Winter 4994, 36 Shinmoth
Shaloon dozed.
Images flashed behind her eyelids, darkened further by the book laying open over her face.
Was it a dream? Or memories? She couldn't be sure... It didn't matter...
A grand manor house. It was full of eager teenagers... But she couldn't see them. Not from here.
How did she know they were there? Dream logic? Or memory? It didn't matter...
Sorcerers. Commoners. Those like her sister, who couldn't afford training to avoid being sealed. Shaloon was training them, sponsoring them. She had studied hard to be a Mage for this purpose. Her sealed sister couldn't cast magic after all... Not with the tattoo.
Sister? Did Shaloon even have a sister? Did she have a life before Ryuugen and the Talons?
Colored lighting flashed across a black sky.
So a dream then. A nightmare. It had to be; there was no way anyone would survive a tornado that size. And yet she knew she survived. Must be dream logic.
She lay broken in the rubble that had once been a place of life, laughter, and learning, staring at the sky as it cleared—the magical storm passing. The unnatural colors flashed in the distance, continuing its destruction for miles. Only a handful survived. None of them her wards.
She was glad this was a dream. If it had been a memory...
"It could have been prevented..."
"It will happen again..."
A male and female voice alternated, one in each ear. She couldn't see them, couldn't see anything beyond the open sky and glittering stars. The lights of the Outer Planes, the origin of power... Power that, if in her hands, could have saved those Sorcerer children...
"If only we had more researchers..."
"And more samples..."
"We could prevent this from happening again..."
"Save the world..."
"I would like to send a message."
Shaloon cracked an eye open, pulling the book down just enough to peek over the cover.
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"A message, Journeyman Perla?" The Warlock on duty watching the communication mirrors sniffed, "You mean to make a report?"
"No..." The young woman in the mirror hesitated, then squared her shoulders, "I will make my report in the evening, after the interviews are done. Right now, I want to send a message."
Shaloon stood, "To whom?"
The Warlock on duty sniffed again, in shock rather than derision this time, "Archmage?" he asked. Lifting his hand as if to hide his mouth from the woman in the mirror, he spoke in a loud whisper, "Journeyman Perla is not authorized to send messages. It is suspected that she is the reason the Earthwyrm-"
"I am aware," Shaloon interrupted. She didn't know if the Warlock was being stupid on purpose or if his insanity had just progressed to the point where he honestly thought Perla couldn't hear him. The fact that he was stationed here, at the Central Talon, and not out in the kingdom doing research, pointed to the latter.
Shaloon eyed Perla -who paled- "Archmage Shaloon, I... I didn't know you were still at Central-"
"Who do you want to send a message to, Journeyman?" Shaloon asked again. Perla was stationed in the kingdom capital, spying on the Mages and Council. She was the most likely to know where the Firewyrm was.
"I... Um..." Perla stuttered, looking anywhere but at Shaloon's eyes, shifting in color through the spectrum, every sacred gem and metal taking their turn. A gift from their Master. Perla shuddered but did finally answer, "The Waterwyrm, Archmage."
Shaloon was surprised, but exaggerated the expression further, opening her eyes wide and letting her brows shoot into her hair, "Oh? Well, give it then, girl, and I will see it passed on."
Perla shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps I will wait until after my report..."
"Nonsense. You contacted us early for a reason..." Shaloon crooned kindly. Menacingly.
The Warlock attendant huffed, "You wish to lose her as well?" Perla didn't flinch, a good sign in her favor, that or she was a better actress than Shaloon thought.
Perla placed her fists on her hips and scowled through the mirror, "The Waterwyrm is working with us of her own free will. And I may have someone else willing to do the same, should we choose to give them the autonomy they need."
The Warlock snapped his fingers at her, "It isn't your place to make recruitments. You risk everything we strive for-"
"It's Li... the Firewyrm." Perla blurted, "She's looking for the Waterwyrm."
Shaloon laughed, loud and mad, cutting off the other two Warlocks with her gleeful cackling. The Firewyrm! She was looking for them?! That would make Shaloon's goal so much easier. The foolish girl would stroll right into her arms. Autonomy. Her laugh dissolved into a giggle, like a young child. They would never give the Firewyrm the freedom she desired. She couldn't be controlled like the Waterwyrm. Her power was too destructive. But Perla didn't need to know that.
"I'll see the message delivered, Journeyman Perla," Shaloon told her. Perhaps the Waterwyrm would be able to lure the Firewyrm to the Central Talon, where she couldn't escape Shaloon again. "Where is she? The Firewyrm?" Shaloon demanded, suddenly serious as the grave, all evidence of her past mirth gone.
Perla looked nervous again but answered, "Somewhere in Halakon... The Guild thinks she'll return to her Monk Master there, but she's looking for the Waterwyrm,"
"Who is also in Halakon." Shaloon said, nodding to herself, "Very well. Don't forget to make your report this evening, Journeyman. We need to know all we can of the kingdom's team."
"The minutes from their interview of the last member are being transcribed now," Perla assured her.
Shaloon waved a dismissive hand, turning her back on the mirror. It didn't matter who the kingdom chose to hunt them. All that mattered was that the Warlocks continue their work. And to do that effectively, they needed the Firewyrm back.