Caged Nightingale
"A Song Weaver?" Damon's voice was a low rumble, his eyes fixed on Elara. "What does that even mean?"
Elara's fingers trembled on the harp strings. "It means... my voice has power," she whispered, glancing at the shadowy figures gathered in the hall.
"Power Valerius controls," Kael growled, his gaze narrowed on the looming sorcerer. "Like a puppet on a string."
"He uses her to keep the peace," Rhys purred, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Or what passes for peace in Aethelgard."
"But the peace is breaking," Orion murmured, his eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. "And her voice it's the key."
"Key to what?" Elara asked, her voice barely audible.
"To everything," Damon said, his eyes darkening. "To the power Valerius hoards, to the secrets he hides."
"To our freedom," Kael added, his gaze intense. "If you dare to take it."
"Dare?" Elara echoed, her heart pounding.
"He keeps you caged, little songbird," Rhys whispered, stepping closer. "But your voice it yearns to be free."
"And when it is," Orion murmured, a hint of promise in his tone, "Aethelgard will tremble."