[h2]Whisper and Shadow[/h2]

What struck Vortigern most was the cold.  Not the chill in the air, as he was well beyond worrying about such things, but rather that cold shadow that hung on the edges of his magical senses, sharply honed even before his transcendence, like the frost on a once-fresh corpse left out in winter.  He did not need to guess at the origin.

Vortigern gathered his power about himself.  To those with power, pale light clung to his person, waving and flickering about like a flame.

The grass crunched under his boots.  There would be no sneaking tonight.  While the specifics were unknown to him, there could be only one reason Kil'Threx would speak with him.  It may have been couched in pretty words, but the truth of the matter was that his future held servitude.  He had made his peace with it.

As he opened the door, he briefly wondered if anyone would recognise his robes.  The Order of the Stars had changed their sense of fashion a few times over the past eight centuries, but it might still be recognized.

[i]It could make for amusing conversation as we await our benefactor.[/i]

The door opened with a creek, a testament to the cottage's age. He stepped in to find it already occupied in part.  Some manner of fel magic clung to each of those already assembled.  Nodding to each in turn, Vortigern made his way to the ta le. And took his seat wordlessly.