The Blinding

Chapter 2 - Samakaab

The hut gradually filled with members of the Council as I waited for the meeting to commence.
Aweys, our recordkeeper, meticulously documented all things related to magicians. As our historian, he bore the responsibility of tracking new magicians born in our lands, the emergence of new magical families, their respective gifts, tribal affiliations, and the population within those tribes. Nothing escaped his watchful eye.

Turning away from the entrance, he lifted his hands, delicately beginning the incantation for a modest privacy spell. Ethereal silver tendrils spiraled from his fingertips, interlacing and constructing a protective canopy over the central table. It might not be the mightiest of enchantments, but it was sufficient to ensure our discussions remained our own.

"What now?" I didn't bother turning around; the irritation in Aweys' voice was unmistakable.

"We listen and hope they reveal their intentions," I mumbled.

"You're always plotting something. Come on, brother, the Council awaits."

Aweys brushed past me, eager to take his seat. After mentally noting to check in with him about the magician population, I followed my brother deeper into the tent. He moved through the room, swiftly assessing the attendees.

As the leader of the Council of Resistance, I occupied the head of the circle. Aweys, my brother and second in command, settled at the opposite end. The distant sounds of Legacy Day festivities permeated the hut's walls, a reminder that such celebrations were unfolding throughout the nation, even here in Bulhar. To the untrained ear, we might seem merely to be reveling like the rest. However, only the magicians knew that the council was convening tonight, as it had for the past two decades, using Legacy Day – a holiday of ancestral reverence – as a veil for our clandestine gatherings. Twelve of the most formidable mages in the land, representing storied bloodlines, gathered within the confines of this modest tent.

"What's the first order of business, Hibo?" I initiated the meeting.

Hibo ranked fourth in the council but held the top spot in the north. She served as our intelligence officer, responsible for staying informed about events in the shifter and seer worlds. A true caller, she possessed the ability to charm animals, and her extensive network of spies kept us informed, helping us stay one step ahead of our pursuers.

"The Foretold," Hibo announced.

My gaze shot to Hibo. With those two words, she had ensnared the council's attention. Unique among us, Hibo possessed the ability to converse with small animals. In a world where most forms of significant magic had been silenced, her once deemed inconsequential gift had taken on new weight. For years, we had been striving to unravel the prophecy of the Foretold. Bereft of influential seer allies, we depended on the fragments of whispers Hibo received from birds and cats. Through these snippets, we knew this prophecy bore tales of persecution, suffering, and death, but also carried with it a promise of our eventual redemption.

"Do you have new information to add to the existing lines?" I inquired, maintaining an even tone but heightening the room's tension.

"With the first bloom of the great tree, the cobra will be found, the great war will begin, and the spear will be broken."

To others, the new lines might have seemed like gibberish, mere words strung together into a sentence. But to us, they held profound significance.

"Hibo, is this the complete prophecy?" I asked, trying to contain my excitement. After years of searching, like everyone else in the room, I was eager to learn more.

"Yes," Hibo replied. "My sources indicate as much."

Upon hearing the new lines, I began to realize that our focus needed to shift. As I looked out at the pensive faces of the council, I knew it was time to mobilize like never before.
A new dawn approached, and our moment had arrived. I leaned back in my chair, deep in thought, while the eyes of the council members remained fixed on me. "The protests in the slums were intensifying in the cities of Sarapion, here in Bulhar, Miandi, Botiala, and even as far as Nikon. But would it be sufficient?" I contemplated.