Ch 5 - Reserving Judgement

A downpour held Imardin at a relative standstill from early afternoon into the evening, painting the sky a rough grey, thick with ominous clouds that hung over the sodden lawns and slick pathways. The denizens of the city proper kept mainly indoors, delaying the inevitable soaking with an early drink in a bolhouse, extra minutes of work for the day, or a few idle moments of chatter. No exception to the rule, the Guild grounds were empty but for a few souls darting from building to building yet, while they might have seemed deserted to the untrained eye, those accustomed to the peculiarities of magicians would undoubtly see hints of activity in all nooks and crannies.

With a sharp knife in one hand and a vegetable firmly held in place upon his cuttingboard, Takan found his attention wandering once again as his eyes focused out the window, locking on nothing in particular. Sighing, the servant forced his gaze back to the task at hand, deftly applying the blade to the vegetable, noting the width of each slice. Every one was a perfect match for the rest. Nodding in satisfaction, he moved to the next vegetable, still finding his concentration drifting, despite his best wishes to stay on task. Normally, designing the evening meal was an involving delight. Normally, he had no trouble thoroughly losing himself in his creation. Normally, he didn't have to worry about his deceased master calling to his mourning lover from beyond the grave.

A sweep of his hand propelled every slice from the board into a bowl he'd set out, allowing a moment for contemplation as he tossed the vegetables into a mixture. Takan scowled. Sonea, he knew, could more than take care of herself. Her aunt was also coming to stay with her for a while, he'd overhead Rothen say in a conversation with Balkan some weeks back. So why, then, the feelings of foreboding? Picking out a few slices from the bowl to taste, he thought back to his years with Akkarin. They had shared a bond as well, a bond of power, yet he had never experienced anything of what Sonea mentioned. And likewise, when Dakova had perished by Akkarin's hand, still nothing. Something, he mused, something is missing.

Shaking his head, Takan stretched his hand out for the bottles of spiced oil from the counter. Lips pressed into a thin line, brow creased, he applied the oil to the mixture a few drops at a time, pausing as a sound reached his ears from another room. In the silence of the kitchen, he strained to hear if the sound came again and caught the definite sound of Balkan's footsteps going down the stairs as the High Lord passed the kitchen. Suppressing a smile, he closed the bottle and replaced it. Balkan had a very distinctive sound to his walk.

Checking once to make sure his other preparations were in order, Takan left the kitchen in search of Balkan and whatever - or whomever - had garnered his attention.

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Evening was fast approaching as Balkan finished reading through Osen's reports about the various issues in the Guild. The "rogue" magician was progressing through his classes, even if slowly. Lord Davin's "lookout and weather tower" was finally starting to see some progress, though it was looking more and more like Davin would be the only one considering weather as its primary use. A few novices were having problems. Lady Lianna had just given birth to a healthy baby boy, Orlow. Each report was carefully read then filed away into the 'seen and approved' box. He was just tidying up the loose ends when a mental call caught his attention.

-High Lord?

Balkan frowned as glanced out the window, noting the sun had nearly set. Dinner was to be served at sunset tonight and Sonea was calling on him for something. No doubt she has some other demands to impose upon us, he grumbled to himself, thinking of their most recent conversation and replied.

-Yes, Sonea?

Leaving his study, a mage light floated along behind him as he traversed the hallway, lighting his path brightly. He paused hearing Sonea's answer.

-If it isn't too much trouble, we would like to see you. Now.

Eyebrows rising at the tone in her "voice", Balkan took to moving again, setting a path down the stairs and past the kitchen.

-We?

-Yes - she paused - High Lord. Myself and Lord Dannyl.

Balkan's frown deepened, noting the pause and the other magician's name. Dannyl was one of the Guild's Ambassadors to Elyne. He had neither been called upon nor scheduled to return, not for another month at least. Rolling his eyes, the High Lord sent a reply as he reached the front room of the residence and settled himself in his overstuffed chair.

-Is it absolutely necessary Sonea? We were just about to have our meal.

A more lengthy than needed pause all but ended the conversation, but at last a reply came from Dannyl, not Sonea.

-Yes, it is very much necessary, High Lord.

-Fine. Be quick about it.

Glancing over his shoulder, Balkan huffed out an exasperated, "Takan! I see you there, man, no need to hide in the shadows. Lord Dannyl and Sonea are to be our... guests shortly. Please grab out one of those bottles of wine so we can have a civilized conversation. Oh," he waved the servant back after a moment when Takan had turned to leave. "Bring me one of those black neck-cloths or whatever they are. Damned white robes they decided on. Can't seem to keep them presentable." Watching Takan take his leave as silently as he entered, Balkan wondered with sudden dread what Sonea could possibly need to speak about so urgently. Of those few topics he dredged up, only a rare handful might also include Dannyl.

Gouging his fingers into his temples to ease the tension wrapping his thoughts in pain, he suddenly wondered if he just wouldn't be happier not knowing.

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The fireplace crackled and popped cheerily in the background as Sonea and Dannyl related their interwoven tales, each taking turns, their faces shadowed by the backlighting, gaining an assortment of ominous angles. When the story-telling ended, Sonea replied, "So you see, High Lord Balkan, Dannyl and I have quite a, um..." a pause, "A puzzle to solve." Lifting her gaze, she implored Balkan with her eyes to see their need, to let them have what they needed. Dannyl sat to her right, both of them in chairs facing the High Lord, Takan hovering somewhere near the stairway leading to the dining room.

Balkan's face reflected his thoughts as he sought to digest the unhealthy heap of information the two magician's had gifted him with this evening. Outside a storm had built, wrecking havoc with his temples as the tension coursed through his head. "I'm not even sure where to begin with this Sonea. The information you are asking for is proscribed and should be confiscated! And even if you did look at it, who knows what sort of wild ravi chase that might lead you on." His characteristic frown regarded them, yet it was not the usual, impenetrable frown. This frown held a hint of fear and helplessness.

Something inside Sonea flipped over in a way that eeriely reminded her of those times before her magic was under control and she'd had no way of knowing what damage her powers had caused. Swallowing down the knot of panic that threatened, she crossed her arms over her chest. Dannyl had been about to reply but, on seeing the look on her face, let her answer instead. "We're not leaving without seeing the materials, High Lord. There is some reason we must. You didn't trust Akkarin before," she molded the words to cut and flung them like a well-balanced dagger, "Trust me now or we may face worse consequences." Brief satisfaction welled in her breast at the flinch that statement illicited from the High Lord.

Spreading his hands out in a placating gesture, Balkan leaned back. "Fine. But only you may see whatever other manuscript Akkarin has waiting, Sonea. And, of course," he sighed resignedly, "Dannyl may view his own research. Take Takan with you...I trust him to hold you to my requests." At the look of unbridaled elation on Sonea's face and the shock mirroring it on Dannyl's, Balkan held up a finger of warning as the two younger magicians stood up excitedly. "Before you go, remember to report your findings back to me. Whatever happens afterward will be my decision along with the other higher magicians. See that you don't ask too much. The Guild can only take so much more. And Sonea, stay a moment, would you?"

Waving Dannyl to go on with Takan, she sat back down, eager to be on to solving the enigma at hand but unable to deny the High Lord.

When Dannyl had left, Balkan steepled his fingers and stared over his hands at her. "I..." he started, but stopped. After a moment, he tried again, "I know this has been a hard time. I... We all were," a pause, "Grateful for... for the sacrifices. You need to know that I held Akkarin in the highest regard. His betrayal, I.. we..." For a moment, he seemed to lose track of his thoughts and stared off, away from her. At last, he dragged his gaze back and, with a deep breath, added, "We cannot survive another Invasion. Many who were inflexible before can be made to bend now. Make a convincing argument. Use Dannyl's skills. He's become quite the wordsmith, I hear." Managing a faint smile, he waved her on, smile disappearing as he picked up a black cloth from the table next to him and draped it over his neck like a collar.

As Sonea stood up at the obvious dismissal in Balkan's tone, confusion warred with genuine excitement. "Thank you, High Lord. We will do our best not to... inconvenience Imardin any further." She made a slight bow and took herself from the room.

Hearing the young girl leave, Balkan was left alone once again. She is so young... Picking up his glass of wine, smoothing down the collar to prevent himself from making a mess, he took a deep drink and hardly noticed the exquisite taste of the Anuren dark. The howling winds and driving rains had ceased, by the startling quietude, but his temples still pounded ceaselessly. Though he'd been in no mood to argue with Sonea, for she was a formidable opponent even still, her story and Dannyl's painted a frightening picture. Akkarin had often alluded to how little was understood of the mysteries of consciousness and life. Could it be he had found a way to cheat death of her due? Lips pressed in thought, he found that thought more than a little disturbing. Even more disturbing that it was somehow linked into the black magic by the story Takan had related to Sonea and other nagging details. Setting his glass down again, he leaned back in the chair and found his eyes closing.

Perhaps reason could be found in all this madness.