Periculum Ludus

[Pharaoh]

"PERICVLVM LVDVS"
36 Glade 123 Steel

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"And thus is the æternal Word of Aværys, Exacting Be His Will, made manifest. And thus is the æternal Word of Varvara, Severe Be Her Strictures, made sacrosanct. For Him we rise."

"Deus vult!" The crowd chanted.

"For Her we sacrifice."

"Sic domina imperat!"

"For Him we sweat!"

"Eos alit!"

"For Her we bleed!"

"Eos alit!"

"Laudandi conditores!"

"Laudandi conditores!"

Vrædyn gazed out over the genuflecting throngs arrayed before him on the floor of the Templum Solis Radiens. The crown-like Mark that rounded his wrist surged with an euphoric warmth that sent shivers through his slender form at the sight of such devoted deference. Smiling to himself, he stepped away from the pulpit.

"Approach." He instructed, as he sensed the anxious attention of a nearby courier. "A missive from the Umbrium?" He ascertained from the Symphony of the servant. He extended his long fingers and closed them about the communique, breaking the Phædryn seal and perusing the contents.

"I see." Vrædyn said, arching his brow and closing his fist around the parchment. An orange glow emanated from between his knuckles and, when he spread his fingers, it was only ash that fell from his pale palm.

"Send word that I will meet him at Red Rock in the chamber where our erstwhile accord was struck. I shall await him there at noontide, by the Sceptre's reckoning." Vrædyn knew Dæmon to be a capable Traverser, who could doubtless find his way back to the citadel he'd inhabited for no brief interval. It was a Sentinel facility from from the Luxium, where agents of the Solar Crown would quickly clock the presence of the realm's ancient enemy now that he was a known, rather than a theoretical entity.

At the appointed time, Vrædyn would be at the appointed place, his princely-papal vestments even more lustrous for their many enchantments both ostentatious and practical. An even more intricate web of ensorcellments than one might note in most military uniforms, for this was a prince, a pontiff and a paterfamilias.

"Ave, Dæmon, Princeps Kalzasi..." He inclined his head, before switching over to the Common tongue. "Wherefore am I graced with so... peculiar an audience?"

[Talon]

It was still winter in Kalzasi. The cold winds that blew through the Northlands did not chill him nor bite as they might have other people. He was beloved by the Winter King and blessed by the inherent nature of all Avialae, insulated as they were against the cold. Today he wore colors that he had become accustomed to. The white and silver vestments that matched the alabaster of his hair, coinciding with the pale nature of his Siltori skin, on that day, Talon truly did appear to be an individual who was blessed by the Frost season. On one hand he wore a ring of sapphire along with his ring of office. On one ear, aethereal blue gemstones were embedded along the shell of his ear, humming softly with arcane power. His silver warding circlet was in place over his brow.

So it was that he appeared to Vraedyn, not in the guise of Daemon Alexios, sun-kissed gladiator of the Solunarian arena, but as the Siltori-born Prince of Kalzasi. Through his deep Bond with Rickter, Frost kissed the tips of his silver wings, and a preternatural cold clung to his otherwise warm countenance. The nimbus of his divinity was not masked but in full display, manifesting the Eminence of his holy domains of Justice, Light and Hope. That final realm of his ascension, Hope, had been absent in their last encounter, sundered as his soul had been to preserve it from corruption. When the princely-pontifex entered, he inclined his head in greeting.

“The Sceptre of Avaerys is faltering.” Unmasked as he was, his voice echoed with the fury of Justice, the radiance of Light and the gentle purity of Hope. He rest his hands at the small of his back. His wings lifting and settling comfortably as he spoke. “I am making preparations to lend my power to its restoration.”

He phrased this in the way he did as bygone conclusions. The Umbrian Crown had given its blessing. He would do these things, primarily because he had an interest in ensuring Finn and his beloved Arvaelyn had a home to prosper in. Couple that with the fact that he saw it as his duty to promote Solunarium’s continued survival if he could, given the debt he owed its founders.

“It is not lost on me the animosity that exists toward me in Solunarium. I come to the Keeper of Faith in the interest of preserving the kingdom’s vision of harmony and unity with its Founders. The Imperator and Imperatrix and I have made our peace, but they have not seen fit to send that message to their masses. I have no desire to undermine that.” He shrugged. If Avaerys and Varvara wanted to change the narrative surrounding him, they would do it in their own time.

“So, I am coming to you to assist me in devising a means of empowering the Sceptre while deflecting my involvement to reassure your people that their patrons watch over them.” He gestured slightly to himself.

"I come to you as I am that you might see firsthand what a sliver of my true manifestation will be like when I perform the deed. Perhaps, in so doing, you might better prepare yourself and your flock."

[Pharaoh]

Vrædyn promptly averted his gaze from the lustrous entity before him, blinking away the blinding effects. Again he felt a surge of warmth at his crowned wrist, but this was not accompanied by the euphoria he'd felt at the obeisance of his flock.

The announcement about the faltering Sceptre was not news to him, and he found himself bemused at both the interest of Arcas as well as his approach to this encounter. It seemed oddly antagonistic, for someone with whom he'd had something of a working relationship, albeit never a warm one.

"I see..." He pursed his full lips, and stalked to the table. The room was empty, now. As if their meeting there was either unscheduled or so clandestine as to warrant complete privacy, even from the notoriously obedient guards and attendants who served in the Sentinel facility when they'd last met there. Arcas would know that other parts of the citadel were occupied, but that it was a skeleton crew compared to when he'd been relegated to dwelling the distant, desert fortress.

"You are an interesting deity. I have always found you thus..." He pulled out the high backed chair at the head of the table, and perched himself upon it. "This is not the first time you've come to treat with the mortal descendants of Those who hold greater stock in the matters you would address... You are a god and I am a mortal elf. Why dost thou condescend to come hither at my beck? Wherefore art thou bashful to broach your concerns with Them directly? Do you think this matter is beneath Their interest?" This was not the first time the Princeps Pontifex of Solunarium peppered Arcas with questions that intrigued him as a theologian. He was a curious and enthusiastic devotee of the Faith who knew more about foreign religions than most of his people, but struggled to comprehend certain themes that were aberrant to his own.

"Or perhaps..." Vrædyn paused, recalling that on a previous occasion he'd blacked out and found himself in the embrace of his Phædryn cousin whereupon he discovered that he had been a vessel for his Lord.

"...Perhaps you wish to use me to do just that. I do not know whether your Vastian hath improved since last we met, Arcas, but Pontifex is our word for 'Builder of Bridges'. Wouldst thou, lofty creature, use me for thy lodestone?" As he concluded his thought, he ran the tip of his tongue over the curling smirk that painted his upper lip. There was a golden glint in Vrædyn's silver eye that made it seem like Aværys' presence might already be sharing space with the willowy prince.

[Talon]

He found himself a seat, making himself comfortable as he considered the prince’s questions.

“Tell me, how is the Court of Gens Sol’Avaerys?” Folding his hands together he met Vraedyn’s gaze steadily. “Does it prosper? Does it grow beneath the guiding hand of its radiant Queen? Does it shine as the example that would bring forth Avaerys majesty?”

He quirked his brow, not breaking eye contact with the elven prince.

“You do not need to answer. Lest we forget, I was there on the day the Crownwyrm chose to invoke his ancestral right. A kingdom united in banner but divided in authority. A curious dilemma for the masses. Surely someone must have seen such a conspiracy coming?” He blinked at Vraedyn then leaned back into his chair. He adopted a contemplative expression.

“And on that subject, I do have to wonder what the Great Imperator thinks regarding conspiracies to thwart his return and in so doing, deny him of his right. I do not know Avaerys. I know only that he presides over the realms of Hunger, Ambition and Power. Perhaps he smiles on such a thing as a display of cunning, failed though it might have been.” Talon waved a hand over the surface of the table, conjuring an illusion of Thalya and Vraedyn standing in a shaft of light shining through the window of the royal council chambers. He had never successfully translated all of the material he had observed and listened to during his divine scrying but between continued conversations with Hilana, learning Vastian, and picking up on a few context clues, he could gather that Thalya had been none too pleased with both his appearance and his proposal. To this day, he had no idea what she exactly wanted to happen nor how she intended to execute whatever plan she had with Vraedyn but he was going to hazard a general guess in this instance.

Talon dismissed the illusion and folded his hands together.

“I do not know Varvara. I know only that she presides over the realms of Sacrifice, Chains and Domination. What I do know is that they love their people, for it was professed as much before me and my Father. So, for the sake of that love, I do what I have always done; crusade with mortals toward their future.” He had always been a demigod who had fought with and alongside mortals, perhaps far more than many of his counterparts. Across the ages, that was what he had done and it was what he had found worked best.

“Do I wish to use you as a means of building a bridge toward them? No. At least, not you directly.” He leaned forward then, staring at Vraedyn steadily.

“There is a yawning darkness threatening to swallow this world. But as I am yet occupied with things that are not of this mortal realm, I am unable to confront it directly myself. So I offer what assistance I can to bolster the strength of mortals in my absence.” He gestured lightly to Vraedyn.

“I am a Runesmith, Highness. I am a sorcerer of considerable power and skill but I am also a god who can invoke the divine realms of the Aetherium in acts that far surpass most mortal magics. Beyond Light, I preside over Hope and through it, I can devise a means of empowering the Sceptre to harness the Hope brought about by this realm’s faith in its gods to fuel the Light that shines upon it. You, as the Keeper of Faith, and Builder of Bridges, stood out to me as the individual most uniquely situated to offer insight into how this might be accomplished. But,” He held up a hand as though to stall any words from Vraedyn.

“...if that is not a role you are amenable to, I could just as easily seek the advice and counsel of His Exalted Highness, the Prince Arvaelyn. Whom I know shares a deeper relationship with the Founders.” Knowing that Arvaelyn possessed an Emblem from one of the Founders and that Finn did as well, would suit his purposes just as well.

[Pharaoh]

Vrædyn knitted his brow at the questions that answered his own. It didn't take a Grandmaster Mesmer to glean the belligerence in his delivery, but it was that much harder to miss for one so attuned to emotions. There was a time when he might have expected more austerity from a divine being, but having been graced by the presence of one, he was disabused of that notion.

"Do not take my curiosity for dismissal or dissuasion. I ask questions because I am a student of divinity and am fascinated by the subjects of my study. I leave the cross-examinations to my cousins of Gens Naxos. I do not know whether thou art accustomed to the overt displays of awe and obeisance that our Founders expect from Their devoted, but I cannot willingly offer those things to you without broaching apostasy... a fate worse than death to a true-hearted Solunarian, let alone the Keeper of the Faith."

He glanced down at the illusory invocation presented on the table between them, glimpsing his own figure with bemusement, at first, and then unveiled surprise when he realised the moment was a recollected reverie, rather than a fictional depiction.

"I wouldn't have taken Your Highness for a peeping Talon." He offered with a bit of a forced chuckle. He saw no purpose in feigning that he was stoical about or comfortable with this invasion. "But I can hardly begrudge you the gumption." He smoothed out the front of his robe, and crossed his legs, sitting back against his simulacrum of a throne as Arcas spoke on.

"Thou didst fain spy on me receiving my sovereign's order. Didst thou watch me on any other enlightening occasions? When I was bathing, perhaps..." A bit flirtatious, a bit facetious, Vrædyn's grin was impish.

"...Or perchance you observed all those opportunities I had to oblige Her Divine Radiance's lawless command. All of which I neglected to take." He may not have been altogether at ease, but he was one of the warmer figures amongst the Unbroken Line when it served him to be.

"My Faith is to a higher power than my Fealty. If ever the two be at odds, it is to Aværys higher crown I must needs defer. For her to ask that of me was, in a word, unconscionable."

"A lot changed on that fateful day of the jubilee: Arkænyn Princeps Platinum... Arvælyn Princeps Draconum... The Five emerged to stake their ancient claim, and I... found myself in a new, if not altogether unpredictable predicament. If you view me as an enemy because of my ostensible association to the Luxian Crown, know you this: I have been in regular correspondence with my Umbrian counterpart ever since the day we served as Their vessels. That day we both woke changed and touched by our Gods. Prince Arvælyn may be closer to She of the Scourge, but I..." He unclasped his hands to raise his wrist- the same one that had been bound to Phocion on that day when they were both possessed of the Founders. And that wrist was rounded by the same crown-like Emblem that now circled Finn's brow.

"...was chosen to walk the Radiant path. And even as we parley, Highness, He is with us. My eyes, ears and all of me are His." He smiled broadly, relishing the comfort he took in this religious truth.

"So, what is your plan and what is my place in it?"

[Talon]

“Faith, Princeps. My plan is faith.” Rising from his seat, he invoked his dominion over the realm of Light, bending it and manipulating it alongside his Rune of the Masquerade to create an illusion that spanned the breadth of the table in front of them. The familiar sight of the Luxium as seen from a bird’s-eye view materialized on the table. Above it was suspended the blazing sphere that was Ransera’s true sun.

“Aether is the lifeblood of this world. It is what sustains all things on a fundamental level. It exists in everyone and in everything.” He came to stand at the edge of the table. As he did so, people appeared in the streets of the city and in the countryside around it. Aethereal blue flames manifested within them.

“It flows in ley-lines all around us. Some currents are stronger than others.” Currents of aether appeared, following the natural ley-lines that formed a current in and around the city.

“I recognize that I do not need to explain all of this to you, but humor me.” He inclined his head to the Pontifex. “Imagine, if you will, that the aether within everyone and everything is a doorway. That door does not remain fixed your entire life. At times, it opens wider. At times it swings closer to being closed. But no matter what, it is always open, even if only slightly cracked.”

Illustrating this, the blue-bell flames inside of the people that walked the streets changed in size and even shape. Some were larger and burned more brightly. Some were dimmer or near non-existent.

“Mages are they who force the door open wider through the inscription of the Runes and the use of the World Magics to augment the natural flow of aether. Dragons, dragonshards, spirits, even gods, we all have this door inside of us that allows us to channel the power of the Aetherium.” He glanced up at Vraedyn to see if the prince was still following him. Talon waved his hand over the illusory projection of the Luxium. The Eclipse formed as a black sphere absent of light that crossed into the pathway of Ransera’s natural sun. Dark shapes cropped up from the shadows it cast and as soon as they appeared, the glowing lines of aether in both the natural currents and in people, began to flow toward both the Eclipse and the voidspawn that jumped to life.

“What we think we know, is that the Eclipse and the voidspawn are acting not as disruptions to the flow of aether as with abjinurium but as siphons.” He tweaked the illusion and added the presence of the Sceptre of Avaerys, which was itself an aethereal construct. The light it shed shielded that which was beneath its umbrella from the draining effects of the Eclipse and the voidspawn but the construct itself suffered the brunt of those effects, being steadily depleted on a continuous basis. The illusion shifted to show this as the currents of aether within the dome of the Sceptre’s light returned to normal but the light at the edges of that dome was steadily being sucked into the shadowspawn creatures and the Eclipse itself.

“Shaeoth has ascended to higher planes of divinity. His ascension caused the creation of a new Cardinal Rune of Magic. A rune tied to the shadows and the void. However, such an occurrence should have resolved itself by now if it followed the natural course of such things.” He only had the records of the Rune of Negation to go by but even those effects did not seem to have lasted this long.

“What I suspect happened is that someone or something has intervened and is sustaining the Eclipse directly. It is being used to siphon away power. For what purpose?” Talon shook his head. “I do not know. But they have essentially used the door that was opened by that event to continue this unnatural imbalance and worm their way into not just this door…”

He gestured to the black sphere that was the marker for the Eclipse.

“But all others as well. Doors they are working steadily to close. Permanently. This event was used as a key to whatever machinations they have in mind.” Talon looked at Vraedyn directly then.

“What I am proposing, is essentially changing the locks to the door of the Sceptre. To key it to a different source of power.” He nodded to the Sceptre of Avaerys. Three points of light appeared around it. There was the silver-white that represented himself, a volcanic golden light that represented Avaerys and a violet blue-black that represented Varvara.

“With the correct schema applied to the Sceptre of Avaerys by mages of sufficient practice, I can invoke my powers to bestow upon the Sceptre the power to be sustained not merely with the aether of mages manipulations but in the Hope that the masses have in their patrons, their Faith, Pontifex. Suddenly you have a shield sustained collectively by the faith of your people. Not invincible but a far stronger thing than it was before.” He allowed that notion to sink in theoretically. It would require the involvement of Runesmiths, Alchemists, Mesmers, Elementalists and most definitely Semblers, off the top of his head. The pictographs applied to the Sceptre would have to be the works of absolute masters of theoretical arcane knowledge and practice. He did not know if it would work but it was worth a try, because if it did work, that would mean it could be repeated elsewhere.

“I come to you, because you know the faith of the masses. You know what concepts are fundamentally ingrained into your people and your culture. I do not possess that knowledge, and such insight would be vital to the formation and application of concepts brought into the pictography that would be at play.”

[Pharaoh]

Vrædyn Princeps Pontifex, spiritual leader of a magocracy with a noted penchant for the æsthetic over the ascetic, was no stranger to impressive displays of arcane Craft. Illusions, conjurations, evocations, summonings and more were things he saw daily in his roles as both priest and prince. In the upper echelons of their society, awe was imposed so often toward the lower that is was, for him, less awesome. To see the Lord of Light ply the subject of his demesne before him was, however, a novel phenomenon.

"Exquisite." He found himself muttering. So focused was he upon the divine diorama, that he didn't even notice Arcas was waxing pedantic until the winged peregrinus asked to be humoured for it. His response was a wry smile and a firm nod. Now he was attentive to the words as well as the magical ministrations.

Vrædyn considered what was being said. He still attended meetings of the Regium Consilium- more than Her Divine Radiance at this point- so he was aware of the draining effect. The exhaustion of ætheric resources was the reason it was faltering now- Not because Solunarium was ill-equipped to feed the black beast above, but because a divided Solunarium was disinclined to expend resources that might give advantage to their counterparts. Thalya IV was hoarding resources and shoring up defences, paranoid for the wellbeing of herself and those closest to her with less concern for the greater populace than she'd displayed throughout her long and stable reign. The Zalkyrians were focused upon the transition of the Umbrium and the coronation of their Rex Draconum... or so Phocion claimed. Even with all the slender Sentinel's wards in place, Vrædyn knew his Phædryn cousins well enough to recognise there was more to it. This was a power play. If Thalya abandoned her subjects to the darkness, they would turn to those who deigned to protect them- shifting their fealty from the Elven to the Draconic Crown. This had Cithæra written all over it. Even this queer solution that brought Arcas into his presence.

"I see..." Vrædyn winced, suddenly jerking his head to one side as his silvery eyes glowed gold for a flash of a moment and he heard something in a primal part of his mind. He repeated it aloud:

"'Make a path.'" He glanced to Arcas, his eyes their normal shade of pale once again. "Do these words mean aught to thee? I heard the voice of my Lord intone these words most ominously when you spoke of opening doors and unnatural imbalances..." He trailed off, his mind returning to the more comprehensible matters at hand.

"I am a Solunarian prince and, thus, suspicious by nature. Whilst I believe your scheme beareth merit, I can see whereas it might be a ploy for thou to evangelise Their devout into worshipping thee. They are famously averse to being undercut, but He doth not speak words of warning into mine ear and thus do I infer that you are being granted the benefit of the doubt. I know not what accord was struck 'twixt thee and They at Kaladon, but shouldst thou vex Them it is a battle beyond the bridge of my construction." He offered with a humble bow of his head in acknowledgement of his own mortality and unworthiness to treat in certain concerns.

"I will aid thee."

[Talon]

His mind recalled the hungry words of Thultu as that monstrosity had spat out the entity that it had been chewing. He also recalled the broken eldritch words of Lyren, who had been so averse to repairing the Veil when the idea had been proposed.

“The words do carry weight, yes.” He regarded Vraedyn for a moment, recognizing that the message had come as a point of thought prompted from Avaerys. The contemplation of the true meaning of the words and the theory behind the Eclipse purpose was something he could discuss with the Founders, not Vraedyn. As such, he did not elaborate further. At the prince’s suspicion, he shook his head.

“Worship of me would be to the detriment of the schema that I have in mind. I told you, I am seeking your involvement as a means to deflect my own. Besides, the faith that is intended to be incorporated is the faith that uplifts your Founders. Your people’s faith in their gods, in Avaerys and Varvara, is where this strength will come from. As I am not a god worshipped, concepts tied to my praise would be counter to the cultural and spiritual concepts necessary to capture the psychic power of the kingdom’s collective consciousness. If you must employ your propagandists, I would encourage the use of them.” He reached out and pointed to the Emblem that was upon Vraedyn’s wrist.

“It is even better to know that you have that. I have ideas about involving the incorporation of their Emblems so as to reinforce the mechanisms of your faith so that it truly is the source sustaining the Sceptre.” He looked up at Vraedyn and by extension he was also speaking to Avaerys and Varvara.

“We might disagree on some things but I did mean what I said at Kaladon.” Talon would help them, so long as what they asked of him was not violently against his own beliefs. He was past the interest in waging wars. The Crusader of Justice was more interested in being an Architect of Hope. With the war between himself and his brother put to rest, he was quite ready to move on to a new chapter in his divinity. He had no doubt that there would be battles aplenty in the days ahead, but Talon was more interested in building than he was in destroying. At Vraedyn’s agreement to work with him, he bowed his head.

“Thank you. I will need to collaborate with the mages most well-suited to this task to develop the final schema to be applied to this project. Runesmiths to reforge the very substance of the Sceptre’s crystal to handle the collective power being gathered. Alchemists to transmute the energy at play. Mesmers to capture the collective power of the kingdom’s symphony. Elementalists to direct the natural flow of aether in the environment. I am certain there are others yet that I have not thought of.” He ran a hand through his hair, eyes trailing over the projection that was in front of them.

“In all my lifetimes, this is to be the first invocation of Hope’s Archmagic that I have ever used.” He cast Vraedyn a wry smile. “Let us hope it works.”

"I will return to my laboratory to begin work on my schematics. I will return in a few days. If it is amenable, I will utilize this citadel as the staging ground for my work. Unless there is a location closer to the Sceptre that is more suitable?" Talon did not know who all would need to be contacted across Solunarium to achieve this project. He did not know the full scope of Solunarium’s magical resources but he knew that they were a magocratic state.

He imagined that arcane masters from both the Luxium and the Umbrium would need to be involved. What that meant for the political state of things? He did not know nor was it his concern. If Vraedyn did not recognize this as an opportunity to strengthen his own political position, that was not his problem. Granted, given his limited knowledge of Solunarium’s politics, Talon could have been altogether wrong. After all, working in collaboration with your religion’s equivalent of an Archdemon could have the opposite effect. Time would tell and he would be focused more on the mechanics of ensuring the project’s success rather than its mortal political ramifications, interesting though they might be.

[Pharaoh]

"I understand." Vrædyn nodded, "I am loath to admit we are delving into realms beyond my current ken, but I am keen to expand my wealth of knowledge in this process." Arcas' argument was sound and salient enough to ease down the pontiff's proverbial hackles.

At the gesture toward his Mark, Vrædyn flexed his long fingers as he turned his arm to view the underside of the symbol.

"There are two of us with His and two with Hers. I believe you are familiar with all of us, so that should make it an easier collaboration. Finn and I have been working together comparing notes as we glean insight into our new abilities. I understand Arvælyn and Phocion have a similar arrangement."

Then Arcas spoke of Kaladon and what he'd said there, which was unknown to Vrædyn. He'd been present at the behest of the Founders far below the mount at the new Aurisian temple than linked their two realms, but he hadn't been party to what happened to resolve the ancient feud. By and by, he realised that Arcas wasn't really speaking to him in that moment. It was a strange thing to realise he was serving as an interlocutor between two gods. In a way it felt less strange to be wholly possessed, even though he'd wholly blacked out and woken in the buff in the arms of his cousin. Still, it was a consolation to hear Arcas make his case, rather than letting the problem lay at the feet of Aværys at some later date when unforeseen issues came to the fore.

Vrædyn tipped his head back and guffawed, then looked to Arcas realising it may not have been an intentional jape.

"Oh, it's just... You said 'This is to be the first invocation of Hope's Archmagic' and that you... hope... it works. That struck me funny. Sorry." He cleared his throat, and got very business-like once more.

"No, actually and this is entirely coincidental, this citadel is very well situated to access the Sceptre. May this happy happenstance betoken fortune's favour."

[Talon]

Talon let a smirk touch his lips as Vraedyn laughed. The joke had been subtle and he was glad that it had been appreciated. Still, there was much work to be done.

“Excellent. I will be returning to Kalzasi to collect both my staff and my materials. I can provide considerable insight into the mechanisms required to implement runeforging appropriately. However, I will need to collaborate with more academic minds with regard to the other fields of magic.” He looked to Vraedyn pointedly.

“In Kalzasi, we have the Circle of Spells. If there is an associated academy of magic for Solunarium, perhaps they could be consulted?” He knew that Solunarium was a magocratic state and by extension, he suspected there was either a society of mages or perhaps varying houses associated with the practice of magic specifically.

“I will return in a few days and begin my work of readying this citadel to become a proper laboratory for the work ahead. What would be most helpful would be the schematics and diagrams that were utilized to create the Sceptre of Avaerys, if such things exist. They will give me a solid foundation as to the inherent nature of it as it currently is.” Stepping back from the projection of the Luxium, he waved a hand, dismissing the illusion.

“This would also be an opportunity for you and Solunarium to incorporate aspects that might be useful to benefit the realm. As such, I would think carefully on any proposals you have for the spellcraft ahead.” After a pause, he opened his mouth then hesitated. He considered the work ahead of them for a moment, deciding ultimately to push forward with his query.

"I have assurances from the Umbrian crown that there is a decided interest in this endeavor succeeding." The way he phrased his statement, there was a question that hung at the end of his sentence. He had only what Cithaera had told him of the current state of Solunarium's politics to go by. He was already aware of Thalya's first attempt at subterfuge. The question remained whether or not there would be other such attempts.