BECMI Chapter 358 – Zanzyran Politics at its Finest

It was not a pleasant smile, to be sure. When Avanlit Erewahr turned her gaze upon Prince Drakkar, his expression fell right to the floor. But as Belle’s representative started toward him, a red-haired elf in Belle’s entourage shimmered and grew a foot in height, plainly revealing her true form… of almost crystalline red hair, ruby scales accenting exotic features, a rippling power present in her that no elf had, and clearly draconic features.The scroll Messime was holding in her hand looked like it was made of diamonds, and she followed Avanlit with a stalking gait that gave no illusions as to her target was.

Avanlit gave Drakkar no words, and no one but Drakkar heard Messime’s words to him, but the Marshall of Zanzyr also paled as he accepted the glittering scroll from her.

Knowing all eyes were upon him, he opened the plainer scroll first.

As before, the words visibly flared and vanished as he read them, but his expression grew grimmer and grimmer as they did. When it was done, the scroll fell apart into black motes that vanished before hitting the floor, but his expression was, if anything, even lower.

He had a heavy hand as he opened up the diamond scroll, and unrolled it before the whole of Parliament.

They all heard the in-drawn breath and the crackling of deep, powerful flames, which every experienced wizard there recognized as a prelude to a dragon breathing out its burning breath.

The Scroll hovered there, shattering into sparkling motes as he read the words, his gaze dull and almost uncomprehending as he did so. When he was finished, it was gone, and the wizards in the room shook as a distant triple roar of a dragon washed across their souls.

Messime had a firm smile on her face as she strolled back to her place in the Erewahr delegation, her half-dragon form flowing into her former elfin appearance to better blend in as she did so.

Prince Drakkar looked rather ashen in contrast, and certainly in no mood to continue his arguments and grandstanding. What posture he had was definitely forced as he took to his Princely seat and fell into curt silence. With him, the rest of House Grafburg broke off their politicking, feeling the winds shifting hard, and were not willing to confront them alone.

Avanlit was already heading for House Argencal. A tic developed in the cheek of the blue-haired, tall, elegantly-attired, and handsome Master of Air as she glided up, and presented him the scroll in both hands.

“That is a Delphan Seal!” Prince Guilimani spluttered, pointing and shaking his finger. “What matters does Delpha have in the affairs of Zanzyr!? This is open treachery before all of us!” he raged.

Everyone totally ignored him as Prince Danelu opened up the Scroll, and then shook as a cool wind felt only in the soul moved past everyone.

The Scroll was like vapor, the words upon it crackled and vanished into mists and wisps as he read them. When he was done, the Scroll broke apart, save for a single winding rose wrought of mists glittering with rainbow edges… and a sizzling, sparkling core.

The Prince swallowed deeply, and then bowed to the floating rose, which broke apart before him with a pop of lightning dispersing it all.

“The First Master of Air has spoken.” He said it quietly, but his acknowledgment echoed loudly in the room, the implications rolling and ominous.

The First Master of Air Elementalism was alive, and living in Delpha?! It was enough to make Prince Guilimani pale and suck in his breath. That meant… long before he was even alive, and Zanzyr was a nation, someone in Delpha knew about Zanzyr and the magic here?

The way the Air Elementalists among the Argencal delegation almost fell down trying to get to their seats wasn’t ignored, either. Clearly this was an authority that clearly exceeded that of Prince Danelu, the current High Master of Air Elementalism in Zanzyr!

“I demand the Princess Erendyl disclose her connections to Delpha!…” Prince Guilimani blared out, except every word grew fainter and fainter, until his screaming gesticulations were no more than whispers only his sycophants could hear.

Indeed, no more conversation was audible at all in the chamber, just the swish of robes and skirts as Avanlit came smiling up to the Archduke of Westbursh, a jade scroll in her hand.

Archduke Nausrommus took the scroll with his good arm, glancing at Prince Guilimani speculatively, as he was by sufferance a member of House Nerocuori. His shriveled and withered left arm hidden under his aquamarine robe, the rather bent but bright-eyed elder True Archmage opened the scroll with a gesture.

Everyone felt rain splash across their skin, flinching instinctively as it did so. The Scroll flowed into liquid form, ink danced and dispersed across it as the Archduke read the words, nodding once, twice, and then again, bowing deeply as the Scroll drained away into nothingness… and a gentle rose, winding with every color of blue and green and crystalline waters, flowed into existence for a long moment, before quietly dissipating into light and was gone.

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“The First Master of Water has spoken,” he uttered, Prince Guilimani wincing as he did so. Of course, their relationship was only nominal to begin with, as Westbursh had the chance to become a Prince and peer. It was more about maintaining friendly relations, and so Prince Guilimani had been very careful not to offend the powerful, knowledgeable, and wise Master of Water.

The door to the Council chambers creaked open, and Grandmaster Jean-Arc strode into the room.

Normally his entries were low-key and quiet, almost a protest that he had to be here, a display of patience and long-suffering tolerance of the antics that went on here.

“Who dares interfere in the affairs of Zanzyr?!” he growled, his strides long and with energy and purpose, very much unlike his normal self. Power crackled in the air as his dark eyes fixed on the Erendyl delegation. “Consult you now with foreign powers to take Zanzyr as you wish, Princess Erewahr?!” he demanded in a thunderous tone that no magic was going to suppress.

Relieved mages began to smile. This play for power was going to be cut cold in its tracks, and by the Grandmaster himself, no less! It served the elven witch right…

Except the faces of Houses Grafburg, Argencal, and Tillian did not look at all relieved or impressed by the Grandmaster’s arrival.

Princess Brittabelle calmly removed four more scrolls from her sleeve, handing them to Avanlit silently as everyone watched breathlessly. Avanlit turned, walked up to the glaring Grandmaster, and presented the Scrolls, of burning copper, flowing jade, cloudy silver, and gleaming gold, to him.

He stared at her, at the Erendyl elves, and most especially at the two humans sitting among them, his eyebrows rising in amazement as he gazed at them. Sensing his attention, Isadora and Hammel turned to look at him in return, and something crackled and broke in the Grandmaster’s Aura, as if his hold on magic had been contested and neutralized.

Breaths caught, now focused on the two humans among the elves. Just who were they?

The Grandmaster’s dark gaze turned more somber as he gazed at those Scrolls, and hesitantly reached out to grasp the first.

At his touch, all four of them promptly rose into the air before him. Fires ran down, waters formed a surface, clouds displayed print, and etched sigils stood out upon shards of metal.

They all glowed with a Light that was extremely powerful, and had the Wizards there shuddering and wanting to kowtow before it. The knowledgeable among them swore, because that was a Light it was forbidden to call upon in Zanzyr: the Light of Immortals!

And now FOUR of them were facing the Grandmaster!

He glared at them, and he scowled. Then he winced, and then he glowered. He took a deep breath, his anger visibly rising, grip creaking on his Staff of office… and then he let it go.

“I concede on this point, assuming it comes to a proper vote.”

The four Scrolls flowed together, four different Elements became one multi-hued rose of impossible, sublime beauty, impossible to look at… and then it was quietly gone from the presence of the awed mages.

Avanlit smiled, and turned to hand the scroll she had just been given to Isadora McMikal and Hammel Guntervund

The dark-haired, green-eyed wizardess and stolid, bespectacled wizard stood together to receive it, accepting it and watching it rise before her in another sheet of gold with raised sigils, the ringing of bells echoing in the soul across the silent Parliament chamber as the words resolved under her gaze.

Both of them bowed, but it was Hammel who spoke. “The First Master of Earth has spoken,” he confirmed, and gestured to the side.

A figure rose up out of the floor, a sculpture in rock of surpassing detail, frozen in mid-casting with a look of horror on her face, plainly seeing what was happening to her and unable to do anything about it.

The petrified figure moved with a grinding sound across the floor and plopped onto the seat next to Prince Drakkar, who stared at it in numb shock.

His aunt Gretchen Unterkind, Archmage and Master of the Earth Elementalists.

No, Master of the Earth Elementalists, he and every other knowledgeable wizard in the chamber realized, turning their eyes on Hummel thoughtfully. They couldn’t see through him, but a glance at the Grandmaster indicated only indifference, which was as good as approval at this display of power and authority.

“Judge Jughamya, permission to address Parliament?” Princess Brittabelle asked with calm deference.

There were immediate calls in opposition, especially from Colorajo and Nerocuori, but for some reason they were very quiet, little more than whispers. The Tukhmani Judge from House Lhamsa smiled at the power move as the rest of Parliament was very quiet, indeed, and rapped his gavel down.

The sound went off like a cannon shot, BANG! Those trying to call out and furiously weaving spells to make their wishes known via illusion or other means literally fell over backward into their seats in shock, robes and skirts flaring revealingly, while papers went flying over half the chamber.

The Judge raised his eyebrows in amusement, the Grandmaster merely looked interested, and rapped his gavel down twice more.

BOOM! CRASH!

Wizards held onto their papers with grit teeth as the sound filled the chamber, and stopped any grandiose attempts at interfering.

The look and thin smile Prince Jughamya gave his gavel of office assured everyone that he was definitely going to inquire into the magic that allowed him to silence everyone so effectively. “You may address the chamber, Princess Erewahr,” he indicated magnanimously, gavel poised, and nobody said anything as she rose and walked to the podium.

“In the interests of national security and the threats building upon our borders, especially to the west,” the nobles blinked, the first they were hearing of this, “House Erewahr calls for an immediate vote as to the establishment of the new Prince of Caeledon. House Erewahr nominates Isadora McMikal, Overmagus of Earth and student of the Great School, as Prince of Caeledon, her home province, in the absence of Prince MacKlannister and his Heirs. With her will stand her husband, Hammond Guntervund of Inclu, Overmagus and High Master of the School of Earth Elementalism.”

There was dead silence as the two humans among the Erewahr delegation rose, and a heavy, dense magical will filled the chamber of Parliament.

Zanzyr suddenly had not merely one, but THREE Overmagi present here!

Those in the know would certainly go looking into their background, and find out the two had graduated but five years ago! In that time they had somehow managed to eclipse the power of every mage in Zanzyr, save the Grandmaster himself, AND had just ruthlessly taken away the High Mastery of Earth!