Silence settled over the underground meeting room, interrupted only by the subtle echo of murmurs that still hung in the air.
Vorian, with his black cloak and piercing eyes, walked confidently towards the table of hooded mages, his presence commanding respect and a slight touch of apprehension. He was bald and three meters tall, which made him naturally imposing.
"Vorian, we didn't expect to see you here so soon. What brings you to our meeting?" asked one of the mages, trying to disguise the surprise in his voice. The other six remained silent, watching the Grand Elder Magus with a mixture of curiosity and caution.
Vorian replied with an enigmatic smile, his eyes shining with a peculiar light. "You know, I like parties, but there are urgent matters that need to be discussed. I couldn't sit on the sidelines while the order that's supposed to protect this city is here, working so hard."
Alina, with her magical eyes that floated slowly around the room, searched for any sign or information. The strange relationship between Vorian and the hooded mages intrigued her deeply.
'The Elders directly influence the politics of the City of Tears, not surprisingly. Alina thought.
The mages, still disconcerted by Vorian's surprise presence, began to shrug off their hoods, revealing faces marked by time and magical wisdom. Each of them was a great mage of the city and represented powerful magical skills, from transmutation to necromancy, but they seemed powerless and weak in the face of a Great Elder Mage.
One in particular, with a long white beard and glowing red eyes, seemed to be the informal leader of the group.
"Vorian, you should have sent a warning. It's not common for you to attend our meetings unannounced. We're dealing with delicate matters here," said the leader of the mages with a mixture of respect and suspicion.
Arion's abrupt disappearance left the room in a disturbing silence, with the remaining mages watching in shock and awe. They didn't even want to risk saying anything or asking questions, because they didn't want the same fate as their colleague, whatever happened to him.
Vorian remained unperturbed, his piercing gaze sweeping the room as he made his way to Arion's vacated chair. "As I was saying," Vorian began, resuming his confident posture. "The City of Tears cannot afford to allow indecision at a time like this. We are facing an impending magical storm, and order must be restored before the shadows of disorder deepen."
The remaining mages looked at each other, still processing what had just happened.
Without waiting for a reaction from the other mages, Vorian turned to the table and held up a parchment that was carefully rolled up. "I have here a proposal to reorganize the Council of Mages. Some of you will have to leave for the good of the city. Don't worry about Arion, he was already going to leave the council anyway, after all, he was like an annoying, persistent tumor."
Each wizard knew that restructuring was inevitable, but the speed with which Vorian acted disturbed their notions of autonomy, which were so sacred to them because they were the commanders of their respective noble families. Vorian slid his finger across the parchment, revealing a meticulously drawn up list of the names of the mages and their specialties.
He pointed to some at the table, indicating that they should remain, while others should leave the council. As he pointed, some of the mages sitting at the table disappeared.
"There's no time for endless discussions," declared Vorian, his tone now more austere, when only three of the mages from the old council remained. "Remember, the city needs strong, decisive leaders, so you have one day to decide who your next colleagues will be. I want mages capable of facing the threats that lie ahead and for God's sake be smart enough to think outside your box.
Do you understand me correctly?"
"Yes, Mr. Elder Mage Master Vorian!"