Chapter 3: Summit of Destiny
Beyond the Nine Skies, Summit Hall. Streaks of light pierced the sky, ancient and immense power enveloping the heavens.
Summit Hall was mythic, perched atop a peak that rivaled Mount Rushmore or the Grand Canyon for sheer majesty. The air was thin, crisp, and charged with magic. Light streamed through stained-glass windows, casting rainbows on the polished marble floor. The guardians assembled, faces grave, knowing history was being written.
The atmosphere in the Council was heavy; even Old Walker, usually quick with a cowboy joke or a tip of his hat, now fidgeted with his Stetson, boots tapping anxiously on the floor.
On the grand throne, Elder Jasper slowly opened his eyes and spoke in a deep, resonant voice: “Is everyone present?”
Elder Jasper’s gaze swept the room. Silver hair framed his rugged, weathered face—he looked every bit the American elder, maybe with a bolo tie tucked beneath his robes. His presence commanded respect, and the guardians straightened in their leather chairs, steam rising from fresh coffee cups nearby.
“Except for the Three Wise Ones, who remain in isolation, all active guardians are here.”
Stepping forward, Sterling White saluted smartly, his gesture echoing military tradition.
Sterling’s salute was crisp, a gesture learned from years of service. The guardians nodded, faces a patchwork of determination and worry. The absence of the Wise Ones was noted, but their wisdom would have to wait.
How many ages had passed since the Council moved like this, gathering the Five Regents and all the guardians? Even during the cataclysm of the Age of Heroes, it was no more than this.
The last time the hall had been this full, the world teetered on the edge of destruction. Old stories hung in the air, whispered by the wind. The guardians remembered, and their resolve hardened.
“If so, let us discuss the matter of the unicorn—what happened?”
High Regent Jasper closed his eyes, speaking softly but with authority.
His words were gentle, but the weight behind them was immense. The guardians leaned forward, ready to recount the tragedy, to seek justice for the fallen unicorn.
At this, Sightseer and Wind Listener stepped forward together, their voices solemn but tinged with American idioms:
“The origin of this mess is that Western god-king Zeus lured the unicorn to the Rockies under the pretense of disaster relief. He planned to use Western divine status to strong-arm and detain the unicorn. The unicorn…”
Sightseer and Wind Listener spoke in tandem, sometimes interrupting each other—"Let me finish, Wind," "Sure, but this is important"—their voices weaving a tapestry of truth and sorrow. The council listened, silent and attentive, as the story unfolded. The fate of the East, and maybe the whole world, hung in the balance.