The sleek black car came to a halt before the Magistrate building. Glass, stone and metal twisted into spiraling spires that pierced the sky, a symbol of magic and non-magic intertwined. The building seemed to defy gravity, the towers sticking out at impossible angles. Sunlight glinted off the glass, casting shimmering reflections that danced across the polished stone. Intricate metalwork adorned the structure, forming mesmerizing patterns that hinted at ancient symbols.
Daron got out of the car onto the bustling sidewalk, his eyes immediately drawn to the imposing building towering over him. Across from him, Laurence emerged with his usual air of playful confidence, his piercing eyes glinting in the sunlight. He waved Daron to come and bounded up the steps, his ponytail swishing behind him with each energetic step. Daron followed suit, as their ride drove off into the distance. The imposing structure before them exuded an air of power and sophistication, making Daron feel both intimidated and exhilarated at the same time.
"By the way, is the car MagiTech too?" Daron wondered, still marveling at the Magistrate.
Laurence nodded. "Of course. Only the best for us." He flashed a playful grin.
A few steps later they reached the entrance at the top of the stairway.
"Welcome to the seat of magical power… and bureaucracy" Laurence declared with a flourish.
Daron gazed around the grand foyer in awe. Magicians and officials bustled together with ordinary people, the air filled with a multitude of voices. Daron pulled his sleeves further down over his scarred arms.
Laurence wove effortlessly through the bustling crowd, his steps sure and purposeful. Daron struggled to keep pace, dodging people engrossed in animated conversations, their arms full of documents.
"Is it always this busy?" Daron marveled, sidestepping a cart with what appeared to be letters.
"The cogs of the government never stop turning," Laurence said carefree over his shoulder. "Especially not with the recent unrest."
They approached an elevator.
As they entered, Laurence held a small card against an unseen scanner. "Top floor, please," he announced to the empty air.
"Identification confirmed. Access granted, Sage Massfield," a disembodied voice responded.
As the elevator ascended, Daron's thoughts raced. He fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve, his fingers brushing against the slightly raised edges of his scars.
"You okay?" Laurence's voice cut through the silence.
Daron forced a smile. "Yeah, just... nervous, I guess."
The elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors opened onto a brightly lit hallway. Laurence stepped out, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor. Daron followed.
They navigated a labyrinth of corridors, each turn revealing a new set of doors and passageways.
"How do you not get lost here?" Daron thought out loud.
Laurence grinned. "Years of practice, and a bit of luck."
At last, they reached a set of towering double doors, intricately carved with swirling patterns that seemed to shift before Daron's eyes. A woman sat at a desk beside the doors, her gaze sharp and assessing.
"Sage Massfield," she greeted. "The council is expecting you."
Laurence flashed her a disarming smile. "Thank you, my dear Cherryl. Always a pleasure to encounter you. We won't keep them waiting."
A slight blush appeared on Cherryl's serious face as they approached the doors.
Daron felt the nervousness overwhelming him. He tried to distract himself thinking back to the car ride on their way to the heart of the Citadel. Laurence had given Daron a rundown of the Magistrate's government structure. He tried to remember it correctly.
The council is composed of eight members, each representing a different god and their followers. These individuals hold the honorary title of their respective deity and are referred to as 'Chairs'.
The Chancellor, a Plainborn chosen by the mundane human majority, serves as the Science Chair and essentially acts as the head of human government. The council is responsible for decisions regarding the Citadel and its bureaucracy. To ensure fairness and proper procedure, a notary occupies a ninth position, but holds no power in votes.
Attendance at meetings is not mandatory for all Chairs; as long as there is a quorum and a majority vote can be reached, meetings may proceed without certain members. However, for important matters, every Chair must attend and a unanimous decision must be reached.
That was it, right? Did I forget something?
Laurence noticed Daron's brow furrowing as he recalled the information and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Ready?"
Daron pushed the thought aside and nodded, his jaw set. "Let's do this."
The doors opened and they stepped into the council chamber.
The chamber was a marvel of architecture, with a soaring dome that seemed to touch the heavens. Light streamed in through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the polished marble floor. In the center of the room stood a massive wooden counter, curved in a half-circle with eight seats, looming over the petitioners below. On the side, there was a smaller table with a modestly dressed woman sitting behind it, surrounded by an abundance of papers and files. Daron's eyes widened as he took in the grandeur of the space. His steps faltered, but Laurence's steady presence beside him urged him forward.
As they approached the counter, Daron's gaze was drawn to the three figures seated behind it, each emanating an aura of power and authority.
Laurence bowed his head respectfully. "Light Chair Driscoll, Life Chair Blumenthal, Sea Chair Nile. Thank you for granting us this audience."
Driscoll, a stern-looking man with neatly trimmed grey hair and a golden robe, was seated in the middle. He regarded them with a piercing gaze. "Sage Massfield," he said, his voice echoing through the chamber. "We have been expecting you."
Next to him sat Blumenthal, a woman with flowing brunette hair adorned with delicate flowers, smiling serenely. "Of course, Sage Massfield. We are always eager to hear from the Special Magic Force."
The last of the three, Nile, was a muscular man with sun-tanned skin and a dark blue robe. He leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And who might this young man be?" he asked, gesturing to Daron.
Daron felt a lump form in his throat as all eyes turned to him. He glanced at Laurence, who gave him an encouraging nod.
"My name is Daron Lamb," he said, his voice sounding small in the vast chamber. "I... I'm here because my parents were murdered by a cult, which then abducted me. After weeks in their captivity, Mr. Massfield saved me and offered to help find the culprits and hold them accountable."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Driscoll's brows furrowed, his expression unreadable. Blumenthal's eyes softened with sympathy.
Nile leaned back in his seat, thoughtfully stroking his chin. "So this is the boy from your report," he remarked with a shake of his head. "I must admit, I was shocked when I read it."
Daron kept his eyes trained on the floor, avoiding the judgmental stares of the council members. He couldn't help but wonder what details Laurence had included in his report.
"A grave matter indeed," Driscoll continued. "But what makes you think this boy can aid in your investigation, Sage Massfield?"
Laurence stepped forward, his voice ringing with conviction. "I believe Daron possesses a rare magical talent, Light Chair Driscoll. One that I believe could be invaluable in our fight against the forces of chaos. With the council's approval, I request that Daron becomes a new Pawn."