The galleries of the Dome of Stars were crowded with elves waiting on the high council. Seiveril studied the spectators with a smile of satisfaction. For the last two days he had spoken to dozens of friends, acquaintances, and allies, asking them to attend the open session and pass the word along to anyone they knew. Many of the onlookers were men and women of the Queen's Guard, the Spellarchers, the Eagle Knights, and other elite companies of Evermeet's armies. The clerics of Corellon Larethian and the other deities of the Seldarine were well represented too, and with them many of the temple knights and holy champions of the elven faith. Seiveril also noted no small number of nobles and merchants whose sympathies belonged to Lady Durothil and her faction. Apparently Durothil and Veldann had heard of his call to his adherents and allies, and they had made sure to summon their own supporters to the day's council meeting.
Surprisingly, he was not at all nervous. He knew what he intended to say, and he was certain of his course. The low murmur of hundreds of voices filled the chamber. Seiveril could feel the eyes of the other council members on him, but he waited patiently for the queen.
At the appointed hour, Amlaruil swept into the Dome, clad in a formal dress that seemed to cascade from her shoulders like a shower of silver. Her diadem tiara gleamed in the soft starlight of the chamber. With the rest of the council, Seiveril rose as she entered, and bowed respectfully before resuming his seat.
Amlaruil took the golden scepter of her office and rapped it twice on the glassteel table.
"I call the council to order," she said, her voice carrying through the great chamber. "Lord Miritar has requested the opportunity to address the council before we consider our ongoing deliberations. I hereby yield the floor to Lord Seiveril Miritar."
Seiveril stood slowly and bowed to the throne. He had half-expected Selsharra Durothil to protest the breach of custom, but evidently she was not quite foolish enough to attempt to keep him from speaking out of order. Amlaruil would allow him to say what he wanted to say whether she protested or not, and the attempt would make her look petty and spiteful. He turned to face the crowded galleries ringing the chamber, and the crowd fell silent, awaiting his words.
"Ten thousand years ago," he began, "Evermeet was founded by our ancestors as a refuge from the perils and dangers of the rest of the world, a place where the People might exist apart from the savages and barbarians, the monsters and the dragons, who have always been envious of the beauty we bring into the world. Yet Evermeet has rarely been a perfect sanctuary. Early in our history we battled the evil creatures of the sea. Later we fought against enemies who came against us through extra-planar gates and hidden tunnels. And only three years ago we were faced with a terrible alliance of all our enemies, including traitors from within our own land who followed Kymil Nimesin in his war against the throne.
With courage and the favor of the Seldarine, we have triumphed over all of these foes. Evermeet has not been the place of peace our forefathers dreamed of, but it is a place of beauty and strength.
"Yet we are not the only elves who walk in this world. Across the sea lie the realms of our kinfolk, realms such as Evereska and the Yuirwood, the High Forest and the Wealdath. Just as we are one People, bound by one language, one history, one destiny, so are our realms all one. If an elf is slain in the High Forest, then Evermeet has lost a son. If a city is thrown down in ruin in the Gray-peaks, than Leuthilspar has been sacked. Some among this council do not recognize this essential truth. While our kinfolk in Evereska and the High Forest face war and devastation, our leaders refuse to aid them. I cannot find it in my heart to go along with this decision.
"I have come before you today to announce my resignation from this council. It is with a heavy heart that I lay aside the duties and responsibilities King Zaor called on me to accept sixty years ago. But from time to time, we are all called to answer our own consciences. For many days now I have sought Corellon Larethian's counsel, and this is the answer that the Seldarine have shown me: I must go to Faerun.
"I must go to Faerun, and I call on each of you who feels as I do to join me. The council and the throne are unable to ask Evermeet's People to accept the burden of fighting in the defense of distant lands we have long abandoned. Very well; I ask none but willing volunteers to join me. Our kinfolk in Evereska and the High Forest are threatened by terrible new enemies, and I mean to help them. Our ancient lands have grown wild and dangerous, and I mean to restore them.
"If you believe that the time of our People is done in Faerun, I do not want you. If you fear that your strength will be missed too much here, that your duties are too important to lay aside, then I do not ask you to abandon them. If you simply do not care what becomes of kinfolk who live thousands of miles away, then I despise you! But if you think, as I do, that it is an act of cowardice and complicity to name something evil, and refuse to oppose it with all your might and will and power, then I call on you to join me in this crusade.
"Make your farewells, sons and daughters of Evermeet. Lay your affairs in order, walk with your children, your lovers, and your parents in the sacred glens of this blessed isle one last time. Then gird yourself in mail, and take up your bows, swords, and lances, and come to me at Elion. There I will gather my host. In ten days' time we will pass out of Evermeet back to Faerun, and we will show our enemies whether or not we have any strength left to do good in this world. But know this: Whether I lead a mighty host of ten thousand, a legion of a thousand, a brave company of a hundred, or none but myself, I will go."
"I will go, my friends. This is what Corellon Larethian has put in my heart." Seiveril paused, and gathered his strength for a mighty cry. "Who is with me?"
The Dome of Stars erupted into chaos, with hundreds of voices calling out at once. From the gallery came a chorus of "I am!" and "I will go!" and "My sword is yours!" But mixed in with the rousing cries of those willing to volunteer came catcalls and other voices shouting "Madness!" and "Treason! Treason!"
At the table, all the rest of the high councilors were on their feet, every bit as agitated as the partisans in the gallery.
"You have no right!" Selsharra Durothil screeched. "You have no right, Miritar. You cannot choose to launch a war because you, and you alone, think it is the right thing to do!"
"I cannot be expected to defend Evermeet if half my soldiers go off to Faerun," Keryth Blackhelm snapped. "This is reckless, Lord Seiveril!"
"I will go, and I will bring two hundred of my archers and scouts with me!" the wood elf princess Jerreda Star-cloak cried. "Our people are fighting for their lives in the High Forest. I will not turn my back on them."
"Lord Miritar, I cannot allow you to take high mages away from Evermeet," Grand Mage Olithir said. His calm manner was belied by his wide eyes and pale face. "We have too few left after Nimesin's war and the fight against the phaerimm. We dare not risk the loss of any more."
Ammisyll Veldann kept her composure. She simply turned to look at Amlaruil, who remained seated in her high seat with her face impassive.
"Surely, my queen, you will not permit this act of madness to proceed," Ammisyll said in a dangerously quiet voice. "Or does Lord Miritar defy the will of this council with your blessing?"
Amlaruil betrayed no emotion, but she stood slowly and set her scepter on the table. The lords and ladies fell silent, awaiting her words, and even the chaos in the gallery diminished as the crowds there realized that the queen was about to speak.