CIRCLE OF SHADOWS Part 1: Shadow Chaser
† 34 - council †

Sitting quietly around the table the Council members stare defiantly at one another, their troubled faces mirroring the turmoil of feelings roiling turbulently within themselves.

Marck nods his head in silent contemplation as the last member to speak gets up from her chair, her voice a humming drone ringing in his tired ears.

‘.... and so fellow council members...’ her voice drones relentlessly on as she addresses the members gathered around the table, ’...I believe there is no other choice but to gather our forces and proceed in our preparations for the worst. It seems that war is at hand.’

Marck looks towards her, nods his head in silent thanks and then looks at the faces surrounding the table as she sits down again.

A sigh hisses past his clenched lips and he gets up slowly, his body feeling very old and tired. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

‘So it seems we have managed to come to a unanimous decision indeed, but before we proceed in any way, I believe we need to hear from the Trias. They have succeeded in their search and have narrowed down the search area.’

Marck flicks his hand through the air, and a wispy figure emerges from behind his chair, golden flecks shimmering in tangles of brown hair. Shuffling closer the figure stops hesitantly next to Marck’s chair, soft hisses bubbling amidst the words coming from the small mouth hidden beneath the cascades of hair.

‘We... have suc-cceeded in the searchhh. The Tome isss being accesssed and studied from within the Red Fortresss. Eminationss of power are leaking into the void... pulsssing through the ether. Discordant. Dangeroussss!’

As her final hissed word dies down, Marck looks around him, from one downcast face to another. Shock and despair starkly on all the Council member’s faces.

With a heavy heart he begins to speak softly into the silence.

‘In order to retrieve the Tome we must make a stand. We must leave our protected shores to prevent a catastrophe unknown to man. That is the burden we must carry, and an even greater one if we should fail.’

His voice grows firm and loud, his resolve and pride taking over.

‘Let us hope and pray that Galen can succeed in recovering the Tome before we have to engage in all out conflict with the Red Mages, for that will surely save many innocent lives from a needless and unavoidable death.’

Marck gets up from his chair, rests his hands on the table before him and hangs his head in silence, before looking each member in the eye.

‘Go!’

His hard voice causing more than one member to jolt upright

in their seats, their attention undivided as they look towards him.

‘Prepare your individual sections and make ready for war. So the Council has voted.’

‘So it shall be!’

‘In a fortnight we shall gather together and set off to the mainland. Make sure all preparations have been concluded by that time.’

Marck clenches his hand tightly against his head, fingers stiffly pressed against his throbbing temples, as a severe ache spreads through his head.

‘B-but, High M-ma-ste...’

A sharp glance from Marck silences the stammering voice, a deadening silence descending on the gathered council members.

‘Let us hope Galen succeeds in retrieving the Tome before any bloodshed occurs. But...’

Marck looks long and hard at each of the members.

‘We must be prepared to take action should he fail.’

‘Or reap the consequences of our inability to act!’

Pausing as he rubs his temples again, the tabled sits in hushed silence, the ramifications of these orders sinking in.

‘Now go!’

Marck slams his fist against the table, the ancient wood reverberating hollowly, along with his final pronouncement. With a violent shove he pushes himself away from the table, turns around and walks rapidly away from the seated members and out through his private door hidden in the back of the chamber.

In shocked silence the Council members sit looking from one to the other, eventually rising from their seats and stumbling out through the great doors.

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