The 10 Masters of Isunia sat at a semicircular table staring at the images of eight students floating in front of them. It was the early hours of the morning; most students had long gone to bed.
"Are we all in agreement that it will be these eight?" Emmaline asked.
"I still think they are too young," Zayla said, "But they are the best of the volunteers."
"We've been over this a million times," Abindra replied wearily, "The other countries will be less suspicious of a group of students than they would a group of professionals."
"They are skilled enough," Sylvain said. "But not so skilled that we would have to worry about any one of them taking the stone for themselves."
"As long as Isac does his job properly."
"Excuse me! When have I EVER failed at this kind of work? These kinds of binding hexes are my specialty."
"That's enough! Are we all in agreement then?"
The Masters all nodded and Abindra waved her arm and the images disappeared.
"Then I'll summon them right away." Adrissa closed her eyes, sending out a telepathic summon to the students.
"Most of them will be asleep now. Shouldn't we go in person?"
"Not to worry. I made sure to make the message loud enough to wake them."
Emrin had been working when the message came booming into her head. COME TO THE MASTERS' ROOM NOW. The shock caused her to knock over her third (or was it her fourth?) cup of coffee all over the notes she had been painstakingly making. Emrin swore loudly and cast a spell to dry the papers, but in her tired state, only succeeded in blowing them off her desk and scattering them about her room. Emrin sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. What time was it? Late. Or early, depending on how you saw it. She quickly gathered the ruined notes and stacked them in a messy pile on her desk. She'd have to wait until her return to deal with them.
Emrin entered the Masters' room and bowed politely, trying not to let her annoyance show on her face. Master Sylvain saw her disheveled state and grinned, "Another late night Emrin? I hope we didn't interrupt you." Master Sylvain was the only professor teaching Rune Theory at the university. He knew all of his students well.
"No worries, Master Sylvain. It wasn't important." She replied curtly.
"Take a seat," he said gesturing to seven chairs arranged in front of the Masters. "You're the first one here."
"Are we all in agreement that it will be these eight?" Emmaline asked.
"I still think they are too young," Zayla said, "But they are the best of the volunteers."
"We've been over this a million times," Abindra replied wearily, "The other countries will be less suspicious of a group of students than they would a group of professionals."
"They are skilled enough," Sylvain said. "But not so skilled that we would have to worry about any one of them taking the stone for themselves."
"As long as Isac does his job properly."
"Excuse me! When have I EVER failed at this kind of work? These kinds of binding hexes are my specialty."
"That's enough! Are we all in agreement then?"
The Masters all nodded and Abindra waved her arm and the images disappeared.
"Then I'll summon them right away." Adrissa closed her eyes, sending out a telepathic summon to the students.
"Most of them will be asleep now. Shouldn't we go in person?"
"Not to worry. I made sure to make the message loud enough to wake them."
Emrin had been working when the message came booming into her head. COME TO THE MASTERS' ROOM NOW. The shock caused her to knock over her third (or was it her fourth?) cup of coffee all over the notes she had been painstakingly making. Emrin swore loudly and cast a spell to dry the papers, but in her tired state, only succeeded in blowing them off her desk and scattering them about her room. Emrin sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. What time was it? Late. Or early, depending on how you saw it. She quickly gathered the ruined notes and stacked them in a messy pile on her desk. She'd have to wait until her return to deal with them.
Emrin entered the Masters' room and bowed politely, trying not to let her annoyance show on her face. Master Sylvain saw her disheveled state and grinned, "Another late night Emrin? I hope we didn't interrupt you." Master Sylvain was the only professor teaching Rune Theory at the university. He knew all of his students well.
"No worries, Master Sylvain. It wasn't important." She replied curtly.
"Take a seat," he said gesturing to seven chairs arranged in front of the Masters. "You're the first one here."