The light within Elysiar's High Hall was gentle—neither artificial nor purely natural. Subtle enchantments woven into the architecture allowed soft rays of sunlight to pierce through high latticework windows, casting patterns across the polished stone and glowing panels.
The central council chamber had only recently been completed—part of the planet's diplomatic readiness infrastructure. A wide, elliptical room, ringed with descending tiers of seats. At the very center stood a circular platform raised slightly above the floor, ringed with a translucent Force-dampening field. A gesture of caution. A signal of boundaries.
And today, it was occupied.
Vael Norr stood on one side of the platform, his Jedi robes gathered like a coiled mantle. Tolin Marek remained near the edge, arms folded, his exiled nature evident in his posture—wary, but not hostile. Sylva Reth, the crimson-robed Nightsister, remained perfectly still, her eyes half-lidded as though listening to something no one else could hear.
Across from them stood the council of Elysiar.
Adam, robed in simple black and silver, stood at the forefront. Beside him was Mara Jade—elegant, calm, but eyes sharp with scrutiny. Serin flanked the opposite end of the council tier, her stance casual yet prepared. Tywin Lannister observed from a seated position, expression unreadable, his presence grounding the room's political center.
And behind them, near the back wall, stood Knight Artorias.
His armor shimmered faintly under the ambient light—plates of polished silver and deep cobalt etched with runes. His greatsword remained sheathed across his back, yet his very presence pressed down on the chamber like the weight of a storm held in check. He said nothing. He didn't move.
But every Force-sensitive in the room felt him.
A presence like tempered steel.
"Welcome," Adam began, voice calm, but layered with purpose. "You've come from different places, drawn by something you didn't fully understand. That something is this world—and perhaps more than that, it's what this world represents."
None of the guests interrupted.
"We've created a sanctuary here," he continued. "Not one of weakness. Not one that tries to erase the galaxy's pain, but one that chooses to build beyond it."
Mara stepped forward.
"This isn't a Jedi enclave," she said. "Nor a Sith stronghold. It's a place that follows a different current of the Force—one of balance. We need to know why you've come. What you seek. And what you carry."
Her eyes settled first on Vael Norr.
The Kel Dor Jedi inclined his head. "I came in search of clarity. The Council didn't send me. But I sensed something I couldn't ignore. I do not come to challenge you."
"Then what do you come to do?" Tywin asked evenly.
"Listen," Vael said. "Learn. Perhaps… contribute."
Mara gave a small nod.
Next came Tolin Marek, whose eyes darted briefly to Artorias and then back.
"I've walked the edges of the Order," he said. "Fought, bled, been forgotten. I don't speak for anyone. I came because I thought this place might be real."
"And now?" Adam asked.
Tolin looked slowly around the chamber, then back to Artorias.
"I think I'm not sure I'm ready for what's real."
A ripple of acknowledgment passed through the chamber.
Then finally, Sylva Reth stepped forward.
Her voice was low and smooth. "I was called here in visions—through the waters, through fire and bone. I don't follow your paths. I walk the spiral. But the spiral brought me here."
"You sense danger?" Mara asked.
"I sense truth," Sylva answered, her eyes flicking briefly toward Artorias. "And I sense it carries a blade."
The silence that followed was thick.
No one turned to face him. No one dared.
Artorias remained still.
But his presence in the Force was undeniable. It wasn't light or dark. It wasn't wild or calm. It was judgment.
Not imposed.
Not spoken.
Simply there—a reminder that peace was chosen, not given.
The council recessed after an hour more of discussion—probing questions, philosophical exchanges, discussions of Elysiar's purpose and boundaries. Not all answers were given. Not all questions were asked.
But when the guests left the chamber and passed Knight Artorias, none met his gaze.
Even Sylva Reth, unshaken by spirits and shadow, bowed her head slightly as she passed.
Adam remained until the chamber emptied.
Mara joined him, eyes still on the door.
"They're not threats," she said. "But they're not yet allies either."
Adam nodded slowly. "Not yet. But I think they'll come to understand. And if not…"
His eyes flicked back to the figure of Artorias, who had already vanished into the city.
"…they'll know what not to challenge."