Markham III
One by one the Masters of each Kingdom signed their vote and snapped their fingers. Each snap transmuted paper into air, then air to paper again within the lockbox atop the podium. With every vote the box flashed a faint white light and every time it flashed Markham couldn't help but stare. His mind raced with possibilities and doubts.
"Perhaps this was a mistake. No, this could be the discovery of a lifetime! Damn them if they say nay. The sheer power of this magic could save or destroy entire Kingdoms. We should not only study it but preserve it! The things we could do... This could push our knowledge of the Arcane forward hundreds of years if it's as powerful as we believe it to be. Not to mention whereever it came from. Could it ACTUALLY be some sort of divine magic? No, the divine don't meddle like that. They never have!" Markham's thoughts were cut short by the Grand Master's voice.
"All votes have been accumulated, yes? Then let us tally them and reach a verdict!"
Grand Master Cazbin raised his hand and the lock on the box dropped to the floor with a loud metallic clang. As it opened the papers within began to rise as one big deck, then the counting began. The votes were shown to the crowd one at a time, a slow and grueling process to Markham. Grand Master Cazbin could easily have them tallied in one wrist flick but then again as he and Elandra spoke of, the masters do love their theatrics. Several went past, various Aye's and Nay's were spoken by Grand Master Cazbin, who was reading each vote allowed. Markham scanned the room until his eyes were fixed on Master Quinlan. Three nay's were spoken in a row, resulting in a grin from Quinlan. Then two more aye's came from the Grand Master's mouth. On and on the list went soon enough it wasn't so close after all. Five aye's came, ten more, twenty more. A nay sprinkled here and there between but it was now very clear what the conclusion would be. Out of the corner of his eye, Markham spotted him. Master Quinlan stood and hurriedly left the chamber.
"No doubt he will report back to the usurper, the bastard. Bright side for me, itll take a day or two beforeany information regarding me reaches Zandrinia." Markham thought to himself, annoyed. Then his eyes drifted to his love, Elandra. She sat back in her seat with a worried expression on her face. She didn't like this one bit. Being exposed to the Zandrinian forces, Volunteering for something nobody understood anything about. Markham could hear her in his head already.
"Why don't you ever think before you act! This isn't just your life anymore! It's ours! We have a daughter!" And she was right. However Markham would do what he always did and poke and prod her just for the fun of it. Perhaps he would really annoy her with the "Well we aren't married, Elandra." And she would hit him and demand a ring like always. It's not that Markham didn't want to get married to Elandra there was just so much to be done! Teaching children, raising a child, studying magic, politics back home, a ranting and raving brother who saw elves and half elves as lesser beings was a large factor as well. At the end of the day he just never found the time to tell his brother that he regularly made love to an elf then spawned a child that he loved dearly. Or at least that's what he liked to tell himself. In reality he just wanted to keep them safe. A high profile action like marriage would have put them under a microscope. But it seems now that wasn't an issue anymore. Perhaps now would be the time for a ring.
Grand Master Cazbin clapped his hands and the papers erupted into fire. Markham jumped a bit after being lost in thought. Now, before his eyes, born from the paper's fire were the numbers of votes from each side displayed proudly in the air. They crackled in bright red flames and read 197-103. It wasn't the vote Markham was hoping for but it was in his favor all the same and that was what mattered. There was no doubt in his mind that the majority of the nay's were caused by Zandrinian indoctrination to despise him and his family for his late brother's xenophobia and other abysmal political action. But it didn't matter now, he won this round. And by Zandrine, he would show them exactly who he was. Just then Markham was clapped on the back by Grand Master Cazbin, with a hearty laugh.
"There you go, my boy! You have your permission, the council abides. Now address them!" Cazbin spoke with a large grin, clearly quite proud of his pupil.
Markham shifted his weight around a bit then stood tall to address the people. Now was the time.
"I thank you all for your confidence in me, my fellow Master's of the Magic arts! Those that declared nay, I will prove to you that this was the right decision! Beginning immediately I will begin assembling my team and we will leave-"
Suddenly something in the air shifted. The room became heavy and a sense of dread filled the Master's hearts. Then it began, the fires from the braziers went out and smoke rose into the night sky. A dim blue light took place of the red flames, filling the room completely. Everyone in the lecture hall froze and tilted their heads upwards as the blue and orange ball of flame was passing overhead. But more was to come as it streaked across the night sky. A loud shriek filled the ears of all in attendance. It was so deafeningly loud the masters held their hands to their ears. Some held their foreheads in pain and fell to their knees. Grand Master Cazbin began to fall to his knees as well, when Markham caught him, toughing out the pain in his head to hold up the aging Devilkin. Finally, for a brief moment many of the masters ceased all movement. Their eyes glossed over and they smiled. Then, in an instant it was all over.