away from the cluster near the far end of the hall. They moved with unhurried confidence, wings folded neatly, golden eyes fixed not on me but on Lyrate.
They stopped in front of her without preamble.
One of them inclined his head. "You’re an elf," he said, tone polite but unmistakably curious. "How did you arrive in the Blue Spiral Galaxy?"
Lyrate smiled, warm and utterly unbothered. "I like to travel."
The second Griffin’s gaze sharpened. "Across galaxies?"
"When the mood strikes."
There was a pause. Then the first spoke again. "Our family maintains residences suited for guests of... uncommon origin. If you wish to stay under Griffin hospitality—"
"No," Lyrate said lightly.
The refusal landed cleanly, without apology.
The Griffin blinked once, then recovered. "You don’t even know what we’re offering."
"I know enough," she replied. "And I’m already where I want to be."
Something like amusement flickered in the Griffin’s eyes. He inclined his head again.
"Very well."
They withdrew without tension, returning to their kin as smoothly as they had arrived.
I rejoined my group a moment later. North leaned slightly toward me. "They were polite," she said.
"That’s how you know they’re dangerous," Steve muttered.
Before anything else could unfold, a subtle shift rippled through the hall.
One of the Griffins stepped forward.
He was taller than the rest, his presence heavier without being oppressive. When he cleared his throat, the sound carried. Conversations faded. Music softened. Attention converged.
"Honored guests," he said, voice resonant. "Thank you for attending."
He gestured slightly, and the younger Griffin beside him stepped into view.
"This evening marks the coming year of our young master, Caelum."
A ripple of acknowledgment moved through the hall.
"But celebrations are more meaningful when shared with accomplishment," the elder continued. "Today, we also recognize those who acted decisively against the rift threat."
His gaze shifted.
"With the help from us and our young master," he said, "the Order of Absolute contributed to the closure of a Grade Four rift."
The hall stirred.
Eyes turned.
Calculations adjusted.
The Griffin inclined his head toward me once. "For that, you have our thanks."