The High Council chamber was not a hall of knowledge, but of authority. A round room in the pinnacle of the central spire, the windows looking out over the dizzying view of Hafthor. The walls were lined with portraits of the former Head Archons, their disapproving eyes seeming to judge the current inhabitants. The air was thick with the weight of centuries of decision-making.
Seated around a blackwood table of immense age were the seven most powerful figures in the Academy: the Council of Archons. At the head was Archon Therus, his face impassive. To his right sat Professor Lyra, her back erect, her eyes burning with cold fire. The others represented the various Colleges and the political might of the institution.
On the tabletop, a silver scrying pool showed a repeating loop of images:
