Gradually, the guests began to recover.
Some leaned against the towering shelves of dark wood that rose like trees in a forest.
Others stood in quiet clusters, speaking in hushed voices, whispering among their own kind, all unsure what came next.
The remnants of the Kalandir gathered swiftly. Even shaken, their discipline held.
Their robes were torn, their skin marked with soot and the dust, but they stood unharmed.
At their center was the Lord Chancellor.
"We need to act," he said, his voice calm, but tight. "Take stock of who's here, who isn't. Identify healers, mages, anyone who can be of use."
They nodded, though no one had a clear plan.
"There's no point pretending we're still in court," someone muttered.
"No," came the reply from the Arch-Mage. "We're not dead. And if we're not dead, we plan. But time is not on our side. If Qualtagh controls the teleportation crystals—"
"He doesn't," Vell said, striding past them, his cloak trailing smoke. "They were destroyed. All of them. The artifacts of destruction were powerful and uncontrollable enough to shatter them into pieces."
The Arch-Mage turned to him. "You're certain?"
"As certain as I need to be."
They considered that. "Then there's no way out for him. Not a quick one. Maybe… if the purple rider survived. But Qualtagh himself? He was never much of a mage. And teleportation without a crystal array is far beyond his reach."
Another asked, "What of the Kalandir left behind?"
The Arch-Mage glanced around the survivors. "Vellichor brought most of the mages with him. The others wouldn't be able to manage such a feat… and many would refuse Qualtagh's commands anyway."
"Even under threat of death?" the Chancellor asked.
"Especially then," the Arch-Mage said, solemn. "He is not their true sovereign."
"So he's trapped?"
"Yes," the Arch-Mage replied. "Without the crystals, Qualtagh is buried. The High Queen's tomb isn't just a valley, it's another realm. Getting out won't be easy."
"That gives us time," the Chancellor said. "But what about us?"
"You're hidden," Vell answered. "And safe, for now. Nothing can trace you here. Nothing can enter unless I allow it. This place is similar to the queen's tomb."
"That changes things."
A few non-elves edged closer to the conversation, concern cutting through lingering awe. "Can't he just… walk out? Or fly?"
The Arch-Mage shook their head. "It's not that kind of place. You don't walk out of the another realm. You don't fly through its air to reach another. You'd need to tear the realm open, and Qualtagh doesn't has that power."
Those words were met with silence—some with relief, others with unease.
The Chancellor straightened his spine. "Then we make use of the time we've been given."
"What now, then?" the Arch-Mage asked and turned to Vell. "You saved us, Dread Mage. But why? To what end?"
Vell's crimson eyes flared faintly.
"It doesn't really matter."