Archmagus Oberon sipped his ale contentedly and wiggled his toes, jingling the bells on the end of his tailored boots. With eyes closed, he traced the galaxies of the cosmos as they moved through his mind, looking for patterns and meaning in the stars.

Ah yes, the violet giant comes into ascendency in the Halls of Memory…

Interference from the Psychic Leap continues to disturb the Purple Wizards. No doubt the Blues will be pushing their technology again despite the cyborg debacle…

Indeed, observe the celestial sparks in the depths of Aurelia’s asteroid belt. And what’s this? Planetary orbits stretching around a flaring red dwarf – conflict brewing between the Citadel and Red Wizard Capital? Something to keep an eye on during proceedings. Well, as long as nobody interferes with the plans for the Carnival of Desert Flowers before I get back to the Riviera, they can scheme away to their hearts’ content…

Footsteps in the corridor brought Oberon out of his reverie. Carl hiccupped loudly and Oberon frowned at his familiar. The dirt rabbit had been overindulging again while his wizard was away with the stars. Carl belched loudly and stared back at his master impassively, if slightly cross-eyed.

Wizard #3917 pushed open the door and walked confidently into the Archmagus’s chambers, not bothering to knock before entering. Oberon raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, choosing instead to drink from his mug and casually smooth the glistening fabric of his yellow elven cloak. He would not give Apollo the satisfaction of rising to the bait so blatantly cast in his direction.

Apollo walked over and sat down in the chair opposite Oberon, placing his elbows on his knees and looking at him over steepled fingers. Oberon took another sip, inspecting his fingernails.

Eventually, Apollo cleared his throat. “Not even going to offer me a drink to soothe my parched throat, Oberon? I did not think the Haven had grown so miserly with their hospitality.”

Oberon snorted. “We are not in Yellow Wizard Haven, Scryer, in case you hadn’t noticed. And I reserve my hospitality for those who merit it.”

Apollo chuckled and withdrew his mug from his robes, then reached over and helped himself to Oberon’s pitcher on the table. “I suspected you might say that, so I came prepared.” He took a swig, swirling the mug and eyeing its contents studiously.

Oberon glared at him. “Why are you here Apollo? I know this isn't a social visit.”

Apollo considered the Yellow Wizard before speaking. “I wonder if you've seen what's been happening outside of your precious Haven, Oberon. Even the Ducks grow restless and mutter, where they think we don’t hear, about the evil of sorcery and spells. What have you divined in the stars?”

“I see many things, Scryer, as I'm sure you do, including the machinations of Rudimentals. Why don't you cut to the chase? I am not a dishcloth from which you can wring information like dirty water.”

"Come now,” said Apollo. “You must have heard of the wizards abandoning their guilds to join some rogue magic-maker. True, they have put many of our most dangerous foes in the Weird House, but what of all the wizards vanishing, never to be seen or heard from again? Are they responsible for that too, or are there other forces at work? The Council must urgently consider this matter; it imperils us all."

The Scryer waited, expecting a response, but Oberon said nothing. Apollo’s face darkened as he continued passionately: "By the runes and the stars, Oberon, we cannot sit passively by while these... these... upstarts drain all of our talent! It makes the Council look like indecisive fools! For all we know they mean to overthrow the Council! With your backing, I can unite the guilds."

Oberon tapped a finger against the rim of his mug meditatively. When he spoke, he weighed the importance of every word. "I have seen these events, and more, Scryer. Which is how I know that you know exactly who is behind all of this."

Apollo opened his mouth, seemingly ready to argue, but then closed it again and frowned. "Then you know she must be stopped! I have thought to reason with her, but she is impossible to find. And besides…”

Oberon could see he was struggling over whether or not to go on. The Archmagus sat in silence, watching Apollo. The Scryer scrubbed angrily at his beard. “She stopped listening to me a long time ago. She is totally out of control!” He sighed. “Alone, the Bastion is helpless to stop her. Who knows where this might end?”

Apollo blinked as he realised he had revealed more than he had intended. He paused for a moment, then narrowed his eyes and spoke again. “I’ve seen visions. She has been at the Empress’ side for half a turning of the planets. How long do you think it will be before she is done with the Citadel and turns her attention to Chronomancer’s Riviera? I would say the Yellows are right in her path. So, can I count on your support tomorrow when I address the Council? And also... your discretion?"

Oberon laughed. “Yes, it would do little for your credibility as head of the Blue guild if the Council were to find out that you can’t even control one of your own. They do so terribly resent rogue wizards. And you’ve already got that psychotic cyborg out there to contend with."

Scryer Apollo's eyebrows almost flew off his face. "You... you know about that?" he stammered.

Oberon watched the Blue Wizard smugly. “A hundred wizards or more snatched from each of the seven guilds, and you are surprised? I would be worried about how many others know of your little failed experiment.” He tutted. “Really, Apollo, trying to blame the actions of this skeletal monstrosity you created on your own daughter?” From the rug, Carl twitched his ears and gave the Scryer a disdainful look.

“That is not…” Apollo shouted, but then clamped his mouth shut and closed his eyes, taking a long, slow breath. When he opened them again, he spoke calmly. "Very well Oberon, tell me what you want."

Leaning back in his armchair, the Archmagus smiled and let out a long and satisfied sigh. "Ah, now there’s the rub.” He fixed the Scryer with eyes that were suddenly steely. “What I want, Apollo, is access to the Blue Bastion’s knowledge, and custody of Bathsheba as soon as she is captured.”

Story Arc Index:

Prologue: Wizard #3914

Part 1: Pony #77

Part 2: Wizard #2877

Part 3: Wizard #1175

Part 4: Wizard #3901

Part 5: Wizard #4841

Part 6: Wizard #2885

Part 7: Wizard #3917

Part 8: Wizard #6084

Entered by: 0x24D7…e52b and preserved on chain (see transaction)