Disclaimer: I don't own any IPs that might appear in the story
The Council of Thirteen
Book Two: The Twelfth Lord
Founding of the Council
One-shot
Beta:
In the middle of the hidden Sanctuary that the Council had carved for magical refugees amidst the frozen wastes of Antarctica and more importantly sat on one of the world's most powerful leyline nexuses, an old man with a long white beard and bushy eyebrows, perpetually dressed in a pointed hat, robes and cloak that were all a blinding white in color, sat inside the small chamber at the top of the stout tower and looked out through a window at the verdant valley it overlooked.
"To this day, I am amazed at what we've created here." The ancient being that was the old man and the Twelfth Lord of the Thirteen said with a proud smile and took a sip of the cup of herbal tea he'd been nursing as he enjoyed the view.
A feat that he only managed thanks to the location of his tower. The Sanctuary being one of only a handful of places where a spirit like him was able to create a projection that was truly solid without much effort. It almost made him regret allowing his original body to be consumed when he had become the Twelfth Lord by binding himself to the Compact that empowered the Thirteen.
Almost.
Someone had to make the sacrifice to become, in the parlance of the current times, the Compact's system administrator and guide it as it empowered and selected his fellows among the Council. And even after all this time, he still considered it a small price considering the order the Council of Thirteen had brought to the magical world.
That did not mean that he did not occasionally have moments when he questioned the decision and as he looked out at the valley and more importantly its inhabitants in the distance enjoying their lives knowing he could never truly partake of that ever again… One such moment came over him and his mind wandered down memory lane as he reminisced about the events that led up to his current state of being.
Flashback
It was late in the evening and an elderly Mycenaean (1) mage, Arbitore, looked over the blasted landscape left behind by the latest battle in the seemingly endless war between the world's magicals.
"What a pointless waste of life, especially on the eve of the peace conference that might end this conflict." Arbitore lamented with a sad shake of his head.
It had taken literally centuries of negotiations involving generations of peacemakers like Arbitore but finally, all the warring parties were willing to come to the table and yet they were still unwilling to stop their fighting just yet.
"Pointless in our eyes perhaps, but not theirs." His friend, Peng Xian, a younger man generally considered by most to be the most powerful magic user alive, replied as he too surveyed the devastation. "The belligerents involved in this battle were trying to jockey for power so as to up their hand at the upcoming negotiations."
"At the cost of hundreds of lives," The older man said, disgusted.
"Stow away such criticism, Arbitore." Peng Xian warned. "It is unbecoming of one of the key mediators of the upcoming talks."
"I would if I could. I might be the mediator but I am still only human and anyone not disgusted by the horror before me is inhuman."
Despite the grim statement and the terrible vista in front of them, Peng Xian smiled.
"And that is why you are the right man for the job, old friend."
As he sat in the high chair afforded to him as chief mediator of the talks, Arbitore was doubting the faith his friend had expressed in him a day earlier. Discussions had barely begun and things had already devolved into open argument between the various participating factions. He and his fellow peacemakers had not even had the chance to propose the idea that they had come up with to stop the war yet!
Well we can have none of that, the elderly man decided as he flexed his magic to catch the attention of the arguing representatives. It took a moment but between the modest esteem they held for him and the healthy respect for his not inconsiderable power, they quieted and allowed him to speak.
"Might I ask all of you to save discussing your differences for a moment?" Arbitore asked with a teasing smile, calling on humor that he did not truly feel. "You all came here to give peace a chance, so you should at least give it an attempt, no? If these talks fail, I am certain that you will have plenty of time afterwards to return to those discussions through word and action."
This reminder of why they were there mollified the representatives and they calmed down, though some remained visibly unhappy and shot their enemies glares.
Not that I expected any better. Arbitore thought, resisting the urge to sigh. That we managed to gather them all here without bloodshed is a miracle already.
He did not voice such thoughts though, instead seeing that he had things back under control decided to strike whilst the metal was hot and put forward the proposal he and his compatriots had crafted.
"In order to facilitate peace, my fellows would like to propose the formation of a council made out of representatives from all the major warring factions with the authority to adjudicate differences-"
Before Arbitore could even elaborate, one of the representatives scoffed and cut in.
"Do you think that has not been tried?" The man, a nomad from the vast steppes to the East (2), said bitingly. "It has never worked. No belligerent faction would ever bow to the authority of a third party like that. Not for long."
"That is true. History has borne that out." Arbitore agreed. "Which is why our plan calls for all the factions present to make a magical pact and combine their magics to empower the members of this council, effectively making this council a third party powerful enough to enforce its rulings if need be. After all, whilst we obviously do not represent all the magicals of the world, together those of us present today are the most powerful. By a significant margin."
The collected representatives broke into excited discussion at this. All were flattered to be counted as being among the most powerful but despite some looking intrigued at the proposal, the majority were sadly dismissive.
Even if it was expected - No one thought the warring parties would be so easily convinced. - Arbitore still inwardly winced at the cold reception and was tempted to turn to Peng Xian for support but knew that doing so would likely inflame the situation by giving the impression this proposal was all his friend's idea. Not that most did not already think that considering their well known friendship.
Suddenly, the mysterious Lord of Shadows, Jambres the Egyptian, spoke up.
"I support this proposal," the enigmatic man's soft voice carrying throughout the wooden hall in which they were all gathered even over the squabbling of the other delegates thanks to what must have been some subtle magic on his part.
Most of the representatives were shocked by this unexpected event but Arbitore himself was only mildly surprised. The enigmatic Umbral Mage and his clan might have been one of the major belligerents in the unending wars, but ever since he had ascended to the leadership of his family following the death of his father in battle, Jambres had been trying, largely futilely, to disentangle his family from the fighting. Now that he was presented with a real chance at peace, the mediator was not surprised he would seize the opportunity.
"Thank you Lord of Shadows," Arbitore said, giving the man a respectful nod. "But I would behoove you to not make hasty judgements. Perhaps if you and the other delegates allow me to fully expound on the details of our proposal, then we can all make a more informed discussion on the topic?"
This was met by general if unenthusiastic approval. It seemed Jambres' unexpected support for their proposal had fostered enough curiosity among the others to at least hear the plan out in full.
I must really thank him. Arbitore thought even as he began outlining what he and his fellow peacemakers had come up with. If he had not stepped in, it would have likely taken a lot longer just to get the others to agree to listen.
Shortly after the end of the first day of the discussions, Arbitore and Peng Xian arranged to meet the Lord of Shadows in private. Thus after the obligatory feast to mark the end of the day, the three of them retreated to the elderly man's quarters.
"Thank you Jambres for your support earlier." Arbitore said, offering the younger man a grateful bow. "It was unexpected but greatly welcomed."
"Think nothing of it," the pale man said in what was barely above a whisper. "I want an end to the fighting and would have supported any proposal that had a decent chance of success. Even if it is temporary and your plan has the potential to be at least somewhat lasting."
"So you agree that our plan might work?" Peng Xian enquired as he walked over carrying three cups of wine.
"Yes," Jambres said with a nod as he obligingly took a cup. "That is if we can win over the enough of the factions to have enough firepower on board to overpower the others. In that sense, it is no different than any other alliance in this war."
"With one fundamental difference," Arbitore pointed out as he took a cup for himself. "This plan hinges on this new faction being a neutral third party. One bound by magic itself to be impartial."
"And that is precisely this that makes the plan workable." Jambres agreed with a nod. "The warring factions might be war weary but none of them are willing to allow the creation of a force that might be biased and which can use its overwhelming power against them."
"True," Peng Xian agreed as he took a sip of his wine. "And how long do you think it will be before we can get the support we need?"
"That is difficult to predict," Jambres said with a shrug. "But if I was to hazard a guess? We will need another week of wrangling at least. We are surprisingly close, many of the factions are more weary than they let on and the proposal is enticing on its merits alone to many others, but there is plenty of work still to be done before we can have peace."
Jambres' estimate was quite far off the mark and it took a whole month, a incredibly short time in Arbitore's opinion, before they had the fruit of their efforts and he was able to stand before the gathered delegates to read out the terms of the Compact of Thirteen that they'd drafted.
"Article one," Arbitore said with the tone he usually reserved for addressing his apprentices and which he hoped befit the occasion. "The Council established by this Compact will be the supreme abriator of all differences big and small between those who are signatory to the Compact."
Much to Arbitore's personal surprise, this had been accepted without much complaint. Then again, considering this was the core tenet of the Compact, anyone unwilling to abide by it would have simply refused to be a signatory. Something that a few factions had eventually decided to do. Though thankfully not enough to make the Compact's peacemaking goal impossible.
"Article two," the elder continued. "The First Lord will always be the most powerful magic user among the signatories to the Compact."
At this Arbitore briefly glanced to Peng Xian who nodded in grim acceptance
"Article three, one lord will be the vessel of the Compact." Arbitore's breath hitched for a moment as he finished the sentence as he contemplated what it meant for him.
He had no time to ponder it however and taking a steadying breath, he continued with the reading.
"Article four, the position of one of the lords will be held by the Lords of Shadows and his descendants forevermore. They will serve to enforce the sanctity of the Compact by policing the members of the Council, under the oversight of their peers, as well as enforcing its will upon its signatories."
Arbitore glanced at the young Jambres who nodded in resignation. The old man could sympathise. By agreeing to this, the man had dedicated his future and that of his descendants in service to the peace. It was in a way a grander sacrifice than the one Arbitore was making. But it was a necessary one as the Council would always need powerful fighters and tying a martially inclined lineage to its service, one as famed as the Lords of Shadows at that, would fulfil that need perfectly.
Upon learning of Jambres' choice to volunteer for the role, Arbitore had solemnly swore to do everything in his power to look after his line. A vow the old man renewed in his heart once more even as he prepared to continue.
It was the least I can do for the people who would soon become forever known as the bloody hands of the Council.
"Article five. The other lords will be the most worthy as selected by the magic of the Compact itself from amongst its various signatory factions."
"Article six. Each lord excepting the three reserved lords must be broadly representative of the diverse interests of the various signatory factions of the Compact."
These two terms were at once the most contentious and ironically the easiest to get the various factions to accept. On one hand, everyone trusted in the impartial judgement of the magic involved. On the other hand, no one wanted to lose out on a chance at power that being a member of the Council would bring. Hence, the second term which served to ensure that everyone's broad interests, at least, would be reflected by at least one member of the Council at any one time.
It was, in Arbitore's opinion at least, an elegant compromise
"Article seven. Each lord will be imbued with a portion of the Compact's magical power."
This term, originally designed as an incentive to entice signatories, had rather unexpectedly caused significant friction instead as factions feared that it would empower the various lords with too much power. Thankfully, articles five and six ameliorated most of these concerns as it ensured that, as best as they were able, bias within the Council would be kept to a minimum and that there would always be someone within its ranks that would look out for the interests of the signatory factions.
"Article eight. Each lord will gain no greater authority from their title than what they have acquired before their ascension or by their own means thereafter."
This was a further response to the seventh term. A failsafe as it were, to any lord that might amass too much power and influence. Though Arbitore couldn't see how it really helped. Not in its current watered down form. He much preferred the initial version that Peng Xian had proposed which called for each lord to set aside all previous authority, but that had been almost unanimously shot down. Something that as Jambres pointed out was inevitable. All the faction leaders fancied themselves potential lords and whilst they eyed the positions, they simultaneously could not even begin to countenance relinquishing their existing power.
"Article nine. New signatories to the Compact must be approved by a three quarters majority vote by the Council."
"Article ten. A similar three quarters majority vote is required for any amendments to the Compact itself."
"Article eleven. All other matters brought before the Council must be decided by a simple majority."
These three terms were simple enough, being merely duplication of the very same procedures that had been implemented in the peace conference so far and had been working fairly well. Something which was a point of pride for Arbitore himself, as they had been his brainchild.
"Article well-being of all who live in the world must be respected by the Council and it must strive, to the best of its ability, to ensure their survival and prosperity as a whole."
This was unsurprisingly something that was difficult to accept, especially for the magical supremacists since its wording deliberately encompassed all peoples of Earth both magical and mundane. They were however in the minority and most of their number could see the writing on the wall, and grudgingly accepted it. Those who could not, well they had left the conference in a huff and Arbitore could honestly say he was more than happy to see them gone.
As the old man was about to continue, he caught Jambres' smirk and the peacemaker wondered if the man's prediction that this clause would eventually lead to the separation of the magical from the mundane, at least for a time, would come to pass.
Arbitore and Peng Xian were doubtful. Magic was just too integral to the lives of all people. Yet Jambres' arguments that eventually the mundanes would develop ways to duplicate much of magic's effects without its power and thus increasingly see themselves as the equal of magic users were sound. Arbitore had seen for himself the inventiveness of mundanes when they had no access to magic. Would they turn against magicians when they reached relative parity though? Many magicians, even the supposedly pro-mundanes, did lord over their non-magical peers but surely it would never become as acrimonious as Jambres feared it would!
Though if it did… Considering the limited number of magicals there were and the hordes of non-magicals… Unless they were open to genocide on an immense scale, which few, if any, were, then Jambres' hypothetical separation was likely the only option.
"Article thirteen. This Compact would be sealed by the world itself as witness."
This meant performing the magical ritual sealing the contract on a leyline nexus and tying the planet's magic into the Compact itself. Doing so would strengthen the pact immensely and greatly heighten the prestige of the Council that it created, but it also made the whole thing a lot more permanent.
A body created and empowered by the magic of men would only last as long as the power of the men who made it or at least their successors survived. But one bound by the world's magic itself? That would last as long as the world itself did. It was for this reason that Arbitore and his allies had pushed hard for this last vital term.
Despite their efforts, it had taken much tough negotiations to get sufficient agreement to see its acceptance. Many were leery of the permanence of such a body. A not entirely unfounded worry considering the many horrors born of fools who bound themselves to the world's magic in a bid for greater power or immortality only to be driven mad and twisted into abominations by it. It had taken Arbitore and Peng Xian's extensive work on the subject to assuage such doubts by pointing out the many, many safeguards they had put in place in the ritual they intended to use to seal the Compact to prevent such an outcome to secure its passing.
As Arbitore finally finished reading the terms of the Compact, he looked over the audience of delegates and saw a sea of accepting faces. Few were openly pleased, but at least no one was openly opposed. He was happy enough with that. So long as they could proceed, he was satisfied.
Another month later at the ancient mystical site that later generations would call Stonehenge, Arbitore took one last look at his friends Peng Xian and Jambres with mortal eyes, savoring the sight of them. Despite their precautions, none of them knew what would happen to him when the ritual was complete. He was an old man with no close family left and these two men, his close companions throughout the grueling process of preparing for this day, were the closest thing to family he had at this moment.
"For peace." Arbitore said as he raised the cup with the potion mixed, in part, from slivers of blood donated by the leaders of the various signatories to the Compact.
"To peace." The two men who would soon be his fellow Lords of the Compact said as they too raised cups of the same potion.
All around them the chanting of the other mages who were working to call up the power of the world were reaching a crescendo. Already, the surrounding area for a great distance was suffused with magic transforming the night into day through a myriad of many colored lights and the countryside into a land straight out of fantasy as sights not meant for mortal eyes manifested. But still they waited. They needed to time this just right.
Any moment now. Arbitore thought impatiently as the seconds ticked.
All three men waited until the magic reached its absolute pinnacle, when the boundary between the mortal world and that of the divine essence of the world itself was all but breached. They all sensed it when it happened. A sudden, massive surge of alien yet familiar power poured into their senses, enough to kill lesser men - as evidenced by many of the ritual casters going up in flames - but to the three would be Lords of the Compact it was merely the signal to seal their fates. Something they all did without hesitation as they downed the potions in their cups.
Upon the first drop of the concoction touching their lips, power unlike anything they could possibly comprehend flowed into their bodies. Or at least that's what Arbitore experienced. Power from across the world, from the magicians of the various signatories of the Compact flowed into him. But that was but a mere trickle, no less than that, compared to the ocean of power that was the very magic of the world itself that did the same. It was far more than he had ever imagined possibly existing!
And with it came understanding. Or at least as much of one he could gleam as his mind was overloaded by the sheer intensity of what he was experiencing. But what he could fathom was that this wasn't just the planet's magic that was flowing into him. Somewhere along the line, they had made an error in their calculations. The power they were now tapping into was far, far vaster than that of a mere planet. No, it was something that his feeble mortal mind struggled to comprehend. For how could any man truly grasp the enormity of infinity.
Even as his mind struggled to comprehend the revelation of what their ritual had wrought, it was also doing its work on his body and soul. His flesh burned away as his soul became one with the Compact. Its very articles seemingly searing themselves into the deepest depths of his very being. At the same time, the power of the infinite that they had inadvertently tapped into began to draw him in, tying his being into itself, binding him as a spirit within its workings.
"Arbitore, are you alright?" Peng Xian asked worriedly, an indeterminate time later.
Opening the eyes of his new spectral body, the man who had once been Arbitore of Mycenae offered his old friend a smile.
"Yes," the man said as he floated down from where he realized he'd been hovering in midair. "But I am no longer Arbitore."
"Then who are you?" Jambres asked warily.
"You know the answer to that already, First Lord, Thirteenth Lord." The man formerly known as Arbitore said with a grin on his ghostly face. "I am the Twelfth Lord, guardian of the Compact."
Flashback end
In the present, the Twelfth Lord ended his reminiscing and even as he continued to admire the scenery outside his tower, let his mind wander to thoughts of all his peers he had seen come and go over the uncounted centuries.
It has been so long. He mused. I never thought we'd survive this long. Nor that somehow each iteration of the Council is always stronger than the last. Fate has truly been with us so far.
Suddenly Helena teleported into his tower unannounced, interrupting his day of quiet contemplation.
"Hello Helena," he greeted, unfazed by her rude interruption.
She did not return the greeting, instead marching up to him with a furious look on her angelic face. Her visage made him think wistfully about how he wished that the ever improving strength of his peers meant they had become easier to deal with as well.
A foolish and impossible wish. The Twelfth Lord realized as he mentally prepared himself for what was likely going to be an unpleasant conversation.
"You know why I am here." The vampiric Fifth Lord said as she conjured a chair for herself out of shadow stuff across from him and pulled out a blood bag to idly suck from.
"I honestly do not." The Twelfth Lord confessed.
"The Winchesters," the childlike vampire prompted and the Twelfth Lord replied with a blink of honest confusion, causing Helena to sigh in frustration before continuing. "I want to finish our discussion about your involvement in creating the confrontation between us."
"Ah, that." The Twelfth Lord said with an exaggerated sigh. "Surely, you know that the confrontation was inevitable. They would have come after you eventually."
"Perhaps," Helena allowed. "But you could have at least warned me that they were coming since you apparently knew it beforehand."
"I admit that was a failing on my part." The Twelfth Lord said with an apologetic bow. "I am sorry for the oversight."
"You owe your apologies to the loved ones of those who died because of your mistake."
"I will visit them to offer them my condolences." The Twelfth Lord assured her.
Helena did not seem satisfied if the angry sucks she took on her medical blood was anything to go by but she did not press the issue.
"Don't make a mistake like this again," Helena warned him as she finished her snack and stood, dismissing her conjured chair and walking away from him. "I will not be so forgiving the next time."
With that last warning, Helena teleported away.
Normally the Twelfth Lord would have chuckled at such a threat. He had lost count of how often he'd heard such from his peers over the ages but right now he was a little too preoccupied to dabble in amusement. For as the vampire had departed, he'd detected a strange presence and had stretched his magical senses to detect its origin. Whatever it was evaded him however and all he managed to observe was the image in his mind's eye of a woman with long raven black hair held back by a hairpin shaped like a small, white flower on the left side of her hair turning away from him.
Endnotes:
(1): Mycenaean is the term applied to the art and culture of Greece from ca. 1600 to 1100 B.C. They are considered the first advanced and distinctively Greek civilization in mainland Greece. It is generally thought that the Greek myths of the Heroic age (i.e. the stories of heroes like Jason, Heracles, etc.) are set in this period and based off garbled accounts of its legends or even historical events, most notably the Trojan War.
(2): i.e. The Eurasian Steppes. The historic home to a host of various nomadic groups.
And that's another chapter done.
Hope you guys liked it.
It's still set up for the main story so for those who have still not formed an opinion on whether to continue reading, I suggest trying another chapter or two before making up your mind. I understand if you don't want to though. I've been in your position too.
Anyways~!
Some might be wondering what exactly did the Compact tap into if it was vaster than the magic of planet Earth? Well, the fact that it's described as infinite should be a big clue. There is only one celestial body that fits that description. I won't spell it out beyond that as it will spoil things, especially if you've read anything else in my Outsiderverse collection, but it shouldn't be too hard to guess.
I do hope my foreshadowing at the very end there was interesting. If you're read other stories in my Outsiderverse collection, especially Why Cute Witches Should Deal With Outsiders (And Their Lairs), I think you'll have a good idea where I'm going with things. If not? Well, things will be revealed in time.
Till next chapter, peace out!