The air in the council chamber was thick with tension as the mysterious mage stood before the gathered elders, her presence commanding yet unnerving.
Elder Lucien Pendragon, arms crossed and lips pressed into a thin line, finally broke the silence. "you've made quiet the entrance, mage," she said dryly, her tone laced with skepticism.
"but forgive us if we're less inclined to admire your… accessories"—she gestured vaguely toward the voodoo doll at the woman's side— "and more concerned about why you've graced us with your presence."
The room fell quieter still, all eyes fixed on the visitor. To everyone's surprise, the mage let out a low chuckle, tilting her head slightly as though amused by their anxiety.
"oh, relax, Elders," she said smoothly, her voice dripping with mockery. "I'm not here to turn anyone into frogs—or worse. Consider that little display outside my way of breaking the ice.
You Elders are far too serious for your own good." Her casual dismissal only seemed to heighten the unease among the council members.
Grand Priest Agapios Lindqvist cleared his throat, leaning forward cautiously. "if this is merely an elaborate jest, mage, then perhaps you could enlighten us on the true purpose of your visit? Time is precious, and our kingdom faces challenges enough without riddles or games."
The mage's smile faded, replaced by an expression of calculated seriousness. She straightened her posture, her gaze sweeping over the council like a blade cutting through fog.
"very well," she began, her voice now sharp and deliberate. "I am here under the directive of the Six Grand Mages of the human race alliance. My task is simple: to search for the prophesied savior—the so-called 'Light-Bearer' foretold centuries ago.
A myth to most, but one that has recently taken on new urgency." She paused, letting her words sink in before adding, almost offhandedly, "and no, I won't be intervening in your affairs. Your sacrifices, your wars, your politics—they're none of my concern."
Before anyone could respond, she turned to one of the guards stationed near the door. "bring it in," she ordered curtly. The guard hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding and disappearing momentarily, returning with a long, ornate case wrapped in black velvet.
Placing it carefully on the council table, he opened it to reveal its contents—a staff unlike anything the council had ever seen. It gleamed faintly, its metallic surface etched with intricate carvings of ancient runes and celestial imagery.
At the top, encircled by ten evenly spaced stars, in the middle floated a diamond globe that pulsed dimly, flickering on and off in rhythmic intervals. Elder Alaric Aguilar leaned closer, his brow furrowed. "what… is that?" he asked, his voice tinged with both awe and apprehension.
The mage smirked, running a finger lightly along the edge of the case. "this," she said, her tone heavy with significance, "is The Starlight Staff. For decades, it lay dormant in the Great Mage's office— it's the only memento the Ten Saints left behind, a relic of prophecy waiting for its time.
But a month ago, it began behaving like this." She tapped the globe gently, causing it to flare briefly before dimming again. "it's restless. Searching. And I believe it knows something we don't."
Elder Gawain Hohenheim, ever the optimist despite the gravity of the situation, clasped her hands together nervously.
"so… what does this mean for us? Are you saying the savior might be here? In Sanctora?" the mage raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "not necessarily. I've already searched the other three human kingdoms—all dead ends. This is my final stop. If the Light-Bearer isn't found here…" she trailed off, leaving the implication hanging ominously in the air.
Elder Cedric Valois, who had remained silent until now, spoke up, his voice steady but edged with frustration. "and how exactly do you intend to find this person? We can't afford chaos or disruption while you conduct your… audition."
The mage's smirk returned, sharper this time. "don't worry, Elder. I won't disrupt your precious routines. All I require is cooperation.
Gather every mage in your kingdom—students, teachers, even those retired old codgers who mutter spells to themselves in their sleep. Bring them to one of your chambers tomorrow morning. The staff will do the rest."
Lucien frowned deeply, suspicion written across her face. "and what happens if someone is chosen? What becomes of them—and of us?"
the mage shrugged nonchalantly, though there was a glint of something darker in her eyes. "that's not my problem. My role ends once the savior is identified.
After that, the Great Mages will decide the next step, or they'll have to figure out how to save our crumbling world—or die trying." Her blunt honesty sent a ripple of discomfort through the room.
Agapios, visibly unsettled, attempted to steer the conversation back to practicalities. "surely there must be some guidance you can offer.
Some clues as to who or what we should expect?" the mage tilted her head thoughtfully, her fingers brushing the voodoo doll at her waist. "all I know is this: the staff responds to potential.
Raw, untapped power. Whoever it chooses will either rise to meet destiny—or crumble beneath its weight. Either way, the choice isn't mine to make." With that cryptic remark, she turned on her heel, signaling the end of the discussion.
As she exited the chamber, the council exchanged uneasy glances, each member silently grappling with the implications of what had just transpired.
As the mage swept out of the council chamber, her intimidating presence still lingering in the air, one of the guards stationed at the door leaned toward Grand Priest Agapios, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"your holiness," he whispered, trying to sound casual but failing miserably, "who was that? She's.. uh, kind of scary and arrogant. Like, I'll turn you into a frog just for breathing wrong' scary."
Agapios paused mid-step, glancing back at the guard with an expression that was equal parts exasperation and disbelief. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and the priest rolled his eyes so dramatically it looked like they might get stuck that way.
Without uttering a single word, Agapios turned on his heel and hurried off, muttering something under his breath about "fools asking questions they aren't ready to handle."
Before the guard could process what had just happened—or whether he should feel insulted—Elder Cedric Valois approached, moving slowly but deliberately as if savoring the tension in the air.
He fixed the young man with a stern gaze, his voice low measured. "that 'scary woman', as you so eloquently put it, is none other than Elowen Verdantia, also known as 'The Verdant Blade'."
The name alone sent a shiver down the guard's spine, though he tried (and failed) to hide it. "she's not just any mage," Cedric continued, leaning closer as if sharing a deadly secret.
"she's one of the most skilled mages alive today—and likely the next successor to the Great Mages. So, unless you want to become part of her infamous collection of demon trophies, I suggest you watch your words around her."
The guard blinked rapidly, clearly overwhelmed. "wait… demon trophies?" Cedric smirked faintly, his tone dry but laced with warning. "oh yes. Let's just say she doesn't exactly invite demons over for tea. You're safe—for now—because you're human. But trust me, even humans aren't immune to her wrath if they cross her."
The guard swallowed hard, clutching his spear tightly. "got it. No jokes. No comments. Definitely no insults." Cedric patted him lightly on the shoulder, his smirk widening ever so slightly. "good choice. Now, try not to faint when she walks by again. It's bad for morale."