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Dalaran

[First thing first: SUPERB WRITING! Seriously, I can't believe how you're managing to do all of this.]

I walk to my window and look at the city of Dalaran. "First, let me assure you that the Archivists will be done away with. They are of no use to me. But I want to tell you something before I give the order."

I pause to double-check that all the charms preventing outsiders from hearing anything said within the room are intact. "For all my talk about Hesperia, about its people, about safety, about freedom, I am a simple man. I do not care for those things. I say things of beauty, things that people can rally behind, things they find easy to support, to ensure they are willing to go against their better judgement and do as I tell them to.

No matter how grand Hesperia might become due to my leadership, one day it will be crushed and forgotten. No matter how free and happy the people are under my rule, they'll die and even their progeny will cease respecting me for that as decades go on. No matter how just I am, one day people will look past that and see all my shortcomings and judge me as if they were here, making these choices for me.

As a young man, I thought I could make a difference by rising in the ranks of Dalaran's magocracy. When I realised the foolishness of that thinking through my study of history, I almost killed myself, faced with the futility of my own life.

Today I begin to prove myself wrong. I will change the world. I will be remembered. Future generations will cower in the shadow of my memory..."

I take calming breaths. I had almost raised by voice in that last part. Zinizar gives a little laugh under her breath and then quips about this being my third speech within a few hours. I smile and agree with her.

After taking a sip of fine wine, I look into her blood-red eyes. "You are one of the first people I can relate to on a personal level. With most people, I can just see their struggles to survive or to indulge themselves. Whenever a person doesn't have to work to live anymore, they will sink into a pitiful state of hedonism and greed, always seeking more just because they want more.

I do not consider myself to be in that state. I strive for more, yes, but I seek more than the immediate goals of pleasure and gratification. I desire to do something that I will never be able to enjoy and will never even know whether I succeeded in doing. I see that in you too. You support me not because it would ease your conscience to know your fellow Zininists are not suffering prejudice, but because you are chasing something more, a change in the world around you.

I..."

I open my mouth to continue, but no more words come out. After a moment's silence, I nod my head to nothing in particular. "I trust you will not speak to anyone of my revelations, thank you. Now let us leave down below and have the matter of the archivists taken care of." That is not what I originally meant to say, but it will have to do.

[insert Zinizar's reaction here, if necessary]


We exit the highest tower of the Violet Citadel. I call for Archmage Franek, my right hand. He is to leave with General Leo tomorrow (Archmage Augusta leaves with General Marius), which means he is open to use tonight.

"Archmage. Gather nine other wizards as well as one hundred soldiers from my elite corps. You have half an hour." I leave the cause unsaid, but I trust Franek will only call those most loyal to me.

As I sit waiting for the men to gather, I am struck with inspiration and call for Mayor Remus, the highest non-wizard authority of the city. The Archivists' eternal work of prophecy is too much a risk. It will attract all kinds of dangers, possibly. "Yes, of course", I mutter to myself as I think the plan through.

When the mayor arrives, I explain what I want of him. The empty space under the great gathering hall, where the wine cellar used to be before it was moved a few years ago, will be prepared to house the entire collection of prophecy from the Archivists. The entire work will be done by workers who do not know what the room will be used for, and they will be paid well, but not enough to attract attention.

I will enchant the cellar myself. With some help from the artefact hoard, the room will be cut out from the rest of the city centuries beyond my death. As if it matters even if someone finds it the day after my death.

After those instructions are given, my troops are finally gathered. I quickly tell them the story I had prepared: The Archivists have been secretly organising the witch hunters across Hesperia, they need to be put out of business for the good of the country, blahblahblah.

As we lead the men into the street and head to the Grand Archive, I lean to Zinizar and state: "Tell your god that tonight we make history."

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