The old High Lord had died.

The Guild had been buzzing with rumours and speculations ever since.

Akkarin had not partaken in the discussions. He had, however, begun to wonder at a comment Balkan had made the other evening in the Night Room. Lord Garrel had opted for the position as High Lord which was to be expected. And Akkarin had noted that, as expected, only a few members of the Guild were openly thrilled about the idea. Lord Garrel was overambitious and most Guild members felt that he was a little too eager. But so far no other Magicians had openly volunteered for the position.

One of the rare supporters for Garrel, Lord Fergun, had mentioned Lord Garrel's age as an asset and the other Magicians had reluctantly nodded in agreement. But Lord Balkan had cleared his throat and said "Age does not matter when the required strength, wisdom, and manners are present in abundance" and had looked pointedly at Akkarin. Akkarin had met his gaze levelly, and in doing so had felt the other Magicians' stares as well, although the remark had caught him off guard.

Later on, back in his rooms, the remark and the respectful way the other Magicians has looked at him, had sparked a fire. As High Lord, he would be able to gain access to people and information concerning the safety of not only the Guild but of Kyralia and the Allied Lands as well. He would be able to study what ever was of interest to him and there was a great many subjects that interested him. Subjects that he did not want anybody to know about let alone question. The High Lord lived in the High Lord's Residence and he would not mind the reclusive lifestyle and neither would Takan. A High Lord would also be allowed, perhaps expected even to act a little eccentric. That would give him more time alone which was appealing. He found the social life in the Guild shallow and tiresome but he attended it because it was expected of him. As High Lord he could make his own social choices and create his own preferred life style.

The prospect of being elected High Lord certainly opened up for a whole new life. His manners as Balkan had referred to were shaped from a privileged childhood and youth in wealth and of five years in slavery. He had always been headstrong and full of ideas. He still was but now he was also quiet and attentive. And he knew there was something about him that made people listen to him and some to feel slightly uneasy around him as well. This solemn presence of his was not caused by slavery but naturally, the years in Sachaka made him appear harsher than before. The years had sharpened his mind as well his looks. It was a part of his personality which in fact could be an asset if he were to become leader of the Guild.

Then there was the strength. Of course his phenomenal strength originated from black magic. He had not used it since those five months ago but still he was far stronger than anybody in the Guild.

He could have spent the power. He could have strengthened the Arena and the thought had occurred to him. Several times. But he hadn't. He knew he should not fear the Ichanis anymore but still the danger of what if lurked in the back of his mind.

Balkan had sensed his strength during the numerous practise bouts between the two of them. But before he had left the Guild, Akkarin had been one of the strongest Magicians, if not the strongest. In other words, even without black magic he would be eligible if he chose to run for the position. Furthermore he would never abuse his knowledge of black magic. And there was sense in the idea of the High Lord actually knowing what was required should black magic ever become an actual threat to the Guild.

Sighing he fumbled with the black arm band. The ceremony for remembrance in honour of the belated High Lord was to take place in an hour and every Magician was to wear the traditional black band. He called out for Takan for assistance.

"Yes, Master?"

Akkarin sighed. He had accepted Takan's stubborn way of continuing to call him by that name whenever they were alone.

"Would you help me, please?" Akkarin said and turned towards Takan handing out the band. Quickly Takan tied the tiny black sash around Akkarin's left arm.

Most of the time, Takan stayed inside and Akkarin didn't mind Takan being a recluse. He was teaching Takan to read and Takan was beginning to be able to read books by himself now. Naturally, he preferred to read about the Kyralian cuisine. Living here in the Magicians Building did not give him an opportunity to cook the food himself, though.

Akkarin felt certain that Takan would enjoy living at the High Lord's Residence being in charge of a kitchen of his own. Akkarin would make sure that Takan would be able to cook every possible dish he could ever think of.

He noted Takan watching him and smiled at him. Takan frowned but nodded slightly.

Well, well, well, seems I have made my choice.