The Obsidian Empire

Chapter 6: Falsehoods of Truth

"Either the Magisterium has the most persuasive means of making anyone who becomes a magister suddenly act like a cliché storybook antagonist, or that wasn't really Verrona," Dumaine states the moment he steps into the war room.

Llwell stands over the table with his hands splayed over the map and his back hunched forward as he stares vacantly at the kingdom of Tessiavar.

Rosanhi and Sillavanna follow the mage into the room, the paladin shutting the door behind them as they enter. "You knew that woman, mage?" Sillavanna asks with an air of accusation.

Dumaine sighs. "Yes... But that wasn't the woman I remember," he shakes his head as he leans back against a wall with his arms crossed. "She and I always agreed that Tessiavar was corrupt. The Magisterium was corrupt. Our own families were corrupt, but it seems after becoming a magister she suddenly decided to follow the trend. After all, 'evil, bloodthirsty cultist' is all the rage with the kids these days!"

The paladin balks. "Spare us your jests, mage."

Dumaine glares at her. "You think I'm joking?" he huffs. "I know my people. More than that, I knew Verrona. She was never like the rest, otherwise we wouldn't have been friends. That wasn't her. At least not the Verrona I knew," he sighs and lowers his head. "What have they done to her?" he mutters to himself.

Rosanhi looks to Llwell and eyes him tentatively. "Llwell? Are you alright?"

The elf keeps his head down, his eyes unable to look away from the black ink printed on the map with curly letters spelling out 'Tessiavar.' That seems to be the only word he can form in his head. The only thought that can reach him cohesively in this moment. The only thing that matters.

"Would our claim be enough to pressure the Magisterium?" he asks no one in particular without lifting his gaze.

The spymaster shrugs. "It's certainly sound evidence, but this is no longer about simply presenting our case to the Grand Magister, since he's no longer alive to present to. This is now more like a court trial," her brows furrow in worry. "And you will be forced to testify. To the entire Magisterium. Needless to say, you won't be in high favor with any of the magisters. The odds are greatly stacked against you."

Llwell grits his teeth and shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath. Of course it's never easy.

"Wouldn't the rest of us have a say in anything?" Sillavanna questions.

Dumaine shakes his head with a sigh. "Unfortunately, no. The Hollow is the only one of the Restoration who will be seen as holding a position of power. He would be on the same level as the magisters. But that doesn't mean they'll like it," he explains.

Rosanhi thinks for a moment, then turns her attention to the mage. "The evidence you gathered is convincing, but for the sake of the trial, you should refine the details. Polish it down a bit more."

"I've already been thinking about the areas I could do some work on," Dumaine says. "I'll get on it as soon as possible. But that's assuming we actually take the deal and attend the Baptism of Fire."

"Of course we're attending!" Llwell snaps and finally breaks his gaze from the map to glare at him. "You heard the magister! If we don't go, my sister will be—" he takes a deep breath and looks away, biting his lip as he tries to calm himself down. The thought is too painful to put to words.

Dumaine holds up his hands and sighs, his eyes soften. "I know, Tathlani. But I only meant to suggest that we consider all options before knowingly walking into a trap."

Sillavanna nods and steps up to the table. "That's our one advantage. We're expecting their trap, so we can turn it to our benefit. We've been seeking the attention of Tessiavar, and now we have it."