26.4

Lyr was unnaturally still on the night of the Magic Guild's conclave. An eerie, expectant quiet had settled on the city.

The calling of a conclave signaled that the guild was ready to select a new guildmaster. The populace awaited news as to whether this night would see the end of the violent power struggle within the Magic Guild.

The city was weary of the chaos that had been reigning inside the Magic Guild in the unexpected death of Balthus, the former Magic Guildmaster. The most powerful mages in the guild had waged a long, vicious battle to take control of the guild. And while the intra-guild war raged, Lyr suffered. Magical street battles had claimed hundreds of innocent victims as sorcerers vied for power inside the guild - and Zyrdicia's former assistant, Sindra had been at the center of many of the most violent duels.

Lyr's business depended on a steady flow of magic. The harbor was nearly defenseless without the guild's magical protection, and the merchants were turning to foreign magical mercenaries for security.

Almost no business in the city could not be accomplished without the Magic Guild's services. Giant cargo ships in Lyr's port could not be loaded or unloaded without the magical machinery that lifted gigantic loads of goods. No construction could be completed without the magic that enabled massive blocks of stone to be raised into place. Even the fields outside the city were falling into ruin without the sorcery of the agrimancers.

Zyrdicia had personally called the conclave, though she had little interest in it. She was distracted by her knew angelic friend. But she had promised Sindra the Magic Guild, and Sindra was impatient to take control of it.

Zyrdicia's eyes glowed with bright purple light as she entered the Magic Guild's meeting hall, hand-in-hand with Sindra, the vampire sorceress she had created decades ago. There was a lightness to Zyrdicia's step that hadn't been there in weeks. She felt marvelous. The combination of Andireon's blood and being freed from Cupid's arrow left her feeling quite manic. She had half a mind to start a gigantic magical brawl at the Magic Guild, just for the fun of it.

Zyrdicia and Sindra both wore the black robes of the guild's highest echelon. Only those few who had mastered certain forms of the dark arts - exceptionally lethal spellcasting - wore them. These robes were earned by body count alone. The rank-and-file guild members wore scores of other colors, all signifying the less prestigious ranks of those who practiced quotidian - but economically essential - spell-casting.

The guild members all sat in concentric circles, according to their craft and robe color. At the very center of the room, the smallest circle was awash in blackness. It was perhaps the most dangerous place in Lyr tonight. Nearly every sorcerer sitting in that inner circle wanted to be guildmaster, and most had already killed to advance those interests.

Once everyone had settled, all eyes fell on Zyrdicia, in the middle of the room. She was the only person in Lyr who could settle the guild's strife because she was the only one they all feared. She also happened to be the only one seated at the center of the room who had no interest in the position herself.

As she looked around the room, she could not help but wonder if the next Chosen was here, somewhere. The faces surrounding her, however, were all well known to her. There was no diabolically gifted stranger here. There were only people she barely tolerated at best, and despised, at worst.

As she felt the tension in the room, she closed her eyes a moment and gathered the flow of Tenaebran energy through her body. Without uttering a single word, she let herself be a conduit for the dark magic's flow for a moment, letting the power move from Hell into this world through her own matter. Raw, infernal power coursed through her and radiated out of her in waves. She gasped in pleasure at the sensation. Andireon's blood had unleashed something new in her relationship to magic -- and it was magnificent.

Suddenly the room erupted in commotion. Several chairs overturned as nearly everyone present tried to put distance between himself and Zyrdicia. She opened her eyes and smiled at the collective terror all around her. She looked around slowly, meeting the gaze of every wizard who had aspired to be Guildmaster. She saw naked fear.

The sound of her melodic, child-like laughter filled the room for a moment. For an instant, she heard an echo of Andireon's laughter - and it sounded identical to her own.

Then she named Sindra as Balthus's successor, and no one dared challenge her decision. She walked calmly out of the guild hall, leaving an awestruck throng gawking behind her.