The demise of Imperial Rome echoed through the Nevernever, dividing scholars of magic from each other. The first Merlin had traveled past time and memory, to the farthest reaches of the world, desiring all of humanity united, safe from interference. The Fallen, thirty for thirty silver coins, arrested Merlin's goal and securing the long dark fall of the Eternal City.
For several hundred years East and West existed, separated, distant. Aware of each other still, but only able to communicate through costly rituals or dangerous journeys along long-twisted paths. The dream of a united front of mages against the terrors of the world seemed a forgone dream.
Mai was born into such a period. A period of imperial local harmony, prosperity within the Middle Kingdom but danger without. The time before reunification between the sundered branches of what had become the White Council.
Mai was born to a working girl, who named her first child 'elegance.' Somehow she knew Mai's great purpose even with such ignoble genesis. It was a traveling teacher who found her, before the enemies of mankind could, who recognized her paternal lineage.
A pacifist, the Laws realized through long contemplation on the Dao. Fortuitous, really for the girl that became Ancient Mai. Her first teacher was moral, when far too many wizards and witches, sorcerers of renown, fell into the predations of desire. Of might makes right. So easy to justify, so easy to dominate.
Young Mai became just Mai and ascended far above her station, life drawn out by courtesy of her father's lineage and the magic roiling beneath her breast, a life-giving fire.
The Ways were perilous still when the envoy from the White Council arrived in the Middle Kingdom, in the years it was ruled by the Great Khan, Kublai, the first emperor of the Yuan dynasty. Mai, daughter of the working girl rose high, enough to reach the ear of the Great Khan, enough to whisper favor in his ears, when the Venetian Wizard sought an audience.
He had traveled long, eschewing the twisted peril that dominated the Nevernever, and the path between East and West. Years torn away in travel, but finally East and West reunited.
Many years had passed since then. Many Merlins have come and gone, yet Ancient Mai remained. Her daughters and granddaughters and great-granddaughters and down and down her descendants each marveled at her long life. Whispers of immortality reached even her ears, her body aging but slowly.
Such was the nature of the deal, the nature of the vow between Ancient Mai and her father. Her line, some noticed, bore only daughters. No sons, even over countless generations. This was not true, many sons were born into her line, and she had gifted them tenscore. It was a deal that gnawed on her, this tribute to her progenitor. A deal made in the folly of youth, when she had thought she would bear no children, too old already for such youth. The dragon had its due.
Ancient Mai was what they called her now, years upon years more than any other mortal wizard. Year after year a granddaughter was stationed at her side, callow descendents aching to know how she lived her long life. It was a secret she would take to her grave, someday long away, when even bone had wasted from her body. Every year she grew older, but her mind did not dull.
It was partially this reason why she noticed the utter timelessness of the creature, clad in an offending garment, void of proper propriety.
"Warden Luccio," she said, voice thin, a simple disguise to obscure her strength. Her life had been saved by those that believed her feeble, first on account of her womanness, and later on account of her advanced age, "I will take care of this."
The creature turned, one eye dark and piercing, taking in her form. This was no lesser fae or lesser spirit. Sharp and shrewd intelligence lingered behind its gaze, it's all too human eye and the gaping ruin of the other.
Ancient Mai could recognize the marks of fingers on her face, fingers that carved through flesh and bone, disfiguring what would've been a starling timeless beauty. The kind of beauty that Mai once had, of a woman either twenty or forty, with all the qualities desirable in between.
She ignored Luccio's protest, all to watch the creature. It did not blink, did not shift with an idle breath. Each inhalation perfectly uniform, while the body stood, still as the jade sculptures of an emperor.
"What is your name, creature?" Ancient Mai asked, letting her voice croak in accordance with her age.
"I have been called Alexandria," the creature replied. She could see that the name was incomplete, it tasted like there was something more, a private addition mayhaps. The Truth of Names was a skill she had become long accustomed too. The Jade Court had ensured that such truth needed to be known.
Alexandria. Defender of Man. Auspicious choice, for a creature that was not a woman. It was not sidhe, you hun ye gui, perhaps. A revenant, perhaps. The stench of death hung heavy over the creature. Not necromancy, that carried its own foul odor. It was a secondhand menace, that lingered.
"It is unlikely that you are Winter's emissary," Ancient Mai noted, watching the creature. There was no widening of its eye. No satisfaction. No reaction. Apprentice Rupert hadn't been gone long with the message to Winter, she doubted their response would be so measured as to send an emissary already.
Mab would have some other, more twisted purpose. She would've gone herself, but the enchantments on this impromptu sanctum needed someone of her gifts.
"I do not represent Winter," the creature, Alexandria answered, the words slipping free easily.
"What is your impression?" Arthur Langtry whispered, eyes fixed on the creature as it floated, not disturbing the air toward the other observers.
Ancient Mai could feel her face want to twist into a grimace, "It wears a false body."
The Merlin frowned then, eyeing it, where it came to rest between the observer from the Jade Court, Li Xiěyè, which bodily twitched as it brushed by, barely a hand's length away, and then on to the observer from the Enchanter's Union.
The White Council so far had been lucky that the Jade Court was aloof, avoiding the offers of the Red Court. Partially, it was because or the egregious insult the Red Court offered them by believing they would join in without being courted first. A mistake that the White Council was grateful for, especially since the White Court was leaning toward supporting the Red Court in name if not in deed.
"Did you ascertain whether it spoke truly? Is Warden Baines alive?" The Merlin continued.
"I could not verify," Ancient Mai responded tersely, a quick gesture of her hand enough to send her granddaughter away to join the convention. She left the veil around the three senior council members with barely a ripple to reveal her exit.
"Liberty?" The Merlin asked, turning slightly, blue eyes meeting the tired hazel eyes of Martha Liberty. She looked worn down, the death of Pietrovich weighed on her more than many of the others. For herself, Ancient Mai was partially relieved with his death. His effectiveness was real, but his interactions with the Merlin were overly belligerent for a Senior Council member. Trouble within, trouble without, after all.
"Immense loss," Liberty responded, eyeing the creature, which had called itself as Alexandria, "an unbending nature."
"Not an enemy to make lightly," The Merlin responded, frowning under his silver beard.
"A better question would be, what is it?" Liberty answered, still watching the thing. The Jade Court smiled tightly and spoke. Ancient Mai did not bother listening, she already knew what it would say.
The creature replied, something pithy, it seemed. The Jade Court's expression became stilted, expression freezing in place. Ancient Mai allowed herself to feel some amusement. It never failed to bring satisfaction to her when the Jade Court was humbled, it was their fault for the decline of the ancestor worship that had protected the Middle Kingdom for so long.
"A god? Or the avatar of a god?" Ancient Mai replied rhetorically. The presence of the thing was immense. A presence that bowed the world around it, intruding like a swollen finger into reality, twisting and imposing its own will on the world. Ancient Mai had never seen the like before.
The Merlin shot a glance her way, expression curdling, his face twitched, "Neither, if fortune is with us."
"Should we honor its agreement, if perchance it is found to be true?" Liberty asked, expression hardening.
"It would be remiss of us not to," Ancient Mai replied, "Winter's miasma lingers, too faint for my Wardhounds to make out, but dense enough that the interaction was quite potent."
"Very well," The Merlin replied, still frowning, "It is no coincidence that Winter moves right when we seek the help of the Courts."
"Winter and Summer have always favored humanity over the anthropophages," Ancient Mai replied, slipping back into her customary old croak.
Liberty's eyes narrowed, as she thought over Ancient Mai's words, before she slowly nodded, moving to another topic "Wizard McCoy will be the next member of the Senior Council."
The Merlin grit his teeth, "So it would seem."
And so, their talk turned to other subjects, and the presence of the creature amongst their midst was left for its proper time.