Chronicles of Legends

Volume 7 Chapter 10 - The Strongest

[NA/N: Sorry for the late update, had a lot on plate the past several days. Enjoy! Also, I may end up becoming the primary author for this fic, its still unconfirmed, but I'll continue using this account nonetheless.]

|Alistair|

Arthur's steady voice echoed through the Council as he unveiled the artifact—a scroll of ancient origin, adorned with intricate golden patterns that shimmered under the chamber's illuminating glow. The air thickened with anticipation, and the room fell into a hushed silence as his words reverberated through the hall.

"This scroll," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of his purpose, "possesses the power to revive a singular person to their prime."

As the significance of his proclamation settled upon the gathering, a palpable energy filled the air. The knowledge that this ancient relic held the potential to breathe life into a once-powerful soul stirred both hope and trepidation within the hearts of those present.

Breaking the pregnant silence, I found my voice, my words puncturing the air with a mix of determination and vulnerability. "We should revive my mother," I declared, my voice trembling slightly as I struggled to maintain composure amidst the maelstrom of emotions swirling within me.

Arthur's gaze met mine, and understanding flickered in his eyes. "I was thinking the same," he acknowledged, his voice brimming with a blend of conviction and reverence. "Your mother, Saphira, was the strongest Asura to ever grace our realm. Reviving her would grant us the most formidable ally we could hope for. Though I hold deep affection for Sylvia, Saphira's revival takes precedence."

Nods of agreement rippled through the Council, as if the collective consciousness of our united front had converged upon this crucial decision. We contemplated the options before us, knowing that we possessed the means to revive either Saphira or Sylvia, but only one choice would yield the pinnacle of strength required to turn the tide in our favor.

Lancelot, his eyes alight with curiosity, interjected with a thoughtful inquiry. "If we were to revive Saphira, will her injuries also be reverted?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern.

The memory of my mother's tragic fate surged forth, the wounds inflicted upon her by Cadell etched deeply within my heart. Her power had been diminished, her potential stifled by the burdens she bore. In her weakened state, she had fallen, her true prowess obscured.

Arthur's gaze softened, empathy and determination illuminating his eyes. "Yes," he affirmed, his voice carrying the unwavering assurance of one who possessed intimate knowledge of the artifact's capabilities. "When revived to her prime, Saphira's injuries will be healed. She will regain the strength that once defined her."

The collective unity solidified further, our shared resolve unyielding. It was clear that the consensus had been reached—the revival of my mother would be our course of action. Though the allure of reviving Sylvia tugged at our hearts, the magnitude of Saphira's power in her prime eclipsed all other considerations.

"What is required for the revival process?" I inquired, eager to understand the precise steps needed to bring my mother back to her prime.

Arthur's gaze met mine, his eyes narrowing in deep contemplation. "We need a part of her, preferably her blood," he responded, his voice tinged with both seriousness and a touch of uncertainty. "Given the unique fusion of your Asuran and elven heritage, it might be possible to extract the required component from your own blood. The distinct differences between the two bloodlines should allow for separation."

Nodding in understanding, I absorbed the gravity of his words. Extracting my own blood to revive my mother—it was a sacrifice I was willing to make, considering the intricate amalgamation of my lineage.