Fate is the ordering of secondary causes to effects seen by God.

–Saint Augustine

Myrddin climbed in total darkness. The mage had no need of light, for, even though his lifewarmth sight did him little good here, he knew his way easily. Withal, he climbed slowly through the stone tower's inky spiral interior. Although only a little over seven ages – sixty-three summers – old, and still, for a sorcerer, a relative youth, Myrddin felt his age like never before. Pausing to caress the cool basalt, latent power flickered in recognition; here, the only place he truly belonged.

Magical forces imbued in the ethereal stone spire lent the mage strength to shamble up the remaining smooth steps. Indeed, the subliminal vibrations emanating from deep within the bowels of Corannus Watch sustained the very life of a Coranéid, the magically transformed race of magicians to which he belonged.

In addition to being Master of the Watch, Myrddin claimed the title of Artium Magister Arcanum: Master of the Magical Arts; mayhap the most powerful archimage the Lands had ever known.

At last, Myrddin sensed his destination. Halting in the blackness by sense upon a narrow landing, he knew he faced a featureless wall of smooth black rock. Hesitating momentarily, murmured a few arcane words. A low, arched portal appeared in the wall, outlined by the amethyst glow of benign magic. Ducking his tall, spare frame under the stone lintel, Myrddin slid inside. The small round room held no furnishings. Nonetheless, recognisable by any initiate, thaumaturgic runes and symbols pulsed on bare walls, ceiling, even basalt floor; raw power muttered from without. The sum effect belied the Circle Chamber's otherwise crude austerity.

Once more Myrddin spoke quiet words charged with arcane life: "Vola, fiat lux, emphatorem." The chamber glowed brighter; hum swelled to a murmur. Not long to wait ere subtle shifts in the sanctum's balanced energies signalled the arrival of the Keepers. One by one they appeared: Uriel, Gabriel, Michael, Raphael manifested as seemingly identical auras of pale azure; the signatures of the guardians of purest good and law. Alternating with these, the scarlet aspects of Asmodeus, Lucifer, Beëlzebul, and Belial, representatives of deepest chaos and evil, leached into the chamber. Soon, the magical essences in the room blended once more into a neutral purpure.

Myrddin addressed them: "Lords, the Master of Corannus Watch recognises the presence of each of the Keepers. I would declare the Circle convened." Although Myrddin spoke to the other-planar beings in a low, respectful tone, he felt no fear – nor even awe – in their company. Added, though he already knew, "I await disclosure of the subject for discussion."

Lucifer replied first: I sayeth again he ought to kneel in the presence of his superiors. The disembodied voice thrust directly into Myrddin's mind.

That be not the purpose of this Circle, Lord Lucifer, interposed Uriel. The solar's voice-thought was scarcely less harsh than the archdevil's.

Raphael took his cue. We believe thou art apprised of the topic, Master Myrddin. Thou hast declared the Circle complete, and yet this is surely our dilemma: We have been too long without a Ninth to complete our Ennead. Ever since the Christus left us... Yet, we have come to a decision: Thou must bring our new choices to us – when satisfactorily prepared.

Myrddin stroked the waxy skin of his beardless chin with a long-nailed finger; elliptical pupils expanded and contracted with alternate pulses of diametric power. Idly pushed a wisp of silver hair under the hood of his lavender robes. He decided not to quibble about Raphael miscasting his meaning by replacing the word 'convened' with 'complete'. A long, resigned breath. "Very well," he acceded. "I shall do as you ask – as is my duty as Master. Who might be the entities?"

He listened as the Keepers told him how they intended him to bring a succession of candidates either into existence or at least into the Circle for consideration to be chosen as a Ninth for their Ennead. Though surprised, his hairless brow rose only a little when he heard how certain aspects of their plan would intimately involve him.

Know this, as well, Coranéid, grated Beëlzebul. Ye will see to it that the Ninth's destiny is never explicated.

Myrddin gave a mental shrug. He knew that the Keeper meant that he could not hint, much less advise, that any subject follow a path of so-called good or evil or anything-in-between; the Ninth must, as mentored by unapprised tutors both formal and lay, be permitted near-total freedom to find their own way in the world ethos.

"You know aught of human nature," the mage opined, unsure why he deigned to offer an opinion at all, as it would make no difference. Yet, he simply couldn't remain silent. And the Keepers could read most of his thoughts anyway. "'Tis not a simple thing for humans and their kin to remain aloof, unmoved by those of influence and power. Only the rarest – ofttimes, saddest – may remain indifferent."

Belial mentally snorted. Ye be hardly human, Myrddin Mageorn. What do ye know of human nature?

The Coranéid, though not stung by the gibe, took the bait regardless. "More than you, I shall wager. I at least was once human."

Think ye that none of us were? sneered Asmodeus. Mayhap not all—

"Not as recently as—"

Nevertheless, Uriel interrupted, thou wilt do thy duty, Myrddin Mageorn. Thou hast admitted that thou canst do no less.

The sorcerer contorted waxy features into a facsimile of a wry face. "The Circle's confidence in me is appreciated. I trust it shall be rewarded." He knew the Keepers were aware that he was disinclined toward this aspect of his duty as Master of the Watch. Nonetheless, sarcasm seemed lost on the beings as they acknowledged his acceptance and simultaneously dissolved from the Chamber.

For a time the mage stood alone in the presiding silence. Turned and retraced his route down the tower steps. Even more slowly, this time.