Reborn with Eyes of Fate-Chapter 28: Call From The Council

Naia gasped in mock offense.

"Excuse you! This mouth saves lives, thank you very much!"

Everyone chuckled at that, even the reserved Yena, who took her place beside Evon, smoothing her golden dress nervously.

Evon finally joined them, lowering himself between Yena and Lyria. He reached casually for a pitcher, pouring wine into their wooden cups.

"To today," he said, raising his cup.

"To today," the others echoed, their voices blending together in a chorus.

They drank, the wine sweet and cool against their tongues, warming their bellies pleasantly.

---

As the meal began in earnest, the conversation flowed just as easily as the wine.

They spoke of small things at first — the way Naia had slipped during training and ended up face-first in a patch of mud, the amusingly serious way Veyra had instructed Yena on holding a practice blade, Sythara's gentle teasing of Lyria's fiery temper.

Their laughter echoed into the night, soft and unforced.

At one point, Naia leaned forward, plucking a strawberry from a platter and offering it teasingly to Veyra.

"Come on, mighty general," she said, waggling the berry. "You know you want it."

Veyra gave her a withering look, but after a moment, she leaned forward and bit the strawberry cleanly from Naia's fingers, never breaking eye contact.

The table erupted in giggles and playful jeers.

Evon leaned back in his chair, smiling quietly.

It was... *perfect.*

The stars above seemed to swirl lazily, great rivers of silver light bleeding across the dark velvet sky. A full moon rose slow and regal from the horizon, bathing them all in its soft, loving glow.

Lyria sighed contentedly, leaning her head back to gaze up.

"I used to think... I would never have something like this," she said quietly, voice carrying a rare softness.

Sythara tilted her head.

"Something like what?"

Lyria shrugged, a small, almost embarrassed gesture.

"Home. Family. Peace."

She paused, then smiled, fiery eyes gleaming. "And ridiculous people to annoy."

Naia stuck out her tongue at her.

"You're welcome."

The laughter died down slowly, replaced by a more tender atmosphere.

Veyra set down her cup carefully, her cybernetic fingers tracing idle patterns on the wood.

"I never thought I'd fight for anything other than survival," she said, voice low but steady. "But now... I fight because I want to protect this."

Yena reached out, placing her slender hand over Veyra's.

"And we will," Yena said softly, her golden hair shining in the moonlight.

Evon's heart ached with a deep, full kind of joy.

He leaned forward, meeting each of their gazes one by one.

"We've all come from different worlds," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "But here, we've made something new. Something ours."

He reached out, weaving his fingers through Yena's, then through Naia's free hand as well.

Slowly, the others followed — Veyra, Lyria, Sythara — until they were all linked together, hand in hand, forming a quiet circle of warmth against the cool night.

For a long, beautiful moment, they simply sat like that, breathing, connected, whole.

---

The meal dwindled to soft nibbling and lazy sips of wine.

The music played on, a lilting, almost lullaby-like melody.

Somewhere, a nightbird sang.

Evon found himself lying on the thick grass with Naia curled against one side of him, Yena on the other, her head resting lightly on his chest. Lyria lay sprawled nearby, tracing constellations lazily with one finger. Sythara stood watch at the edge of the garden, arms folded, but even she looked relaxed, her sharp golden eyes softening in the moonlight.

Veyra was fiddling with a small mechanical bird she had crafted, letting it flit and hover gently above the group like a curious little spirit.

"Tell me," Yena whispered suddenly, lifting her head to look at Evon. "What did you see... when you first met us?"

Evon smiled faintly, brushing a lock of her hair back from her face.

"I saw..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "Potential. Hope. A future I didn't know I needed."

Naia nudged him playfully.

"Good answer, lover boy."

He laughed, a deep, rich sound.

"But it's true," he said. "Each of you... you're more than warriors. You're the heartbeat of this place. Of my life."

Lyria yawned exaggeratedly.

"Flatterer," she teased, but her voice was thick with affection.

They drifted like that for a while, exchanging memories, dreams, promises.

Sythara finally approached, settling down behind Evon, folding her wings loosely around the group like a great protective shield.

Naia grinned up at her.

"Big momma dragon," she teased.

"Child," Sythara replied with a regal sniff.

Even Veyra cracked a rare, soft smile.

---

The conversation ebbed into silence, but it was a comfortable, sacred kind of quiet.

Yena snuggled closer to Evon, her fingers tracing light patterns over his chest, tentative but growing bolder.

Naia shifted, laying her head on Evon's shoulder.

Lyria rolled over to drape an arm across his legs, purring almost like a contented cat.

Sythara leaned down, resting her forehead gently against the top of his head, a low rumble of affection vibrating through her.

Veyra simply watched, her deep violet eyes glowing softly, her mechanical fingers twitching with some internal emotion she didn't voice.

Evon closed his eyes.

He could feel them — their warmth, their breathing, their heartbeat.

He felt *alive.*

Slowly, he let one hand trail up Yena's back, comforting, reassuring. She sighed, a shiver running through her delicate form.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Naia pressed a kiss against his shoulder, playful and sweet.

Lyria nuzzled against his leg, her hair spilling like fire across his lap.

Sythara's massive form cocooned them all in a shield of scale and muscle and tender protectiveness.

Veyra finally moved closer, resting a hand on Evon's free arm, anchoring herself there without words.

The stars wheeled overhead.

The night stretched out endlessly before them.

And together, heart to heart, soul to soul, they drifted toward dreams — tangled, warm, and whole.

---

The morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting gentle golden beams across the breakfast table. Steam rose from bowls of warm porridge and plates of sweet berry pastries. The mood was light, unhurried — a soft, perfect beginning to the day.

Evon sat at the head of the table, sipping on herbal tea while his companions chatted lazily around him.

Naia was animated, hands flying in every direction as she recounted a dream she'd had the night before — something about battling a giant talking fish.

"I swear it tried to sell me a magic carpet!" she exclaimed, laughing.

"Sounds more like a fever dream than a normal one," Veyra said dryly, picking at a slice of toasted bread.

Sythara smirked faintly over her mug, her massive wings folded neatly behind her.

"You would negotiate with a monster," she said, giving Naia an indulgent look.

"It's called diplomacy!" Naia huffed.

Yena smiled shyly, sitting beside Evon. She listened more than she spoke, her emerald eyes bright with amusement.

Lyria was sprawled lazily in her chair, cradling her cup of spiced milk, her fiery hair messy and beautiful in the soft morning light.

"You're all insane," Lyria declared cheerfully. "And I fit right in."

Evon chuckled, feeling the warmth of their bond settle deep inside him.

---

After breakfast, they gathered at the training grounds — a wide, open field just behind the residence, bordered by trees and crisscrossed by ancient stone paths.

It was a place of sweat and laughter, of battle and growth. Here, they had honed their skills together, bled together, become something more than warriors.

The sun was climbing higher now, warm on their skin.

Evon stood in the center of the field, observing as Yena practiced her light elemental techniques. A gentle sphere of glowing energy floated between her palms, pulsing softly with her heartbeat.

"Good, Yena," Evon said warmly. "Focus on feeling the flow, not forcing it."

Yena nodded, biting her lower lip in concentration.

Naia was practicing water shaping nearby, creating delicate streams that danced through the air like living ribbons.

Sythara and Veyra were locked in a slow, methodical spar, steel clashing against scaled claw, the sounds sharp and rhythmic.

Lyria was seated cross-legged, flames swirling around her in controlled circles as she meditated.

The air was full of life and movement.

Everything felt right.

Until —

A loud knock echoed through the air.

Everyone froze for a heartbeat.

Another knock — harder this time — rang from the direction of the residence.

Evon exchanged a quick glance with Sythara, who immediately stepped forward, her instincts sharp and ready.

"Stay alert," he said quietly.

They moved together, a tightly-knit unit, back toward the front of the residence.

---

Standing outside their gate were a group of elven female soldiers — perhaps a dozen strong.

They were clad in light armor of silver and green, their long hair braided in warrior styles, bows slung across their backs, curved blades at their hips. Their expressions were stern, their bearing formal.

The leader — a tall elf with silver hair and piercing blue eyes — stepped forward and addressed Evon directly.

"We come under orders from the Council," she said crisply. "We are here to escort the new light elemental — the girl called Yena — into protective custody."

There was a long, heavy silence.

Evon felt Yena tense behind him.

Naia let out a soft, incredulous noise.

"Protective custody?" she echoed. "Excuse me?"

Veyra's cybernetic fingers twitched at her side.

Lyria's eyes narrowed, twin flames starting to spark faintly in their depths.

Sythara stepped closer to Evon, a low growl rumbling deep in her throat.

Evon raised a hand, calming them.

He took a slow step forward, his expression calm but firm.

"On whose authority?" he asked.

"The Council of Unified Tribes," the elf replied. "By their decree, any surviving pure elemental must be registered and housed under direct supervision. For their safety — and the safety of others."

Her tone was polite, but there was no mistaking the steel underneath.

Evon's jaw tightened.

Behind him, Yena's hand found his sleeve, gripping lightly, uncertainly.

He turned slightly to glance at her — the fear in her eyes was like a dagger in his heart.

He turned back to the soldiers.

"She is under my protection," he said steadily. "She is not a prisoner. She is free."

The elf's lips tightened into a thin line.

"You may appeal, if you wish," she said. "But until then, we are ordered to bring her."

Evon's heart pounded.

He felt his companions shift around him, the subtle readiness of warriors preparing for a fight.

He knew they could win — here and now — but it would spark a conflict they weren't ready for.

No.

He would do this right.

"We'll go with you," Evon said finally. "All of us. We'll settle this properly."

The elf hesitated, clearly not expecting that.

But after a moment, she nodded sharply.

"As you wish."

---

The trip to the council city was tense but uneventful.

Evon rode at the front with Yena close beside him, the others forming a loose protective ring around them.

The landscape passed by in a blur of gold and green — fields of wildflowers, rolling hills, the occasional distant glimmer of lakes and streams.

No one spoke much, but the bond between them was palpable.

Naia would occasionally reach over to squeeze Yena's hand.

Sythara kept glancing back, always alert.

Veyra rode stiffly, her mechanical joints humming softly.

Lyria muttered under her breath the entire way, cursing bureaucracy, officials, and anyone who dared to threaten their peace.

Yena sat silent, eyes wide, absorbing everything.

Evon kept his hand close to his sword but smiled at her reassuringly every time she looked uncertain.

"We're with you, don't be afraid nothing will happen, everything will go smoothly" he said quietly.

She nodded, a small, trembling smile on her lips.

---

The council city was a sprawling, beautiful place — towers of white stone, gardens of glassy ponds and singing trees.

They were ushered quickly into a grand hall carved from living crystal, where the council elders sat on raised thrones, their faces impassive and severe.

The leading elder, a tall woman with silver hair bound in intricate braids, raised a hand for silence.

"You bring before us a survivor of the Light Elemental Tribe," she said, her voice ringing through the hall. "We must determine her status."

Evon stepped forward.

"She is free," he said. "She has chosen to be with us. She is not a threat."

The council murmured among themselves.

The elder leaned forward.

"And you are?"

Evon already introduced himself when he first came to this world but this was a new member so she doesn't know him. Evon respectfully introduced himself.

"Evon Wang," he said. "Seer of Fate. Protector of these lands."

There was a ripple of recognition.

One of the previous councilors leaned toward the elder, whispering something urgently.

The elder nodded.

"So, You claim responsibility for her?" the elder said.

"I do," Evon replied without hesitation.

"And what about them? your companions, did they accept her as one of them?"

He turned to look at them.

One by one, they stepped forward.

"I do," said Naia, voice firm.

"I do," said Veyra, her mechanical arm clinking softly.

"I do," said Sythara, wings flaring slightly.

"I do," said Lyria, flames dancing in her palms.

"I do," whispered Yena, stepping forward to stand proudly beside Evon.

The elder studied them all for a long, heavy moment.

Then she spoke.

"Very well. By ancient law, if one is claimed under the Rite of Bonds by five witnesses, and the bond is accepted freely by the claimed, then the council shall recognize it."

She smiled faintly, the first crack in her stern demeanor.

"It appears you have fulfilled the Rite, Seer."

The hall burst into murmured conversation.

Evon felt the tension bleed from his body.

Yena was trembling with relief.

He reached out and squeezed her hand.

"It's done," he said softly.

"We're home," Naia whispered, grinning.

They returned that evening, exhausted but triumphant.

The sun was setting behind the hills, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink.

The residence glowed like a beacon of welcome.

Yena stood before it, tears brimming in her eyes. She was officially considered as a member of Evon's family. She now officially has a happy and beautiful Family recognized by the council itself.

"This is my home now," she said, wonder in her voice.

"Our home," Naia corrected, flinging an arm around her shoulders.

They all laughed — loud and free — and the last of the tension melted away.

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