Scryer Apollo stood and walked to the lectern as the presiding wizard called his name. He looked around the horseshoe-shaped table at the assembled council members – several delegates from each guild, many of them clustered together, side-eyeing the other guilds.

Apollo had been diligent in the days leading up to the Council, presenting his arguments to others who he thought he could win over to his side. He was confident at least some of them would back him, yet he still needed Wizard #3901. The Yellow Wizard held far too much sway with the Council… Apollo was sure the invitations Oberon regularly extended to other guilds to indulge themselves in Chronomancer’s Riviera didn’t hurt. The debauchery of the Riviera was notorious; Oberon no doubt held secrets like an axe over the necks of many wizards at this table.

Apollo turned his attention to the Councilmembers: “Brothers, sisters, let us set aside our differences. It may not seem obvious to all, but we approach a time of crisis for all magic-makers. For the last few planetary cycles, Calista’s Citadel has been secretly mustering its strength… Now the Empress has aid from the outside, from this interloper who draws wizards to her side like flies to rotting meat. These deserters weaken all the guilds, and lest we forget, many other wizards have disappeared without a trace over the last two cycles.”

Apollo paused meaningfully, surveying the crowd, although he wavered as his eyes met Oberon’s. The Archmagus smiled at him smugly.

Apollo cleared his throat and continued. “It is said, comrades, that even the Key Master supports this rogue witch. His familiar, Derek the Sphinx, passes back and forth through the Infinity Veil at will, prowling those reaches at the behest of the Key Master. The sphinx is feasting on the minds of wizards lost to the Psychic Leap. Why should we trust them? The Purple guild knows well the dangers of the Leap, what say you Wizard #1827?”

A strong-faced sorceress in elegant purple aristocratic robes gave Apollo a wry smile, stroking the black cat on her lap as she spoke: “The claws of the Leap may scratch at our minds, Scryer, but the sphinx holds no fear for the living.”

She shook her head, making waves of thick purple and black hair bounce around her face. Light flashed off her intricate golden earrings and the gold stud in her prominent nose. “No Apollo, Wizard #777 has guarded the Gate to the Seventh Realm honourably since before history began, protecting us from the horrors beyond. We may have our differences, but nobody can question his motivations.”

“Exactly what he would have us believe!” replied Apollo, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “I say that we have always diminished ourselves by living in the Key Master’s shadow! For too long have wizards from all guilds vanished with no trace, while he does nothing to stop it! For too long have rogues and separatists been allowed free reign across our territories! The time has come to make a stand!”

Archmagus Alessar and the rest of the White guild had their heads together, speaking in hushed tones. Apollo noted a few others in the different factions around the table conversing, and there were a few murmurs of approval from around the room.

Emboldened, he continued. “And now the Citadel’s army of dark sorcerers, creatures of the Quantum Shadow, and craven Ducks amasses to the south of Alessar’s Keep…”

“And what have we to do with Alessar’s Keep or Rudimentals?” interjected another voice from the assembly. “I say let them tend to their own defences!”

“Do not be a fool, brother, do you not see that the Citadel means to usurp us all? Do you think they will stop once the Keep falls? But we shall not bow before this threat. We must unite and crush these invaders who threaten our way of life.”

The Brown Wizard threw his hands in the air. “Bah! We have no interest in the intrigues and machinations of the other guilds. I have a snurtle farm to tend to and the blood grapes are almost ready for harvest. It would seem to me that the Reds stand to lose the most… they are the Citadel’s neighbours and after all, aren’t they the ones always dabbling in another man’s potions? Let them interfere in the Keep’s business, should be right up their street.”

Angry murmurs rose from the Red guild, but Apollo raised his arms for quiet and shot Oberon a glare. The fool was supposed to be backing his case! He had already been pressured into parting with some very sensitive information on the research being conducted in the Bastion, and he would be crushed beneath the Runes before he let the old goat rinse him like this.

“Archmagus Oberon… you have something to contribute from the Yellow Wizards?”

Oberon yawned and slowly got to his feet, waving a hand condescendingly at Apollo. The Scryer gritted his teeth. He could not risk upsetting the balance… not yet.

“Hear me now, council members. It is true that the Blues have not been the most trustworthy allies in the past… particularly Scryer Apollo. But we do not have to like him to know what he says is true…”

Apollo’s face darkened as he struggled to suppress his anger at this sleight on his character. Oberon continued smoothly.

“The Citadel has yearned for its former days of glory for centuries and the new Empress claims to be Calista reincarnated. This alone tells us that she seeks conquest – she is invoking the name of the greatest military sorceress in history!”

Oberon’s assertion was met with a few snorts of derision from some of the Red Wizards, but most of his audience were now listening with more interest. The Yellow Wizard nodded thoughtfully, then continued. “Yes, you see now that this is a plight we cannot ignore. The longer we leave the Citadel to strengthen, the bolder its leader will become. But we are not warriors. It is not our way to storm a city’s walls. Besides, they are protected by Calista's ancient magic. No, brothers and sisters… we need somebody on the inside, with an intimate knowledge of the city and access to the Empress.”

He paused. “Luckily for us all, I have just such a person.” Oberon smiled in satisfaction at the look of bewilderment on the Scryer’s face, then stepped aside. A bearded Sage with a ruby staff and a feather in his hat emerged stealthily from the shadows.

“Council members, allow me to introduce Wizard #2885.”

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)