7.
Sebastian and the others found themselves in the Eldenarian Council room for the second time in a few days. However, this time it wasn't for an emergency meeting.
This time, they were finally doing something to combat the Order of the Black Lotus.
The seven of them—Sebastian, Imogen, Ajax, Siren, Remy, Chieftain Naidini, and Olivier himself—were circled around the table in the center of the room. The orb of eldricite built into the black granite pulsed faintly with white light.
"So," Imogen said, breaking the silence filling the cavernous room like thick smoke, "how does this whole thing work."
"It—"
Olivier was cut off by his son, who raised his hand. The man pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, Remy?"
"I'll answer this one if you don't mind."
His father tiredly gestured for him to continue.
Smiling, Remy turned to Imogen. Unbeknownst to him, he had just successfully annoyed everyone else in the room. Sebastian was often impressed by his sheer knowledge and photographic-like memory when it came to anything magic-related.
This was not one of those times.
"Eldricite is like gold to us," the boy explained. "Not only is it rare, but it serves a variety of purposes. Our vayrirs are even made out of it."
Imogen blinked at him. "Wait, they are? Those weapons you guys make out of thin air are made out of that stuff?"
"He's half-right. Our vayrirs are a combination of our souls and a physical, tangible element," Siren answered. "But, in short, yes it's made out of elricite."
Imogen nodded slowly.
"Anyways," Remy continued, "eldricite. It's got a lot of purposes. One of them includes taking in vitalae and storing it for future use." He leaned over the table and patted the large orb of magical material. "It may not look like it, but this is a lot of eldricite. Once my dad performs the spell, he'll be able to use his energy and the energy stored inside to broadcast a message to whoever he wants it to reach."
"Well, that's convenient," Imogen said.
"Very."
Sebastian resisted the urge to curl into a ball and fall asleep on the floor. "Thank you for the lesson, Professor Remy. Can we get this going now?"
"Let's," Olivier said. The man approached the center of the table. He placed both palms on the orb of eldricite and closed his eyes. His lips moved rapidly as he mumbled an incantation. The mark in his right hand shone with golden light. The bright rays bled into the stone beneath his hands. Shards of golden, translucent rays shot out from all angles, illuminating with room in the process.
Sebastian could feel the warmth on his face as magic filled the room. His eyes widened at the spectacle before him.
"Wow," Imogen said, awestricken.
Olivier smiled and removed his hands from the orb. It maintained its bright glow. His hand fished into the pocket of his pants. Moments later, he retrieved a folded piece of parchment—which likely held the contents of the speech he was about to give. He unfolded the paper and scanned it once, then twice.
Out the corner of his eye, Sebastian noticed Imogen staring intensely at the man. Her hazel eyes were narrowed and her lips were slightly puckered. He arched an eyebrow.
Olivier stepped back up to the orb of eldricite, ready to deliver his message to the Solair communities of the world.
Sebastian shifted his weight onto his other foot. An unexplainable feeling of nervousness flooded into him as if a dam had broken.
Olivier cleared his throat and began speaking.
"To all those who are receiving this message, this is Olivier Moreau, interim head of the Eldenarian Council and leader of House Lumai, speaking. As you may be well aware, we are at war. The Order of the Black Lotus, led by Thorian Thauvin and magicians from House Tenebris, has declared war on the council and its members. Not only is our great institution at stake, but so is the greater world around us. While we may not see eye-to-eye with the Ordinaires, we cannot stand by while Thorian plots mass genocide along with world domination. However, they are not the only ones in danger. If Thorian wins this war, we all will be forced to submit to his will."
Sebastian tried to mask his frown, but he couldn't prevent it from showing on his face.
The man's speech was formal. Too formal. It sounded like he was reading a report. A quite boring one at that. No one would respond to that. To make matters worse, he had centered his call-to-action around the Ordinaires and their safety.
Sebastian knew the Solairs—and even the Eldairs who hadn't committed to a side yet—wouldn't be impressed with that. In fact, it might have even pushed them into joining the opposite team.
He stepped forward to interrupt, but Olivier kept talking before he got the chance.
"Our freedom hangs in the balance. If Thorian succeeds in his quest of acquiring all seven of the Eldenarian artifacts, he will truly be unstoppable. We must defeat him before that happens. If not..." His words faltered. He shot an uncertain glance at the young magicians watching him off to the side. "I fear the world as we know it will cease to exist."
Sebastian's stomach tightened at his words.
He hadn't given too much thought to what the world would look like if his father did win. Partially because he didn't want to think negatively, but mainly because he couldn't even fathom it. His father having total control of the planet and all of those within it? Just the thought of it made him want to curl into a ball and cry.
Shuddering, he forced the thought out of his head.
Thorian won't win. The Solairs will come and we'll stop him. We have to.
"If we stand any chance of defeating the Order," Olivier continued, "we will need all the assistance we can get. The Eldenarian Council humbly asks for your assistance. With your help, we can vanquish the great darkness looming over us and begin the rebuilding process of what has been destroyed by Thorian Thauvin. I truly hope that you heed this message and find it in your heart to join us here at the Eldenarian Council. Thank you, and good luck."
The man nodded to himself and stretched a hand toward the eldricite orb—presumably to sever his connection with those he had gotten into contact with.
Before his fingers could grace the golden sphere, Imogen sprang forward with her palm raised. Olivier turned toward her, eyes wide.
"What're you—"
A petrification charm slammed into his chest. The silver residue from the spell cascaded over the man's body before it dissipated like smoke. Soon, an entire stone casing had covered his once fair complexion. His hand had stopped just a few centimeters away from the orb on the table. His surprised expression was now frozen on his stony face.
Imogen had turned him into a statue.
Sebastian stared at her with his jaw hanging open.
Remy whipped his head around to glare at her. He stomped up to the girl. She didn't retreat.
"What the hell did you do that for?!" His face quickly reddened as he shouted at her.
"It'll wear off soon," she told him. "At least, that's what the book told me..."
"You hope?!" Remy's mouth twitched. "What do you mean you hope?!"
"Calm down!" Imogen shouted. "He'll be fine."
Ajax crossed his huge arms. However, he wasn't looking at Imogen. He was staring right at Sebastian. The look on his face screamed "told you she was a traitor. With his face burning red, Sebastian responded by not making eye contact with the orange-haired battlemage.
Siren stepped forward with her hands on her hips. "Imogen, explain yourself."
"Look, that speech Olivier gave isn't going to convince anyone to join us," she replied. She shot Remy an apologetic look. He replied with a disdainful shake of his head. "I need to give this message. I can't explain it but...something is telling me that I need to do this."
Sebastian glanced at Remy. "The Bridge?"
"Yeah, yeah." He jabbed his index finger at the girl. "You better unfreeze my dad after you're done."
"Actually," Siren interjected, "that spell won't wear off."
Remy blanched.
Imogen's face scrunched up in confusion. "Huh?"
"You were thinking of a petrification spell," Siren explained. "But the one you performed was a statufication spell. Both charms have similar sequences. It's quite easy to get them mixed up."
"You turned my dad into a statue?!"
Sebastian cringed at the sound of his yelling. Had the situation not been a serious one, he would've laughed. Imogen turning Olivier into a statue had to have been one of the funniest things he had experienced.
"Not on purpose!" she argued. She faced Siren, eyes pleading. "We can fix it, right? There's gotta be some kind of countercharm or something."
"No, there isn't," Siren said.
Imogen's face fell.
"But we can reverse it with a concoction," she added. "Luckily, the palace's greenhouse should have the materials I need to reverse the effects." She grabbed Ajax's hand. "Come with me."
He nodded at her and the two of them made their way to the exit of the council room. Before they left, Ajax looked at Sebastian and Imogen.
"I hope you know what you're doing."
"I don't," Sebastian admitted. "But I think she does."
Imogen nodded. "I do. Trust me."
He studied her for a moment. Something flickered in his emerald-colored eyes for a split second. Finally, he snorted and turned to follow Siren out of the room.
Sebastian turned to Imogen. "Do you know what you're going to say?"
"I told you," she said as she approached the table, "I'm going to wing it."
"You do know you're currently linked to about a few thousand people across the globe, right? You can't just wing it."
She stopped. She now wore a deathly serious expression.
"Do you trust me?"
Sebastian pursed his lips. "Of course I—"
"Do you trust me?"
He swallowed hard. Did he?
His mind went back to the forest in Vashara where he and the others tried to flee his father and the man's undead army. Had it not been for Imogen, his father might have killed him. Then he thought of the time he and Makaela got arrested after breaking back into House Lumai's Montreal base. If Imogen never knocked out that detective and helped them escape the precinct, who knows where they would have been right now?
Despite being related to the Arkangels, she had never been anything more than trustworthy.
He nodded at her.
"I trust you."
She smiled at him. "Good." She took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing..."
And, with that, she began her speech to the world's population of magicians.
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