The Archon's Ascendancy, Chapter Two: The Sabbath of the Magna Tor
Chapter Two: The Sabbath of the Magna Tor
1. Fear! Suffocating and gripping! I am drowning in my sin, sinking further to oblivion. My chest ache's, and eyes sting as the dark bloody abyss of Sheol's seas drag me into insanity. I fear of what is inside my head; What is inside my soul!
2. Eroth, my king and tremendous majesty! You, who freely save those worthy ones through thine perfect grace! I beg of thee: Save me! Save me source of Piety! Save me from this horrid place! Save me from my own Sin!
Sheol, 1: 1-2
High atop the Empyrean Spire within the magical floating city of Cockaigne lies a room that condenses and stores mana to power the city's enchantments. For all intents and purposes, it is a nexus as it bends the paths of any ley lines it crosses and coalesces them into the this room. This room is known as Myrddin's Eye. Within the Eye, time shifts and slows to a snails pace. It is seemingly separate from the world outside. The Eye is so powerful that the occupiers of the room could see anywhere in Zaeus. In the entirety of the world, only nine people are allowed within this room.
They are called the Magna Tor.
They are the rulers of the Magisterium. Nine of the most powerful magi in the Empire--perhaps even the world--that are were responsible for many intricate details of the Magisterium that many are not aware of. As such, there were only a few times when a full sabbath was called. A sabbath was mandatory, and usually meant that they would be teleported there against their will if they took too long to respond to the summons. What ever they are doing--no matter whom a Magna was with--they had to leave and not explain their reasoning. If they were in audience with a member of the Golden Court--the collection of nobles that made up the aristocracy of the Arathian Empire--then they would receive an apology penned by the Emperor himself.
Balthazar Pendross sits within Myrddin's Eye; the walls shift into a seemingly endless space that is filled with an infinite amount of stars as an orb of liquid mana undulates in the middle of the chamber. It lets off a faint blue glow and a bit of warmth. Balthazar is rather comfy within his conjured chair as a similarly conjured tea pot and cup float in mid air. He wears robes of black silk with golden clasps and embroidery, and a long furred black cape. His face is obscured by a rather extravagant sun mask with a crown. Upon it where many intricate designs of twelve circles that held within them the symbols of the Arathian zodiac. The crown itself had many diamonds embedded in gold settings with larger diamonds and onyx gemstones forming patterns on the front of the crown. Two small discs with the Magisterial seal etched into them float besides his mask's featureless face. Three slots are carved for the eyes as and the mouth, but no flesh appears beneath them. Using his magic, he commands the tea pot to pour itself into the cup, and it floats carefully to his grasp where he lifts it to his mask's mouth slit. The liquid flows from the cup to his mouth in order to drink.
A sabbath was no small matter to call, and if Balthazar knows anything about Archduchess Vladimira Hoenheim, it is that she is as austere as they come. She is strict and took the duties she had been given by both the Golden Court and Magisterium seriously. He has great respect for the woman as both a mage and ruler. She would not call a Sabbath for an unimportant reason.
He surmises the reason was the fiery disturbance in the ley lines just a few short days ago. The ley lines are invisible rivers of arcane energy that flow to and from the Eternal Sea beyond the borders of their world. Every mage is attuned to the ley lines as mana is constantly flowing out and in from these ley lines. Even those of younger years can feel vibrations of of the ley lines and all that affect it. It takes an incredibly amount of power to conceal any rituals that tears power from them; there was nothing hidden about this disturbance. It sent a ripple across the network that spanned the entire globe. Mages from the far country of Xian Fei even sent messages to the Magisterium about this disturbance, and it was on the other side of the world.
"No normal mage could have caused such a disturbance," Balthazar growls to himself, as he was the only one within the Eye.
"This one is not normal." A voice speaks suddenly. It seems that Balthazar was wrong. It is morose and macabre; the voice one would hear whispered into thier ear late at night by a terror to anyone that wasn't Magna Tor.
He simply said, "Korrigan."
He turns, the face of his golden mask unreadable as he faces the terror of Korrigan the Revenant shifting before him. His legs obscured by his jet black robe that flickers and burns at the hem like fire. His form is armless and goes far above Balthazar's height of six feet to a monstrous twelve. Sitting in the midst of the sea of black is the skull of a stag, his eyes burning with blue flame and his head laying within a shimmering black and purple aura. His antlers are impressive and curve up at an angle and split into many points. Hanging from them are arcane symbols and fetishes.
"Balthazar," His voice is but a whisper but his mouth did not move, "Where are the others?"
"I expected Vladimira to be here promptly. 'Twas she who called this sabbath, but we are the only ones here. Rather bothersome. I have experiments running and astral projection won't be satisfactory for note taking." Balthazar eyes him and asks, "How are things in the Dreadwastes?"
"Good, as can be expected." Korrigan regards his colleague, standing emotionless.. "The Sons of Asgeir still elude my wrath, but rest assured that their time will come."
Balthazar lifts the cup of tea and drinks again. He speaks with an amused tone, "Good. Show those bastards what for."
There is a cracking sound and a sweet voice calls to the both of them. "Oh hello there you two." Both Magna Tor look to the new arrival; a bubbly albino rabbit woman wearing white robes that seamlessly blends into her fur. The only stark contrast being her blood red eyes and the golden lace with which she decorated her trailing twin braids. "It's lovely to see you two again."
"Phoebe, darling." Korrigan whispers out as he bows to her, "Ravishing as always."
Phoebe curtsies to the Revenant thanking him for his compliment.
"Good to see you, my dear." Balthazar eyes her from behind his mask. "Are the others on their way?"
The rabbit smiles as her eyes flash white. She speaks in a rather monotonous tone. "Theodore is currently with a lover in his villa in the Scalarian Isles, but he will arrive shortly." She blinked and spoke again, "Thyristor and Fiona are arguing as per usual." Another blink. "And Vladimira ran into some complications with her staff." She blinked one final time and her face contorted into confusion. "The ley lines show me nothing of Samuel and Aloïs... Strange. Perhaps they do not wish to be see?"
"Well one can hardly blame them if you can peek into a person's most private moments." Balthazar grinned behind his mask and let forth a small chuckle. The three of them used the time to catch up with one another. Neither of the two men have seen much of Phoebe.
True to her word, Theodore de Lycra did arrive within ten minutes. He carries himself in a posh manner; swaggering into the Eye wearing a styled jerkin of purple with gold embroidery. The collar of which is high, holding up his rather slender feline head and puffing out his fur. He wears high heels that clicked loudly against the stone floor. The calico cat has a patch of black fur over the right of his face, and brown one over the other with white going over his snout and mouth. His rather fluffy tail swishes about as he looks to the others.
"I dare say there better be a reason I've been dragged all the way from my villa to this cold hellhole," says Theodore in a melodious tone. He waves his hand, conjuring a chaise style couch that he then laid upon seductively. He whines, "The cold never did agree with me..."
"Many things do not agree with you"--Balthazar chastises him. He never understood how someone like him became so powerful.--"but it is amazing that you showed up this early; the others are not here yet."
Theodore scowls, "Oh how droll... at least there's wine now." He snaps his fingers again; this time conjuring a bottle of wine which fills a floating glass. "Korrigan, Phoebe..."
Korrigan merely responds with a grunt. Like Balthazar, he did not like Theodore very much.
"Hello Theodore!" Phoebe chuckles. "How are things within the Isles?"
Theodore smiles warmly at her. "Amazing darling! You should consider visiting there more often. The Midsummer Festival is right around the corner and I hear--" There is another pop of a portal and in came the next two Magna Tor; a male lion and a human female. The lion is Thyristor Feuer; dressed in bright and ardent robes of red, gold, and orange. Along his bare arms are flaming shapes of arcane script and symbols that bolster his prowess with his chosen element among the school of Evocation. His namesake "Feuer" however, comes from his auric and flaming mane that engulfs his entire head. It also burned out his eyes; leaving only soulless flame instead. Dancing around Thyristor are orbs of arcane fire that briefly take the shape of phoenixes before going back into their orb form.
The human that came in with him was more than a bit uncomfortable in Thyristor's presence, so much so that she immediately bolted out of his vicinity as soon as the portal opened. She wears a robe of seemingly pure white snow with golden embroidery dancing symmetrical patterns down from her neck to her breast, to her waist, and over her hips, then down the length of the dress. The hem of which is scattered and frayed to look like ice. Her collar also has the same look to it and opens up into a cone-like structure that points away from her body. Her hair is cut short, pure white, and her skin is deathly pale. Her eyes however are the most unsettling thing about her. She cast her eerie glowing blue orbs at Thyristor; a single black dot serving as a pupil. She is Fiona the Boreal Queen.
"You are positively revolting," she spits at Thyristor.
The lion waves her off, his tone unamused. "Yeah yeah, fuck you too, Fiona." She sputters indignantly, but he cuts her off, "You're just envious of my mastery over Evocation, and upset you chose a weaker element."
"WEAK?!" She shrieks. Her anger manifests itself as several large shards of ice that shoot from the ground; a bitter and howling wind erupts in the Eye as the others of the Magna Tor sit in silence. Thyristor's flaming mane dims somewhat at the sudden loss of heat, but the proximity to the Eye prevented his flame from being snuffed out. "It is elementary knowledge that fire requires heat! Shall I prove it too you here and now by snuffing yours out!"
As Thyristor roars! Summoning up several flaming hydra heads that hiss at the cryomancer. The two of them stare each other down, ready to utterly destroy each other as the entire Eye shook from their displays of power. Theodore chuckles behind his glass of wine as he shakes his head, "You two really are quite the couple..." They both shoot him a dirty look which didn't seem to faze him in the slightest.
Balthazar yells at the two magi, "Enough!! The Eye is no place for your petty squabble!"
"Indeed my dears, please put your magic away. They're still cleaning up the park after your last duel." Phoebe asked politely.
The two of them relax at the rabbit's request and move to opposite sides of the room. Fiona taking herself a seat on Theodore's long chaise, and Thyristor standing and looking out into the ever expansive blackness of space. Stars glittered around them as it suddenly shifted to the orbit of some unknown world covered in water with the moon peeking from behind it as a binary star system burned in the distance.
The seventh member of the Magna Tor came through a portal then, and immediately was beset by a string of insults by Theodore.
"Vladimira Hoenheim I swear to Eroth if you dragged me from my villa for nothing; I'm going to--" He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence when the woman in question--a black bat with a bob weave hairstyle and dressed in black leather robes--merely snapped her fingers at him. Turning him from his rather flamboyant self to that of a common wooly sheep. The other Magna Tor snickered at the exchange as Theodore the Sheep began bleating angrily at the bat. She passed him, weaving another spell that sealed his mouth shut. He pranced around stomping his little hooves as Vladimira nonchalantly continued as if nothing happened.
Vladimira Hoenheim is the jewel of the courts in both Florais and Dordrecht. She had at one time been the trusted sorceress of King Reinhardt of Dordrecht, and is one of the most accomplished sorceresses of the entirety of the Arathian Empire. Her intellect and influence of the Golden Court is not to be underestimated. She is proud and beautiful; graceful and elegant beyond words. She is indeed one of the most attractive women Balthazar had ever seen, but she is by no means the most pleasant. She has an air of chillness about her, and her stare could turn any confidant man into putty; of which she could then mold how she saw fit.
"Sorry for the delay; It's so hard to find good servants these days," She sighs, taking Theodore's wine and conjuring herself a glass to pour it in. "Rest assured it won't happen again."
"It must have been important for you to call this meeting..." Thyristor adds curiously. "Does it have anything to do with that disturbance in Dordrecht?"
"Yes... But I will tell the entire story once the Archon and he get here."
There is another loud pop and a rowdy voice called; much to everyone's chagrin, "Already 'ere luv!" Everyone lets out a groan and winces at his heavy Northern Dordt accent. They all look to see a floating red fox a wide and playful smile.
Fiona whines, "Can you please speak like a civilized person?"
"For ye?" He thinks aloud, placing a finger on his chin. He breaks into that same grin. "Nah luv, 'fraid not." Compared to everyone in the room he is far less likely to attract attention if he were out and about on the street in terms of his clothes. He wears a simple short sleeved green blouse with a pair of linen breeches and pigskin moccasins. Common clothes to be sure, and no where near as exotic as his colleagues; however, the state of his body is something left to be desired, and would garner attention immediately, His entire left side is horribly scared with his ear and forearm missing; nothing but a stump of scared flesh. Over his missing eye he wears an eye patch. His long brown hair is pulled into a ponytail and his myrtle green eye shimmer with mischief.
"Samuel my dear," Phoebe says sweetly, "How are you?"
"Oh luv I'm fine," The fox floats over to her. Taking her hand, he places a ginger kiss upon it. "You look positively stunnin'."
"Oh you charmer!" She giggls. He looks to the rest of them and offers them all a hello. When he got to Theodore, Samuel just about lost his composure. He lands, and squats down to stare at the angry Theodore.
"Are we sure we can't keep 'im like this?" He cackles. He receives a head butt to the shin from Theodore, and he began to chase Samuel about the Eye with a homicidal look about his face.
"As funny as it is to see him like this my dear, perhaps it would be best if he were normal?" Balthazar suggests as he watches the fox dodge headbutts. Vladimira, in the middle of taking a sip of wine, snaps her fingers again and Theodore shifts back to his old self right as he was in the middle of charging for Samuel. Not loosing his momentum, he crashes into the fox and lands on top of him.
Theodore pinned Samuel down with an angry look, but Samuel just stared back with a shit-eating grin, "My my my... Theodore de Lycra! You look positively stunnin' from this angle... Can I buy you dinner?!"
There is a resounding slap and Thyristor fought back a guffaw as Theodore walks away from the scuffle with a red face towards the chaise.
"I hope you're happy!" He squeaks out and sits between the two women. Fiona pinches the bridge of her nose; laughing at the antics. Vladimira simply filled his glass of wine with magic. He gladly took it but still refused to stare at her.
"Of course, my dear. Seeing you red in the face always makes my day," Vladimira responds with a smirk before taking a sip. Samuel mutters something under his breath as he levitates himself up into a cross legged position; he rubs his sore face but never lost his grin.
Eight of the nine Magna Tor were now assembled within the room. The only one left was the Archon--their Leader. Vladimira eyes them all. Some of them, like Korrigan, Balthazar, and Phoebe, were Magna Tor even when she was an apprentice. She was by far the youngest of them all at ninety-eight, and her colleagues' ages were anywhere from a one to thee centuries; give or take a decade or two. Only Korrigan was the eldest at well over seven hundred, but he passed the living stage long ago when he turned himself into a lich. Age did not matter when you were among the Magna Tor; only power mattered, and Vladimira has enough to spare for the others to respect her for that simple fact. It was why she was given this position, after all.
There is another crack and a portal of milky ivory appeared for a brief second before an armored snowy white barn owl steps through it using a swordstaff as a cane. The silver blade sparkles as glowing yellow runes dance across its surface with an impossibly sharp edge. The cross guard is inlaid with a sapphire on either side, and the guards themselves are shaped into the heads of serpents clutching yellow orbs in their mouths. They coil down around each other to form the shaft. The pommel of which was firmly planted into the stone floor. Cradled in his right arm is a forty-seven inch long sword in a similar extravagant style as the swordstaff only the blade coursed with crackling magical energy. Over his head he wears a white cowl with gold embroidery with a barbute under it. A gorget that grips his neck and a bevor keep his neck and throat safe from harm. The owl wears a large belt with the sigil of the Magisterium: An eye within a pentagram that lay between two concentric circles. Between the spaces of the circle was Ancient Elvish script.
Everyone stands silently as the Eye undulated in the middle; the only sounds made were the shuffling of the owl's armor. The Eye reacted to this man's presence, and shifted it's color to that of pure white and illuminated the entirety of the room. It changed from the void of space, to that of a seemingly endless field with tall yellow grass and a cloudless sky.
"So," he begins; his voice orotund and gruff, "Here we all are. Apologies for being late..." He trails off as he suddenly let go of his weapons; they then began to float off out of the way. The owl regards each person in assembly with a smile. This is Aloïs d'Aramitz; Archon of the Magisterium, and the Knight-General of the holy Order of Eroth. "It is good to see you my Magna Tor."
"Archon." They all said unanimously. Vladimira stood up, glass of wine still in hand as she walked towards the glowing orb of arcane energy in the middle of the field they were in.
"You have called this Sabbath, Magna Hoenheim. For you to do so means that something is amiss... Please, tell us what troubles you," implores Aloïs.
Vladimira doesn't take long to begin her explanation. "You've all felt that horrible disturbance within the ley lines I trust? The one that felt like the very fires of Sheol engulfed you? The cause of it came right upon my doorstep... And you are all in for quite the treat." She reaches out her hand and conjures the vision of a young fox teen sitting with his mother on an extravagant bed. Samuel bolts and flies to the orb to get a closer look.
"Annalise!?" marveles Samuel at the vision of the white vixen, "She's alive!"
"But who is that with her?" Theodore inquires, inspecting the image closely.
"Her son, Derek," answers Vladimira, "They had just arrived from Grossvergwendel..."
"That's where that disturbance was!" Thyristor exclaimes. Aloïs remains quiet as his Magna Tor spoke among themselves.
"Are you telling us that Annalise was behind that explosion?" Fiona scoffs at Vladimira. The rest of the Magna Tor turn the human woman as she continues to speak, "She is powerful to be sure, but not that powerful! I got letters from the leywalkers of Xian Fei saying they felt it! That's on the other side of the world! Only one of us could have done that!"
As ever was her style, Vladimira Hoenheim hints at her meaning but does not outright say it. "Ah... but one of us did do that, my dear."
Fiona looks to the two foxes; tilting her head in confusion she thought at what the bad meant. When it dawns on her, her eyes became wide with horror. "No..."
"Yes my fellow Magna," Vladimira affirms her fears. She finishes her wine and savors the taste. "That young boy there is responsible for that power, and his father is the reason."
By now the other Magna Tor are visibly disturbed at the realization of who this young boy is. Even Korrigan, the normally unblinking and eerie lich, looked fearful of the young boy.
"This boy," Aloïs mumbles with a distraught face, "is _his_son?"
Samuel von Sallé's face grew pale underneath his red fur. Things couldn't get much worse.