Tenemire looked up at the pitiless statue of Kael'Thas that towered over him, and over all there in the assembly room. He was maintaining his position at the back of the crowd when he was eventually backed into the entry. He turned around and the vertical lines of Kael's stone cloak drew his eyes upward to the prince's pointed shoulders and eternal gaze. The assembly room seemed even larger with this many elves therein. The assembly chamber was not meant to house this many elves; it was a room for meetings between the few, powerful magi who governed the other magisters and advised the prince. And so all who gathered there stood in place. An anxious energy radiated through them. Tenemire had begun to grow tired of such energies; they were too frequent lately. He recognized most there, but few cared to notice him. From out of the bodies came a familiar face. He hadn't seen Magistrix Eredaneia since Lord Saltheril's soirée.

"Magister Eventide, congratulations."

"Hello, magistrix. Wait, but why?"

"For your ascension, of course. We haven't had a chance to chat since you came to the Magisters' Terrace."

"Oh goodness. I don't think it's worth congratulating yet; I haven't even passed the trials yet."

"Oh that will come in time. Lesser elves than you have called themselves magister. I always said you were too good for them there in the woods. It's time you joined us here."

"I am of course pleased to be here."

"Though I haven't seen you at Saltheril's again since that night. You mustn't be like some here who sleep and eat off their books. Enjoy the station; you've already earned it."

"You must believe me, I have not been working as hard as you seem to think." They both laughed. "So is this a common occurrence?"

"What, dear?"

"This call to assembly."

"Oh, no, in fact this is the first time it's happened that I can remember. I don't know what they want with us." The high elves were ruled by the prince, and a regent in his absence, advised by two others: the grand magister and the ranger general. Governance was left to these few, so it was unknown for what the magisters were called to witness.

"I see some Farstriders here too."

"Oh I know, aren't they handsome!"

"It is a nice difference from all the bookish types here, although I can appreciate them too."

"Oh? So whom all have you appreciated?"

Tenemire laughed, "Nobody, well at least not yet."

"You'll learn we're all rather an incestuous bunch here."

"Oh dear, that's not at all romantic."

"Politics are never romantic, dear."

Important members began to climb to the dais in the chamber. There were two distinct groups, one of Lor'Themar Theron and Halduron Brightwing, and the other of Lady Liadrin, Grand Magister Rommath, and his second, Astalor Bloodsworn.

"Well, then, Brightwing, why don't you begin by explaining to all those assembled here why you've called them, even your own Farstriders, out of the way to the Magisters' Terrace." Opened Lady Liadrin.

"Events which concern all our people are again taking place." Halduron Brightwing was not as controlled nor as articulate as his lady adversary.

"And is that so different from every other such occurrence? Why don't you begin by explaining to us why you refused to meet unless it was witnessed, breaking our sacred precedent of cooperation and unanimity."

"It was you, my lady, who began to send orders without the consent of your prince's regent, and then refused this meeting unless it was held here at the Magisters' Terrace."

Lor'Themar stepped in, "Lady Liadrin, neither the ranger general nor I mean to suggest by calling this assembly that we doubt our shared decision-making capabilities. We hope to increase the general preparedness of our people by informing them of important matters."

"And so it shall be, my lord," Rommath now spoke, "Ranger general, why don't you open this assembly."

"Thank you, grand magister," Halduron stuttered. He now addressed the assembly nervously, "It has been reported that a ship has crashed in a remote island chain in northern Kalimdor. The ship was one in the fleet of the race known as the Draenei." He paused. "The ship was pursued by a group of elite high elven forces known as the Sunhawks, who are now engaged in conflict with the Draenei at the crash site." The assembly chamber was silent for a moment. An uproar of questions commenced.

"Who are these Draenei?"

"Why were we chasing them?"

"So there are high elves in northern Kalimdor?"

"Allow me, ranger general," began Liadrin, "these Draenei hostiles were pursued by our prince's forces. They appear to be in possession of something of great strategic importance to the prince. Therefore, the elves of Quel'Thalas will be called on again to journey to Kalimdor and support their brethren."

"With all due respect, my lady, you do not have the authority to order my forces." Halduron replied.

"You would defy our prince?"

"You forget, Lady Liadrin, that in our prince's absence you owe the regent lord the same deference as you would to our monarch."

"That is if my regent lord were not defying my prince's orders!" The crowd uproared. "It is as clear as day. The Sunhawks were in pursuit of the Draenei and fight even now. They follow the prince's command, and we stand here and let our brothers fall in service alone?"

"We have no reason to believe the Draenei are hostiles!" Halduron begged the crowd. "Rommath, you tell them!"

Rommath was silent for a moment and looked to Lor'themar. He began, "In my time in Outland, we shared a common enemy with the Draenei."

Halduron began impatiently, "These Draenei fell to the Burning Legion just as our ancestors did. They are a benevolent race. It is said they are closer to the Light than any race on Azeroth."

"The Light!" Liadrin guffawed. She laughed. "I piss on the Light!" The crowd gasped. Liadrin's voice carried over the crowd, "Betrayers! You who would worship a false god, hear me well! All will learn the deadly truth. The light of truth will lay your fears bare before you, and you will decide if you will wield its power and crush all that stand in your way, or be withered away to nothing. The Light is a wasteland of unheard prayers, blown on the wind of your loved ones' last breaths! Regent lord, decide. Will you fight along our prince for our future, or will you fall limp to the forces of destiny, hammering the final nail into the coffin of the high elves!"

"Halduron, you are ranger general, what do you say?" Lor'themar spoke calmly.

"We need to know what is happening in Kalimdor. The Sunhawks must be warned to cease their activities until we can enter into dialogue with the Draenei."

"A treasonous worm!" Responded Liadrin.

"All Azeroth is watching us! They are seeing high elves slaughter what are known to be peaceful, intelligent beings, victims of the Legion, stranded in a corner of Azeroth over which we have no dominion! You expect the night elves to sit passively? An active warzone has just broken out near their capital city!"

"What say you, Rommath?" Again, Lor'themar was impartial.

"The magisters stand with Lady Liadrin." Rommath said without inflection. Astalor Bloodsworn turned his head quickly and stared at Rommath, but said nothing. It took Tenemire a moment to realise that he was among those for whom Rommath spoke. Upon this the crowd erupted once more, some shouting in fiery approval, others in vehement denunciation. The Farstriders and the magisters eyed each other suspiciously.

Lor'themar held out one hand and the crowd calmed. "I have not received word from Outland," he began. "A decision in either direction would be made in ignorance. We mustn't present a divided front to the world or to our prince, but I do not condone what is happening in Kalimdor. Therefore, we will not be engaging with the Sunhawks, and will distance ourselves as best we can from what transpires there, until we hear word from the prince."

"Hell take you!" Liadrin hissed. "Today you have proven we are a people unworthy of salvation! You say I cannot command elven forces? I will raise my own army then! I will see this world alit in flames if I am to have any say over the destiny of the high elves! When we return, all the kingdoms of Azeroth will be consumed by the fire of our wrath!" She descended the dais. Instinctually the crowd formed a straight path for her. As she passed before them, the heels of her boots cracking on the stone, both her supporters and her detractors alike bowed before Lady Liadrin. Her cape billowed in her wake until she was gone, and the chamber fell silent.

"I am afraid," Rommath began, "you have borne here a schism today, regent lord."

"My old friend, this schism was borne worlds away, and the echoes of this fissure have only now found us here in our high home. Pray it can be endured, or that which we escaped in that army of death, we may here find again, in our very own hearts."