The situation was tense, and Denton felt a certain energy electrifying the whole room. He looked over to his sister, yes. She has felt it as well. Her feathery hair stood up, and she looked nervously, waiting for the Triumvirate to speak up. Denton glanced now over to them; both were currently remaining in a position of fierce inner conflict. He imagined an unheard discussion of 100 souls complentating what they just said, weighing every word spoken on golden scales. At last it finally was the true silver king who took the veil of silence ripping it apart with a reserved laugh, a deep yet friendly rumble of many people being visibly amused.
It has to be related to us being kobolds. Probably a shared amusement over two kobolds, who for once don't say silly things. Or they are taunting us, not believing our story. Speak up, my lords, please. Don't torture us with silence or laughter. Talk to us!
"To think that a splinter of Jack of all people managed such an astounding breakthrough. Surprising? Certainly not. But you have to work on your presentation skills a tiny bit more, young one. Nonetheless.", the silver naga scratched himself at his chin, "Your story has it all. We were able to follow your instructions; none sounded like a construct of fantasy. You even demonstrated to us your breakthrough. Very Impressive. But...you are part of Jack ... that's an issue. We can't ignore our traditions; your years will depend on him, who is not present. Difficult..."
The king has spoken, and Denton once more found himself getting opposed by the grave issue of his skin condition. Even the Triumvirate knows now of his flawless albinism scales, pure ivory. Will that gift support them in their decision? Or will it be the dealbreaker, with them not wanting to risk investing time in his cause being well aware that he won't beat the ritual. No kobold ever had...no kobold ever had...
Denton looked down, preparing a short speech, but it got ripped out of his thoughts by the true bronze queen, lowering her long neck to be just a bit closer to the ivory kobold. She spoke with a soft yet full voice, which consisted in its entirety of passion and gentle warmth:
"Our traditions are important, that is true, and we won't tolerate any alterations in them. Therefore we, the bronze queen of all times, vote for immediate support of your cause to make your lifework a reality. And that before you will have to prove yourself in the most honourable way. You two, kobolds of the family Peritl, have indeed convinced us of the truth behind your story. We hear everything in this body thanks to Lady Bisfourth having access to the useful magic of omnilingualism. We can hear lies. But you, you only speak the truth, both of you. We are pleased.", the frilled lizard raised her emerald and bronze hand, "We vote for yes. Support the Peritls with the funds necessary to found a school to teach their ways. To bring forth a fresh generation of skilful and revered healers. May you live your remaining life in a life worth living, a splinter of ivory. The same goes for you, lady Peritl. Show the world that your kin is not as what it is depicted by society. We are pleased."
Denton has never tasted such a taste in his maw. Partly a flaring up of immense pride and happiness, they did it! They will get the support and protection necessary to start a new life. But then that aftertaste ... foul, rotten; awful. Their constant talking about him being part of a lineage he never wanted to be part of is the mouldy cherry on top of a delicious cake. Them talking so nonchalantly about his inevitable downfall, should the ivory Jack ever fall, was disrespectful and insulting to him. Anger flared up in his eyes, only to get snuffed out by the gentle voice of Khôra inside his mindscape:
<I know how you feel, partner. I share your anger; they insult us ... think we could never emerge victorious out of that ritual Thilarie described. But think of Bianca, of Galen. If we start an argument now ... we might miss our only chance.>
Denton gritted his teeth, biting softly on his red tongue in frustration. He glanced over to his automaton friends and raised his brow in pleasant surprise. They were glaring at the Triumvirate. Reserved, yet angry. Thilarie was about to explode, preparing likely mentally a barrage of respectful insults to protect him but stood silent, granting him however a gentle smile noticing his glance. He exhaled and inhaled deeply, then answered in a noticeably deeper voice, emerging out of his gut:
"My sincerest gratitude for your decision, my lords. We won't disappoint your entrusted belief in our cause, and we will promise to teach our ways ... under one condition, however. We won't be able to train cleric-labicer pairings if the ivory Jack continues to reel in all clerics who even dare to use their powers for good. We will not share our knowledge without the assurance that our pupils won't end up as worn-out cannon fodder on the Warfield. I won't request a full rethinking of Jack's ways, as that will be impossible given his temper, but I seek protection for those who will be the foundation of a new age of medicine."
A taunting smirk planted itself on the albino's face. He won't challenge the decision of the Triumvirate to stick to their traditions, but he has the chance to prove himself worthy, to show defiance, pride and willpower:
"Also, I am disappointed in how you treat me already like a lost cause. I might be a kobold, and you might have as of now witnessed a single member of my kin in our rows. But hear my prideful words. I will not die on the ritualistic battlefield. If the ivory jack happens to die by any means, you can bet all your wealth and pride on me taking his seat. I don't plan on dying, I crave to let my country witness our cure. My compassion is to end this meaningless war once and for all and change the situation for the clerics of our country, allowing them to finally benefit us again not being crippled by fear. I heard in the slums so many stories from veterans of the war with Scorzosa. How they still don't know the true reason behind this war. How they got tossed aside by society. Only because they had crippling injuries, a sight that could lower the morale. I understand the reasoning behind that; we are at war. But still. They are victims of said war, whose true reason got lost in the many years of its ongoing. I will be the next ivory Jack, a warlord of peace, a doctor for the poor. I will not die! ... I am finished."
He looked around, witnessing the reactions of those who witnessed his outrage. His sister, the kobold butlers, as well as the freezers; all looked shocked. Did he just say that? He could read the sentence word for word on their faces; their eyes widened, maws gaping open. The freezers' ice bodies appeared half molten, they feared the consequences. But Bianca. His sister looked at him, and after the shock faded, she supported his words with a defiant look on her cute face. Then a peal of amused laughter split the shock. Both the true silver king as well as the true bronze queen were very amused by his words. The king's booming voice took over:
"Very good, just what I wanted to hear. You show great potential, oh splinter of Ivory Denton Peritl. We will follow your growth with interest. You have my vote as well! What excellent temper! Then it is decided, we will invest in you.", they brushed the silver hood of the naga, "We will look into granting you, Bianca, and your students' immunity from Gâteau's drafting program. You have our word."
The bronze lizard took over, and a soft voice illuminated the dark room:
"You mentioned living in the slums until now. That is unacceptable for minds as great as yours. We will grant you the funds necessary to live in Leaston. Speartip Thilarie?", the automaton stiffened up, "Please organize their movement. You will be in charge of their protection and help them move in."
Bianca rose and performed a deep bow to the Triumvirate. Tears were running down her cheeks. Their assuring her protection from the drafting program has hit her more than intended. She felt able to breathe for the first time in her life and freely, unhindered. She felt her repressed desire to heal the world flaring up, overwhelming her. She weeps softly, trying to keep a firm voice:
"Thank you for your generosity, my shining lords. We-we will not disappoint. We vow to put our abilities to good use. My healing paws will soothe the pain of our country. Our cancer research will benefit Nemthi, hear my words."
A collective nod of the Triumvirate and the many souls of the past holders of their title retreated, wandering as a glowing mass through the canals back into their respective statues. The meeting was over, and the presentation was a full success.
A toothy grin widened as a bit of beef jerky got torn to pieces by a human-like maw. Narxis, entertained by the video sent by his drone buddy, giggled and glared viciously at the screen:
"So you did it. You have given the cancer-treatment kobold siblings your blessing. Well ... your loss, 'Triumvirate'. That decision will be the final nail in the coffin of Nemthi."
He reached into the pockets of his assassin mantle, taking out a futuristic-looking phone. Sleek and elegant with a silver frame and pitch-black buttons. The hybrid typed in a number he thought he would never need on this operation. He needs a distraction, a big one, to confront the ivory jack. And these two kobolds being growing rivals to Etherium's cancer prevention methods could play into his hands. The higher-ups from the 'army of peace' have been longing for a long time already for a reason. A reason to cut loose and take revenge on Nemthi. To vent out the boiled-up rage.
Typing in the number of the current leader of the army, Marshal Ingratus Fide, a dark expression widened on the six-armed silent shadow:
"We wanted to give you peace. Solve your war issues with Scorcosa. The radiant's plans were beneficial for you; we had emissaries in both countries. We could have been the negotiator to elevate Nemthi back to its old might. But you betrayed us, tried to take the piece we offered you and killed our leaders. Well, I hope you will like the delayed echo. You are playing with fire and lost. And this will determine how fierce the burn will be. But will you ever recover?"
The phone rang and rang until it finally got picked up by the man Narxis desired to speak to. The demihuman's azure eyes flared up with malicious intent as he pulled his hat deeper into his face speaking slowly:
"I have crucial intel you will be interested in. Our interests cross paths once more, partner."
