Not towering high, yet it felt disconnected from the world below. A chamber carved from impossibly dark stone so void of light that, even with a candle, you wouldn't be able to see beyond your fingertips.
Nestled somewhere within the Four Kingdoms but independent of them.
Seven chairs encircle a circular table, with six of them currently occupied.
No windows broke the walls. No torches provided illumination. Instead, a pale blue light emanated from the table's center—a glowing orb that cast everything in cold, shadowless radiance, making their faces look corpse-like.
"This is a waste of time," the first woman said, her voice sharp as broken glass. She was perhaps forty, with dark hair pulled back so severely it stretched her features into a perpetual scowl. "The report must be wrong. We eliminated the last practitioner generations ago."
"The source is reliable," countered one of the men. He was younger, maybe thirty-five, with a scar across his nose.
