The dim glow of enchanted lanterns cast flickering shadows across the war room's polished obsidian table. Thalion leaned against the edge, his fingers tracing the rim of a half-empty teacup as he studied the scattered reports before him. The scent of bergamot and aged parchment hung heavy in the air.
Outside, the distant crash of waves against Aeris' cliffs underscored the tension thickening between the Sanctum Council members gathered around the table. Their hushed arguments about Princess Vivienne's latest political maneuverings had reached a fever pitch.
Thalion's yellow eyes flicked toward the chamber's arched doorway where a familiar silhouette lingered just beyond the threshold. He'd been expecting this meeting, though the timing was... inconvenient. With a subtle flick of his wrist, he dismissed the glamour disguising his true features - no need for masks with this one.
"Took you long enough," he murmured, pouring a second cup without asking. He slid it across the table with a single finger. "I trust you didn't let the acolytes see you skulking about? Last thing we need is more sanctimonious priests poking their noses where they don't belong."
