Malakai had to fight the urge to sit down and train on the spot. Still, he kept his pace steady.
Once he reached the tree, he felt overwhelmed. No matter where he looked, right, left, even upward, he couldn't see the end.
The guards didn't stop him as he approached the entrance. And as he stepped into the darkened path between them… the world inside lit up.
Malakai found himself standing before what could be better described as a Sanctum. A vast chamber carved into the heart of the massive tree.
Unlike the smaller homes woven from bark and branches, this space was alive with an overwhelming sense of nature.
Intertwined roots coiled along the floor and walls, like ancient limbs frozen mid movement. Giant leaves hung from the ceiling like chandeliers, glowing faintly.
The walls themselves throbbed with soft pulses of Vita, and the scent of moss and bark filled the air.
Malakai had been here just that morning, but his mind had been too distracted to notice the grandeur.
Now, standing in the space with clear eyes, it felt almost like a forgotten temple, ancient and sacred.
His gaze soon landed on the Grath'Mekhai. She was seated on her throne, antlers stretched high, nearly brushing the ceiling. Her presence was serene, yet heavy. She looked every bit the sage her title implied.
Her voice snapped Malakai from his trance. He blinked, realizing he hadn't moved a step from the entrance. Shaking his head, he listened and walked forward.
He was glad she was alone. No elders. No passive aggressive looks. No posturing. Just her.
Silence stretched across the hall as he stopped a few meters away. Their eyes locked. Malakai felt as though he were staring into the gaze of a timeless beast. But he didn't flinch nor did he look away.
He wasn't entirely sure what moved her, or what she was trying to see. Still, he had already decided, he'd use the same approach he used on the Sovereign. To get what he wanted, he needed to leave an impression.
"Impressive," the Grath'Mekhai said at last, her voice deep and gravelly. "You held my gaze that long without flinching."
"It's just eyes," Malakai said after a moment.
There was a pause. Then she laughed, a slow, rumbling sound that echoed through the roots.
"'It's just eyes,'" she repeated with a small smile. "People three times your age have failed to manage the same. It's not just eyes, child. It's you." Her gaze narrowed slightly.
"I see it in your stare. You've lived through things no child should have to endure. Tell me, what have you gone through?"
"Enough." Malakai's expression didn't change. He knew how he carried himself. His eyes didn't have the softness or innocence of someone fourteen.
"Enough," the Grath'Mekhai echoed, her voice lower now. She smiled faintly. "That sounds right."
She paused, then met his gaze again. Her next words came heavier.
"So, what brought you here?"
It was true. He had only come because she had summoned him. But the Grath'Mekhai wasn't smiling.
"What brought you here?" she asked again.
This time, Malakai felt the weight in her voice. He understood. She wasn't asking about this room.
She meant why he was here, why he had followed Grunde that night, why he hadn't resisted being captured, why he had chosen to stay.
It was one question with a dozen meanings. But Malakai found the one answer that fit them all.
The Grath'Mekhai studied him.
"How far will you go to achieve your goal?"
"As far as necessary."
She frowned. "Even if your actions put innocent lives at risk?"
"My actions are mine alone," Malakai began. "They'll always be aimed at my goal. If others get caught in the crossfire, it's because they chose to stand in the way."
The frown on her face faded. She nodded.
"Tell me, what do you think of the Gor'Mekhai? Of this coven?"
Malakai paused, choosing his words carefully. "You're… simple. Primal. You value tradition and honor. You respect each other. You're a peaceful people."
"Do you think your people know that?" she asked.
Malakai shook his head. Now, he was beginning to understand the real reason for this conversation.
"Even if they do, it wouldn't matter."
The Grath'Mekhai went quiet. A heavy silence hung in the space.
"If war were to break out between our people," her voice finally returned, low and weighted, "do we stand a chance?"
"No," Malakai said without hesitation. But after a moment, he added,
"Your people are strong, especially compared to others of your level. But in this case, you're outmatched. Outnumbered. Outgunned. There are weapons that can level this entire forest in one strike. Weapons that can neutralize your strongest warrior without ever stepping onto the battlefield."
He didn't know why he was saying all of this. The Gor'Mekhai weren't his concern. But even as he realized it, he didn't stop.
"Your best chance would be to take what you can… and run."
The pressure that swelled from the Grath'Mekhai in that moment was suffocating. Her eyes were like twin blades, carved from the earth itself.
"We Gor'Mekhai will never abandon our home."
A flare of unexplainable anger sparked in Malakai's chest, but his voice remained calm.
"Pride," he said. "You'll risk thousands of lives… for something so useless."
"Our home is not useless," the Grath'Mekhai thundered, her voice booming through the chamber. "This forest gave us life. Gave us freedom. It gave us purpose. No matter the threat, we will not abandon it."
Malakai held his tongue. He could see it in her eyes, they were unyielding and absolute.
There was no convincing her.
"Thank you for answering truthfully, Malakai," she finally said. "As a reward, I'll allow you to participate in the Kor'Vekkah. If you have no further questions… you may leave."
Malakai stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. Eventually, he gave a small nod and turned to go.
As he left the chamber, the Grath'Mekhai released a deep sigh and shook her head.