The Gathering
As the sun rose upon the mountain and the monastery that was carved out its peak, a lone figure exited through an ornately carved set of doors, and began to walk. He followed the trail that led down the mountain, and the sun's rays shone upon his tanned and shaven head. By midmorning, he had reached the base of the mountain, strolling placidly through a family of grazing deer, who kept feeding without alarm. By noon, the grasslands gave way to forests, and small villages began to appear. His passing was met by most villagers with open-mouthed awe, and the occasional bowed head. Midafternoon, he was walking through larger towns, with more evidence of technological advancement, and more than a few cameras flashed as he passed. Some tried to engage him in conversation, or entreat him for wisdom, but to all he simply smiled and held up a hand as he shook his head.
He arrived at his destination by late afternoon, the great stone fortress of Ilmareth. As he approached the doors, they opened before him, and armoured guard wearing the sigil of the Children of Serenity stood inside. "Welcome, Grand Master," he said stiffly. "If you would please follow me, our leader awaits your honoured presence." He followed the guard down a wide corridor and through a set of steel doors, into a large hall. A low and round stone wall stood in the centre, around a blazing fire, and smoke wafted up through a circular skylight.
A thick stone table stood to their left, and he could see Caelia, leader of the Children of Serenity, sitting at the table's head. "Ahriman, please, come and sit.” The guard bowed curtly and left. “You walked for many miles, and we have food and drink ready.”
“Just some water, please,” Ahriman nodded politely as he sat. “I am not the first to arrive.” He looked pointedly at the seat across from him.
Azura Nokomis waved a hand, casting aside the invisibility spell she had woven, and she scowled. “How did you know, Grand Master?” She spoke the title with a sneer.
“Your chair was slightly askew,” he said evenly, “You stink of sulphur and herbs, and you breathe louder than a-”
A sudden commotion in the hallway cut Ahriman off in mid-sentence, and the guard who had greeted him crashed through the heavy doors and landed on his back. “Greetings, Caelia!” A deep and raspy voice thundered into the room, as Ubzargan the Ruthless stepped over the prone guard. He was flanked by two huge warriors, and he gestured to them as he approached the table.
“He didn’t want to let my friends in,” he explained, grabbing a goblet from the table and taking a swig. “What kind of hospitality are you providing here, anyway?”
Caelia narrowed her eyes. “The invitation was for you and you alone,” she said sternly. “Unless you fear us so much that you require your bodyguards at your side…”
Ubzargan smirked and chuckled humourlessly, dismissing his men from the room with a motion of his head. “So,” he said as he sat, “What are we all doing here? Are you finally conceding that she’s not coming back?”
“Terras has not yet arrived,” said Caelia, ignoring his question. “We cannot begin before he joins us.”
Azura snorted, scratching a pointed ear. “He’s probably not even going to show up. He doesn’t care what the rest of us do. Neither do I, for that matter.”
“Nonetheless,” stated Caelia, “His presence will be required. I ensured that the message was clear - he will be here.”
“Ubzargan has already spoken what is surely the purpose of this gathering,” said Ahriman softly. “It has been decades since she has been seen.”
“Forty-seven years, three months,” Caelia began, but Ahriman continued.
“The land, unified under her rule for centuries, has not fared well. Political stability outside the cities has fallen apart, with most people identifying with one clan or another. Undertones of fear and distrust-”
“You are correct,” Caelia cut him off. “That is why we are here. It is time to once again unify our realm. I look to you, the leaders of your clans, for support in this. Together, we can-”
“A unified realm?” crowed Ubzargan. “Sounds great. And who will rule this fine utopia?”
Caelia regarded him for a second before answering. “The Children of Serenity still follow her tenets and teachings. Our cities still maintain centers of learning, hospitals, and the rule of law. I will be declared Luminarch, and under my guidance, the realm-”
“Luminarch?” laughed Azura Nokomis. “What audacity! You think you can fill those shoes?”
Ubzargan stood suddenly, toppling his seat behind him. “If anyone should be declared ruler of this land, it should be me!” He jabbed a robotic finger in Caelia’s direction. “You think your cities and government and law give you power? They are merely places for you to hide, and talk, and seal yourselves away from the truth!” He cast his arm up, behind him, still pointing. “The Warriors of the Shadows are the real law out there. In fact,” the cyborg brought his hand down and observed it, moving the steel fingers and leering at Caelia, “I’m already technologically enhanced. Perhaps I should be declared Technomagus!”
“You are a leader of bandits and rogues!” retorted Caelia hotly. “Under your rule, the realm would deteriorate faster than-”
“Than it already is?” interjected Ahriman. “The Brotherhood’s strict tenets would-”
“Those ‘bandits and rogues’ are loyal only to me,” Ubzargan leaned forward, placing his hands on the table. “They have no use for the teachings of an absent goddess. One word from me, and the forces at my command could take this fortress within a day!”
“Try it!” Caelia’s eyes smoldered as she stood, glaring at the cyborg warrior.
“My, my, my,” came a voice from the doorway. Terras, leader of the Guardians of the Lifeforce, walked in, his hands pursed together in mock concern. “What violent words! I pray I didn’t miss too much?” He strode in and took a seat next to Ahriman, who pointedly looked away.
“Caelia wishes to unify the realm under her control,” said Azura mockingly.
“Does she?” Terras arched an eyebrow and lifted a flower from an arrangement on the table, sniffing it. “Good luck to her then. As ever, we Guardians are uninterested in the politics of the day. Makes no difference to us how people choose to live - they all rejoin the Lifeforce in the end. It matters not how one chooses to make their journey back.”
“Told you,” smirked Azura.
“It matters greatly how one chooses to live one’s life!” said Ahriman.
“ENOUGH!” shouted Ubzargan. “I will show you exactly what this realm will look like under my control! We have been in the shadows for long enough, and when we show ourselves, your rules and councils and talk will mean nothing!”
“I’ve heard enough.” Azura stood, and headed for the door. Two acolytes shed their cloaking spells and walked beside her.
“What shall we do, my lady?” whispered one, as they left the gathering behind.
“We prepare for war,” said Azura. “If anyone is going to rule this land, it is going to be me!”