Men and women wearing robes of white and gold colours huddled around tables and corners of a large circular room with large carved pillars, giant statues in corners depicting the important figures in Time Lord history.
Food was brought out in droves, of unusual shapes and sizes, and the men and women taking part as they spoke to each other.
Stepping into the ballroom adorned in an outfit unusual even for him, Paul wore a similar robe, gently he pulls Taylor through the threshold as she's wearing a fitted robe, her emerald eyes taking in the sight of the ballroom.
No one paid any attention to them, but it would be expected since everyone's paying attention to the candidates, thus the couple were allowed to wander through without any glares.
The candidates were identified by their baby blue robes that let them stand out against the guests of the dinner as they mingled with their potential voters.
Loran was kind enough to give Paul and Taylor their names, none of which they can attentively say, but it was enough, and they listened to the guests talking to the candidates.
Listening quietly as they blended into the background, Paul could hear the questions and answers from the candidates and their potential voters, all ranging from standard to obtuse, with one voter wanting to know what the candidate she was speaking with was to do about the "concerning" nature that had been happening around Gallifrey lately.
Sounded like a good way of getting intel on why the message was sent to him, so Paul got as close as he could without anyone seeing him as he listened to the woman complaining that the younger generation was starting to act out.
"When I was their age, if I done the things they did, my own father would have exiled me, himself!" Paul heard the woman crone as she grew infuriated with her own son.
As he listened, the woman was saying things that reminded him of what his father said about his grandfather, and the woman confirmed that she knew him by finishing her rant with, "We don't want another one of him!"
Seems like the youth are starting to turn against the suffocating views held by their elders, what was concerning for Paul was how the candidate promised to bring everything back to "form."
Which, after spending time in school, Paul knew was code for ensuring that the youth learned their place, one way or another.
It wouldn't end well for them if they tried, if his grandfather was anything to go by, and he worried about the youth struggling in a society such as this one.
Moving away, Paul heard another prominent candidate talking about policies that would ensure that the culture remained strong, though the words he picked were loaded as baked potatoes, as Paul's mother had a habit of saying.
Different candidates from all walks of life trying to sway voters to their side scattered among the ballroom floor.
"I don't know, everyone has the same idea," Taylor frowns as she rejoined Paul's side after covertly going around the ballroom overhearing people talking to one another.
None of the candidates ruffled feathers, but as was expected, they were trying their hardest to sway voters, and Paul affirmed that they knew that they would be in trouble if caught in a lie.
Much good that did, though.
His angel eyes moved towards a table where he spotted someone who stood out from the others.
An intricate red robe with gold designs unlike anything Paul ever saw before that he guessed this was the Magister.
He mingled with a group of people as he held his arms behind his back as he spoke with an elegant tone, his braided black beard bobbing as he talked.
Paul narrowly avoided his amber eyes as he disappeared into a crowd of people, finding Loran among guests as he ate from a small plate.
"Anything?" Loran whispered as he hid his mouth from the prying eyes.
Shaking his head Paul responded that he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, though the sight of the Magister intrigued him, and he questioned why he was here.
His pink eyes slowly moving as he kept watch for anyone paying attention, Loran told Paul that the Magister was meant to keep things fair, since he was required to be neutral.
His duty was to ensure that no one could be dishonest in their campaigns and was the one who would count the votes at the end of the election before the Council announced their successors.
With many candidates as it is, it'll be long before the Council makes the announcement, which Paul wondered if someone was looking for a direct way to succeeding, causing confusion with Loran.
"Power has a habit of corrupting people, Loran," Paul warns him that while in his purview the Council was under scrutiny to only do what the people wield, someone would find ways of getting what they wanted being on it, often at the people's expenses.
"Everyone's subjected to a mind screen, anyone trying would fail the candidacy," Loran warns that anyone thinking of using the Council for their own uses would fail their efforts as part of running, their minds would be constantly read and interpreted, if they so much had a stray thought it would throw them out of the running.
Chewing on his lip, Paul asks, "But not people who aren't running, correct?"
Thinking it over, Loran admitted that anyone not in the running wouldn't be subjugated to the restrictions, but even then, he doubted someone would go through the effort, especially if their ploy gets found out.
Raising his finger, Paul suggests, "Unless the candidate doesn't know."
Which meant that he needed to find the candidate that someone would benefit from having on the Council.
Could be any of the candidates, really, they're all vying for the positions of the Council, and they're doing their utmost trying to sway as many voters to their sides as possible, that if someone wanted to control them from the shadows, blackmailing wouldn't be out of the question, it's an old and true tactic in the game of politics.
Loran remained sure of his belief no one could do anything, but Paul knew better, and his angel eyes slowly moved around the ballroom trying to hedge which of the candidates would be the easiest to control.
He stopped when he heard Taylor coming towards him as she told him how she went around listening to some of the potential voters in the opposite direction of the ballroom Paul stood in, so far, they're persistent in their personal beliefs, but none stuck out as someone who would undergo whatever it took getting their preferred Councilor a spot on the Council.
"Maybe not the voters, maybe someone outside the politics," Paul suggests that whoever intended for something to happen was outside the Game, thus giving them an alibi.
He was about to move elsewhere in the ballroom with Taylor before they're stopped by someone coming up to them with a stern look in his aquamarine eyes.
"I know everyone here, but I don't recall ever meeting you, before," Paul sees the Magister coming towards him with his arms behind his back, his feet underneath his long robe it made him look like he was gliding over the marble flooring.
Standing tall with Taylor beside him, Paul introduced himself as, "Paul al Theodore."
The Magister tilts his head confusingly as he processed the names before uttering, "Medikus!"
Eying him, Paul inquires, "You know my grandfather?"
Scoffing at him, the Magister goes, "It's not exactly hard, the man made a fool of himself since the day he was born. I can assume that the apple didn't land far from the tree, correct?"
Crossing his arms, Paul musters, "I know my manners if that's what you're asking, I don't suppose you have a name I can call you by, do you?"
The Magister announced himself as Talib al Cato as his beard shimmered in the lit ballroom.
His amber eyes moved toward Taylor, silently he stepped back, as he rapidly blinked before shaking his head, continuing as nothing happened, as he inquired Taylor's name.
Seeing this, Paul could tell he knew Rommy, and Taylor's similar physique caused him to take a second look at her.
"Oh, uh, I'm…Grace Taylor…" Taylor introduces herself as she seeks confusion in Talib's amber eyes as he tilts his head at her.
Watching him, Taylor could see how confused he was about her name, before Paul explained that Taylor wasn't from Gallifrey, either, and she was with him.
He expected Talib to treat them as lesser, but the Magister barely cared, claiming that he had more pressing matters that politics, and the only reason he was here in the ballroom at all was for his duties, nothing more.
"If given the chance, I'd find pleasure in reading a scroll away from it all, but I knew going in that this life would entail," Talib exhales as he admits how he wanted nothing to do with the politics, but since he became the Magister, it is his duty, and thus he may have his opinions, his duty came first and foremost.
Curious, Taylor asks if becoming the Magister was like an election, as well, and Talib informed her that if elections became a thing among scholars, it would be chaos.
No, he was picked at random.
No one knew who would become the Magister until the ceremony's performed.
"Doesn't that breed resentment?" Taylor inquiries more about the inner workings Talib spoke about and he shook his head at her question as he explained that every scholar knows what is expected of them, in fact, they breathe a sigh of relief when it isn't them that becomes the new Magister.
Scholars have more freedoms than the Magister, they'll allowed to spend as much time they want with their scrolls and books, while the Magister worked tirelessly continuing to keep everything maintained and proper.
"Of course, any indiscretions found would result in execution," Talib spoke of how strenuous the rules were for the Magister.
A reactionary change due to "indiscretions" of then, which Talib censored himself from speaking about further.
Though, he knew from simply looking at Paul, he wasn't here interested about learning in depth about his ancestors' histories, that he questioned why Paul would come here, now, knowing that his heritage would be the scorn of him.
"I'm the Lord of Time, I come to the beginning of time," Paul gestures as Talib shook his head with annoyance on his face as he sternly corrected Paul.
Exhaling sharply, Talib admitted that while he's heavily restricted from doing things, he can't help but worry about the youth.
"You hear them, child, crooning about keeping everything as is, I don't think what your grandfather did was right, but a symptom," Talib commented about the voters wanting everything to remain traditional.
Curious, Paul asks, "A symptom of what?"
He heard back, "Decay. They won't listen to their own children about their wants, ignorant to their whims, what do they think will happen when they do what your grandfather did and abdicate from here?"
It's a provoking thought as Paul shared a look with Taylor as the Magister excused himself, he needed to speak with someone.