[center][b][i]AR 490[/i][/b] ~ [i]Two years before the end of the war, The Great Civil War of Formaroth, Aurelia Vyncetta joins the Head Council based in Nyhem.[/i][/center]

	The times were wrought with tragedy, and grief. Many civilians had become casualties during the war so far, even more disturbing, mages in Nyhem, the capital city of all Formaroth, were burned at the stake for treasonous activities. Such was the day, that Aurelia had arrived at the heart of the empire. She had landed moments before in the docks of Nyhem, her face turned out to gaze out the pane-less window. Sailing did not suit her hardy constitution, and she still felt green in the face, weak in the knees, with her palms sweating. As the carriage ride from the docks progressed towards Miserth Keep, the wooden carriage rolled into the Bazaar, as she would soon come to know it. There, centered for all to see in the midst of the plaza, stood three erected poles, with fires burning low. Three charred corpses hung limp, more horrifying, she could see their faces, with their mouths twisted in silent screams; even the smell of burnt flesh floated through the carriage. She quickly covered her nose as bile rose in her throat, threatening to lose her morning breakfast of thin gruel, biscuits, and a mugful of spiced mead to calm her nerves from the sailing ship. Even though she had left for the Summer Isles all those years ago, twelve years to date, when she was just a little girl at the wee age of eight, she had sailed across the seas many times, from the Ice Sea on the forested shores of Raeldar, to the Inan Sea, and onwards to the Irman Sea where the Isles were located. Twelve years had passed since she had left the Mage’s Circle, and now, she had set forth on an adventure of unprecedented expectations. High Magister Ascelina, and Rolandus confronted Aurelia when she completed the last of her exams to determine what she would like to do with herself afterwards. She had protested against being sent away from the safety of the Circle, and pleaded with them to let her continue her studies. 

	However, Ascelina would not hear of it, she informed her, that King Heylot recently executed his previous High Magister on grounds of treason, and had requested a replacement. She kindly explained to Aurelia, that she was the best one to replace his magister, and while Aurelia could only believe in horror that she would certainly die under his reign, she reluctantly agreed to go. Of course, the journey across the Irman Sea took the better part of a month-and-a-half to complete. Throughout the voyage, she leafed through the papers that Rolandus had given her, the contents of the papers regarded to how she was to conduct herself as a representative of the Mage’s Circle, and how to act accordingly as a High Magister; she was to bow or curtsy to everyone of a higher rank than her, address Heylot, as [i][b]Great[/b][/i] King Heylot like he desired (whilst his nickname as [i]The Mad King[/i] or [i]Heylot the Mad[/i] was well used throughout Formaroth amongst those keen to speak out against him, she had been advised to avoid calling him that to his face), not to speak out of turn, and speak when spoken to, and to do as she was told were a short list of the numerous items written in the papers. It had taken little time for her to memorize the letters inked in black, so when she landed, all she could think of was what [i]not[/i] to do wrong. One of the page-boys of the court had arrived at the docks to greet Aurelia, and provided little companionship on the ride to the Keep. She tore her gaze away as the last visuals of the charred bodies disappeared from view, and focused on her companion. The boy was young, perhaps no older than thirteen or fourteen at best, he had a mop of mahogany-brown curls, where doe-brown eyes peered out at the world under thick lashes. She had learned his name, Mikael. He met her gaze, and shrugged half-heartedly at the sight.

“What happened to them?” Aurelia asked, rather hesistant, unsure if she were allowed to ask things of that nature from a page boy.

“Heylot says they were traitors, mages they were, so he sentenced them to the stake.” His words proved that he knew little else as to why the king felt they were traitors, and she did not wish to press him for more answers, for fear of suffering the same fate.

	The carriage-ride to the Keep abruptly ended as it came to a halt outside the drawbridge. Mikael popped out of the carriage with a spring in his step, and opened the door for Aurelia with a friendly smile on his face. Her gaze drifted across the drawbridge where she spotted an elegantly dressed woman waiting for her on the other side, in front of the Keep’s massive doors.

“Who is she?” She whispered as she climbed out of the carriage.

“That is Evelyn Tuaina, Head Advisor of the High Council.” Mikael remarked, and none too happily at that. In fact, his cheery smile that he bore for her, had vanished upon the sight of the woman across the bridge. She shared in his somber attitude, gathered about her a stoic stance as she followed Mikael across the wooden drawbridge.

	When they neared, Aurelia could tell that Evelyn was indeed a beautiful woman, however, despite her evident beauty, she certainly did appear just as cold as Aurelia attempted to feel. In a black velvet gown, trimmed in black lace, and covered in gold jewelry with brilliant diamonds about her throat, and ears, she arched a thin, black eyebrow at Aurelia, as if scrutinizing her appearance in her navy-blue mages robes, with a matching dress, and white kirtle.

“Aurelia Vyncetta?” Evelyn asked. Upon addressing her, she bowed deeply to her, just like the letters had instructed.

“Head Councilor Evelyn Tuania, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Aurelia Vyncetta, I am the new High Magister that Great King Heylot has asked for.” She rose from her bow, and stared into the eyes of the woman before her. Evelyn’s lip twitched, for what, she could not tell.

“Yes… That is correct. Come with me, I shall show you to your chambers, and then you shall meet King Heylot. He will tell you what is to be expected of you then.” With a swish of her black dress, Evelyn turned on the point of her heel, and sashayed into the keep.

[center][i]In the Presence of Great King Heylot[/i][/center]

	The sheer beauty of Miserth Keep astounded her. Not only the size of the keep impressed her, but she was surprised even more so at its decadence. It was commonly known throughout Formaroth that Heylot had placed the empire into a great debt, now that she had arrived, she could say on a first-hand account, where all the money was going to. Every corridor in the keep bore lavish tapestries, the finest animal furs, painted windows, thick carpeted rugs upon which to walk, and candelabras made of pure gold. Her chambers that had been provided were of lesser comparison to the beauty of the keep; she had an armoire for her clothes, a desk, a bookcase, a shelf, a hearth, a tub for bathing, and a bed with a feather down mattress. It was a plain room, but one that she was grateful for nonetheless. 

	A sharp rapt at the door drew her away, and she discovered that Mikael had come to fetch her. Evelyn had informed her that she would meet Heylot at a banquet, and to dress accordingly, even more so, Heylot’s personal seamstress had come to attend to her, and have a dress for her soon. That held true, as by the time Mikael had come, she wore a lavish green gown with golden thread embroidered around her wrists, and along hem of the dress. The seamstress provided her with a pair of green silk slippers, along with a pendant with a black pearl. Having everything given to her unexpectedly unnerved her greatly. She suppressed the urge to reject the fineries given to her, but she remembered Rolandus had written, accept everything given to you, lest it be viewed as an insult. She noticed that by the way Mikael’s cheeks colored deeply when she opened the door, that she was dressed acceptably, or in this case, pleasing to the eye. Together, Mikael and Aurelia headed for the dining hall, and as he held open the door for her, she tripped over the hem of her gown in wonder, and amazement at the luxurious display of food, and the nobles before her. Heads swiveled to see who had come to join them, and when she stepped into the room meekly, her face burning bright with crimson, Mikael guided her towards her seat at the dining table. There were twenty wooden seats placed accordingly around the polished table, and from one end to the other, there were extravagant platters, dishes, and baskets arranged beautifully. It was there, seated at the head of the table, did she see Heylot himself. The flush of her cheeks drained away, as her eyes met his. Upon a head of black hair that fell to his shoulders, sat a heavy golden crown, and underneath thick, black brows, eyes darker still were rimmed red; from what she could not say. He rose abruptly from his chair, a strange, twisted grin appeared on his lips as he leaned forward with his hands planted firmly before him.

“Ah… You must be Aurelia Vyncetta. Evelyn has told me that you have arrived as scheduled. Please, take a seat.” He gestured towards an empty chair, [i]the[/i] only chair left unoccupied. She managed a quick, deep bow, before hurrying to her seat. “I am pleased you could join us today, as on this day, it marks an important day in history. Do you know what day is today?” Heylot asked, a sly smirk creeping onto his face as he returned to his seat as well. She felt anxious under his piercing, black gaze.

“I am afraid not, your Majesty. What day is today?” Her voice trembled as she spoke, unsure if she was giving the proper answer.

“Today, is the day, that the Church of Klebrithy held its day of burning during the early eras of when my family came to power. The Burning of Mages, as it is known.” He said as his eyes narrowed dangerously, holding her gaze solid. Her mouth became inexplicably dry under his stern stare, while her heartbeat quickened, it pounded fiercely behind her ribs, and she thought she would faint. “Of course I had to commemorate this day, so I apologize for the horrible smell you must have encountered on the way here. I trust that you won’t suffer the same fate as theirs.” With that, he settled into his chair, and carried on light-hearted conversations with those seated next to him. Fortunately, Aurelia was seated far enough away from him not to warrant his attention further. She followed the cues of those around her as they began to fill their silver plates full of food. Next to her, a tall, lanky man glanced at her occasionally. She noticed his pallid skin, and his shoulder-length brown hair; she would discover at the end of the dinner, that this man was none other than Duncan De Reimer, her future friend, and ally under the tyrant king.