The grass bent easily under the unrelenting heel of his thick leather boots. His midnight black cloak envelopes his broad frame concealing the smart well groomed suite beneath. A single sapphire rose pin holds the Teutonic cloak shut over his right shoulder. A voluptuous hood conceals his strong face hiding his intense brown eyes from the afternoon sun. Pausing amidst the field he lifts a smooth hand, revealing a light brown skin coloration, to chest height with his palm facing away and arm out stretched
“Rector terra ut pacis incendia!” His rich voice rumbled barely above a whisper.
The empty air before his palm shimmered as it might over a hot desert surface. From the shimmering air a golden arch of pure energy formed and then vanished the man passing through it. He continued to walk on not bothering to even glance back at the golden dome that now encompassed his environment concealing it from the outside world. He now found his boots clicking boldly along a brick path that wound through an immaculate garden. The path led to a large Victorian mansion set on the crest of small hill. Large oak doors with brass eagle knockers granted access to the polished building. An aged butler opened the grand doors as the cloaked man ascended the brick steps nodding as he simply brushed passed him.
His boots echoed through the grand halls as he strode with confidence towards the great hall. Before opening the large door beyond which the others awaited he casual checked the dagger that rested on his belt ensuring it remained flat against his body. Behind the door was a large mahogany round table sat with thirteen high backed chairs around it. The chair directly across the door was taller and more ornately engraved than the others. A man in a charcoal suite sat quietly in upon its black leather cushion watching the door with his keen hazel eyes that leered through steeple fingers. His long gray main of hair was the only sign that he was an individual of age. As the cloaked man took position before the only empty chair, at the elders right hand, the others stood and grasped the hilts of the ornate long swords that lay before each seat bringing them up to a salute as one.
“Pax Eternus Incendia!” They recited with one voice the ancient words echoing around the room.
“And so my sons,” The elder’s voice was strong and heavy as he spoke once they were all seated again. “it is with heavy news we gather. That which we have been working towards for many a year is threatened by an new player on the field that has remained hidden even to our all seeing gaze until now.” He turned his demanding gaze upon the last man to walk into the room. “Tell me what do we know of Albion?”
“They are a small nation, with great power. Unlike the others they combine both magic and science into a unified whole with amazing results. They have no ambitions for conquest, or for seeing their ideals become the unilateral standard for all beings upon Gaia. They merely desire peace, and claim that their ancestors that shielded them at the time of the collapse had no ulterior motivations for doing so. They have begun several expeditions into the world beyond their boarders to learn and further their knowledge of the past and the present, despite the obvious signs of war that they have already witnessed. Should they discover that there are members of both current factions which desire peace and harmony they could become a serious threat to our endeavors with this war.” The cloaked man answered readily.
“A threat?” Another hooded figure, this one with a slightly higher pitched voice that had a condescending tone to it, chuckled. “The information I have gathered has shown that they will be more of an aid to our cause than a hindrance.”
“In what manner you foresee these new-comers being an aid to our cause?” The elder asked only shifting his gaze from one man to the other.
“Unlike the others they have retained much knowledge of the world before the merging and from even further back than that. At this moment only one faction holds any interest in search out the old site and ancient knowledge, and only because they seek the device—and we all know how fruitless of a search that will be—think of the advancement we could potentially achieve should these new comers continue to extend their expeditions. The issue that I can see them causing is a premature end to the events we have placed into motion.”
“Then we must look to our ties within the new comers, if we are to prolong events to achieve our desires.” The elder commented looking to another man across the table.
The third voice to speak was strong and elegant and spoke with a solid cadence. “Albion officials hold themselves to a very high moral standard, beyond anything we have seen for some time within the world. But their government is not impervious. Time is all we’ll need to weave a proper web and then with it the right pressure may be applied to the right strand at the right moment.”
“Can they be pulled in?” The elder asked casually already knowing what the answer would be.
“Once the proper leverage has been applied they will enter believing theirs to be a just cause worthy of their endeavors and sacrifices.” A general chuckle echoed around the table.
“Good then we will continue undaunted by the change of events.” The elder smirked rising from his chare he waved his hand in a circular motion around the table. The swords shimmered and were replaced with jeweled silver goblets filled to the brim with crimson liquid. “Let us drink to what shall be.”
The twelve figures stood as once lifting the goblets over head and spoke with one voice.
Our eternal Father
Grant us thy gift
By the blood of the pure
Cleans our spirit
By the blood of the pure
Rejuvenate our bodies
We the Eternal Keepers
Ask of the!
As one they drank the crimson liquid until each goblet was drained. The elder watched with a grin as they placed the goblets on the table and closed the brief meeting by reciting the words they had opened with. The elder then embraced each of the twelve as they exited the room. The cloaked man lingering behind until it was just him and the elder and as they embraced he drew the dagger from his belt plunging into his ribs piercing his lungs.
“So this is the end Judas.” The elder commented gasping from breath as he collapsed into the man’s arms.
“No,” The rich voice whispered into the dying man’s ear. “this is how it begins.”
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