Cloud rubbed her temples, trying to overlook the constant bickering between the Four Sectors.

"Advocates, please. Settle down." Cloud announced calmly, completely being ignored in favour of bickering.

They were supposed to be a dignified group of adults supporting their charges: the next in line for the position of Elfidari. Yet here they were yelling across the table like tantruming sprites on their first flight without an adult.

A loud slam of metal against stone echoed against the meeting room, stunning them into silence. 

"The Elfari has commanded you to be silent so shut your trap!"

Cloud sighed, trying not to laugh at both her aunt's standing at the door, spears drawn. They were her personal guards dressed in the green and silver armour of the sylph.

"Thank you for that, Thornguard Glorianna. Thornguard Adrisa."

The stifled laughter from the other Advocates lightened the mood enough to quell the fighting to a minimum. Aunt Gloria blushed, averting her gaze as Adrisa helped focus on her duties with a little more coaxing. Glorianna and Adrisa were very different but worked well together.

Her father had assigned them to her when she was young but nowadays she was the one who reigned them in rather than the opposite. Glorianna was timid but could lose her temper quite easily when it came to things she cared about. Adrisa on the other hand was always getting into trouble but was very patient with others. But not when it came to silencing a room.

"What happened in the Undergrowth was a tragedy that many of us will never heal from. But after ten long years the colony of Trollians has decided to migrate there during the Solstice. You have my word that we will protect them."

The wounds the Great Purge had left were still fresh to all four clans of the Collective. Not only had their numbers been dwindling but many had lost entire families to just a single barrage of arrows. It had taken a lot of negotiations and rebuilding to get the clans to this point. But that didn't mean the Four Sectors all agreed.

"When has that ever meant anything, Cloudless? Far as I can tell you're not even fit to claim the Elfari name!"

The bickering had quietened into a solemn hush of whispers, the group now glaring at the young Advocate who had called this meeting but had arrived late of her own accord. The pyriths.

Cloud fought the urge to groan, smiling thinly as her fellow Advocate entered the room, casting her aunt aside with a flick of her hand. She stood a little taller than the willowy sylph, her horns and wings alight with the flame all pyriths conjured to protect themselves. But anyone present would have realised that this was a sign of war.

"Tirithia. How wonderful to see you. Please, sit." Cloud said, using the familiar pyrith greeting to invite a fellow noble to the Collective's table.

The pyrith Advocate sniffed at the sylph as if she was below her station, despite being on equal footing with their heritage. Tirithia ignored Cloud's gesture and instead lounged at the head of the table, the intricately carved out wood fading to ash as she set her wings into the open back of the chair.

"Don't think your neutral stance will work on me, Elfari. You and I both know those murderers deserve what they get. We deserve that, at least."

Ever since the Great Purge, every member, be it sylph or pyrith, had argued their point to fight against the Traited, remain hidden within the Collective, move elsewhere or even part ways entirely. Tirithia had chosen the former, hell bent on making those giants pay for taking her eldest brother away from them. Cloud had tried to be like her father but what the Traited had taken from her was too much to bear.

"I agree, Tirthia." 

Cloud could hear the audible shock in her fellow kinsmen's voices but she simply rested her hands against the hewn out table. Running her hands against the grain she waited to explain her point despite the crowd's insistence that she had already chosen a side.

"I cannot deny that revenge hasn't crossed my mind countless times since that night. They are murderers and probably do deserve what you are suggesting and more."

"So we should fight-"

Cloud shook her head, ignoring the pyrith's insistence to put so much risk just after her clan had gotten back to where they were. Any leader would've unleashed their Folka in outrage but the fact there was not even a trace of wind shocked Tirithia even more. She was not just any leader.

"I was there the night my mother Aura died. I saw her use the last breath of her Folka, not to take revenge as I would have done but to get us to safety. My father, Venta sacrificed his wings not his bow for the very same purpose. To keep us safe."

Tirithia gave her a derisive snort, as if her words were simply common knowledge instead of the catalyst for her grief. 

"We already know the stories your father left us. We are far more prepared than he was."

The pyriths roared in support, their flaring wings causing shadows to flicker against the ivy as they pounded their weapons for the promise of war. Cloud couldn't help but shrink away, the blazing red overwhelming the soft green furnishings of the meeting room. 

"They may only be stories to you but I will never forget how my clansmen fell." Cloud reminded them, her voice travelling to all corners of the divided room.

The pyriths chant became a hiss of disapproval from the sylphs, the insult towards Cloud's father now becoming the main focus as if they had forgotten why they were here. The Undergrowth had fallen and Tirithia wanted to burn it to the ground in favour of vengeance.

"My brother's death was no mere Folka's tale, Cloudless." Tirthia said, her sharp tone a warning to the Elfari.

"Neither was my mother's, Tirthia. Yet they died all the same."

Tirthia jolted backwards, visibly hurt by Cloud's words but her anger and grief was mirrored by the very sylph in front of her. The hisses of disgust had turned into a quiet, uncomfortable silence that not even the rage of a pyrith wanted to disturb. It was a moment to mourn the previous Elfidari.

"If we go to war as you say, the Elfidari will be responsible for every last man, woman and child. Regardless of whether it's a sylph, pyrith, dryad or nymph who is picked. We are all next in line and we are all held accountable for our clan's actions." Cloud continued, daring to break the silence.

Her posture was reserved, wings tucked away as a sign of equality as she tried to remain calm and composed. It was important to remind them of the weight of her position: sylphs held the majority thanks to her mother's reign but once the seasons changed the Collective could vouch for their own Advocate. Discussion was inevitable but no one could claim majority over the Four Sectors without the approval from the spirits themselves.

"But it isn't your choice to make anymore, Cloudless. The sylph have had their reign. Your cycle ends with Bitrfyre and it is time for a new leader."

"Which you cannot claim to be Elfidari through Folka alone, Tirithia. All this talk of bloodshed won't unite us. It drives us apart, don't you see? It is what the Traited want." Cloud insisted, her impatience getting the better of her.

"Don't assume you know how those monsters think, Cloudless. Unless it is why you refuse to use your Folka out of guilt for betraying your people?" Tirthia shot back savagely, inciting a rumour only a few people knew of.

This time it was Cloud's turn to be silent, her abject humiliation being voiced by the outrage of her people and the jeers of her adversaries. Tears pricked at her eyes, the memory of her Folka being unable to save the one closest to her. It was what had once branded her as Elfari now forced to undergo the suspicions of being a traitor. A traitor without a Folka.

"Considering you and I were both fresh out of the nest at that point I highly doubt that." She retorted, throwing her eyes up as if the comment was nothing more than conjecture.

Cloud's false bravado clung to her chest as she forced herself to raise her head high, her wings parting in a flash of light that mimicked the very pyriths who stood against her. Exhaling, her breath was shaking with anger and frustration but just as her mother had done she remained strong in her facade. 

"You would've made a good pyrith in another life. There's no denying your conviction comes from your mother." Tirthia said, laughing at the dry comment from the sylph. "But your lack of Folka will be your undoing, Elfari Cloud."

The hollow ache in Cloud's heart continued but just like her Folka she hid it away and focused on the hazy memories she had of that night. The Elfidari was the one who led the way and she would not abandon anyone. She might have held the title of Elfari in name only but her people had the right to take it from her if they saw her unfit. The Elfari was chosen as long as the spirits claimed her as such.

"Perhaps. But it is not the strength of one's Folka that makes an Elfidari. The Trollians are the ones who decide who inherits. No one else."

Tirithia stared at Cloud for several seconds, the sylph clinging to the arm rest for support in preparation for several hours of arguing. But the pyrith simply inclined her head in a show of respect and stood up with a sylph gesture. Her wings were tucked inwards for the first time.

"Very well, Elfari. The Solstice awaits. We will see who gains the position of Elfidari."

Cloud returned the gesture wordlessly, trying to comprehend her own shock towards Tirthia's visible annoyance but eventual acceptance. But the only thing that rang in her head had been the same conclusion she had come up with ten years ago when all of this started. When the Undergrowth fell and she had to take up her parents position as acting leader instead.

The Traited didn't care about Folka or flight. They only cared about slaughtering them all.