The Council Hall was shaped like an octagon. Each of its eight walls had a rectangular opening leading outside - doors with gates of carved marble. The room itself, extremely big, was divided in eight triangles, which were in turn separated by pathways that led to those same exits. In the center, where the triangles met, there was a smaller octagon-shaped deck, surrounded by eight podiums.

   The building was empty, but wouldn’t remain that way for long.

   “Master Mathematician, Elaav.”

   A proud-looking woman entered the room, after a strange, emotionless, disembodied voice said her name. She slowly made her way to one of the podiums. The voice then called a Master Architect, once called Ataes, who did the same as Elaav. The Head General, Damalis, would follow. Then came Helan, Master Artisan. Lassar, whose title was apparently that of High Bureaucrat, was next, followed by the Head Physician, Urias. Each took their predetermined spots in the pedestals.

   “The Master Mage, Albara. The Master Alchemist, Tarvas.”

   The eight Elders were now ready.

   “This is a public meeting of the Council of Elders. Spectators are not frowned upon. Interventions are frowned upon.”

   At these words, a group of individuals entered the building from each of the eight entrances. They slowly made their way to the inner circles, but did not approach the smaller octagon the Elders stood upon.

   “The Council meeting will now begin.”

   The doors were closed.

   “The High Bureaucrat Lassar has the word.”

   The High Bureaucrat didn’t look nearly old enough to be a bureaucrat, let alone the High Bureaucrat! He looked no older than twenty-five. Yet when he spoke, he did it with conviction, but without any more emotion than the mechanized voice that had given him the word. He stated every word as if it was a fact.

   “Fellow Elders. Brothers. Sisters. Seekers of Balance. The Situation is dire. It has been reported to me that despite our best efforts, our goals are not yet achieved.”

   “That is correct.” Stated another voice, a female one. Also no hint of emotion. It was the Master Mage, Albara. Also a young woman. “The Sensory Mages are certain that its energy emissions have peaked during the last month.”

   Damalis spoke next. He was a stern, stout man, who had clearly seen many battles – he was probably the only person in the room who proudly held a scar on his face: a big, gruesome thing, from his forehead to his left cheek. Surprising ad luckily for him, his eye hadn’t been affected, but a slightly stronger cut would have slashed his eye and leave him blind. This experienced man, as the reader probably assumed by now, also spoke without emotion in his voice.

   “That means that balance has been broken. We have been informed that a war is causing this grief. A territorial struggle by two human warlords quickly escalated. Many towns were already razed. Much sorrow resulted.”

   Lassar nodded. It appeared they all knew what they were talking about, in the sense that they were reciting a text they had memorized quite a while ago.

   “Once again the denizens of the Lower Lands put their own existence, and the whole planet’s, in peril due to greed and spite. We await your judgment as Head General.”

   “We are to deal with at once. Our forces are not powerful enough to intervene directly. I hereby suggest, then, a solution. We will send a messenger from the Halls of Warfare to contact the New Ones. For being warlike yet rational, not to mention numerous, they are to intervene themselves and end this war through the way of force. And they will do so, because they, like us, know that Balance is at stake.”

   There was silence in the room for a moment. Then, one by one, the other elders stated their names, titles, and stated they found that measure to be logical and relevant. Lassar, High Bureaucrat, was the last one to do so, and afterwards, he spoke.

   “Now we shall proceed to the judgment of Sorceress Ramallia, who has reportedly broken her oaths. Sorceress Ramallia, step up and approach.”
   A woman from the audience slowly made her way to the center of the room, where she was surrounded by the podiums and the Elders on them. Such strange Elders those were. None of them looked older than thirty, not even Damalis.





   Many hours passed until the meeting ended and the exits were cleared. The Elders remained in the building, discussing the details of their decisions and reviewing the meeting’s minutes.

   As for the rest, the audience, that flood of men and women in white clothing and with white hair, they left. The disembodied voice had made it quite clear: remaining in the Council Hall after the meeting was over was ‘frowned upon’. That was apparently the law.

   Well, none of these men and woman seemed to be able to frown or express any emotion in any way, so the use of the term ‘frowned upon’ was quite odd. Let us then proceed.

   It was already night outside, but the streets were lit. Several crystal spires, placed at intervals by the marble pathways, provided a milky white light that filled the streets.

   The woman walked slowly as she made her way back home. She stood very straight, proud stance and prouder gait, as if she was being watched – her face, blank. Were you expecting otherwise? In her mind, she reviewed the decisions the Elders had made, and she found herself agreeing with each of them, even those she didn’t like – Ramallia’s banishment came to mind. She saw a man standing by her house – the house, like all in that city, was made of white marble, and resembled a dome.

   She paid him no mind, so lost she was in thought. She passed right by him and opened her door. There was no lock. There were no locks. But the moment she was about to step in, the man spoke.

   “I waited hours for you. You’re not going to ignore me, are you?”

   The woman froze in place, and swiftly turned to face the man. Perhaps too quickly. Was that an emotion? Was being startled an emotion? If it was, the one before her didn’t notice (or pretended not to notice) her slip. She felt relieved, yes, but her voice was as monotone as ever.

   “Fencer Sitta.”

   The man nodded. “That is indeed my name, Sorceress Shana. Do you wish to join me for a walk?”





   Elysium. The single most beautiful thing in the world, some argue. A masterpiece of planning and organization, result of a mix of architecture, science and magic.

   This beautiful city in the clouds consisted in an upside-down dome of marble – and yes, do get used to this word, as the entire city, its streets, its buildings are entirely made of that! On its flat surface, many buildings. Clearly, that city’s aesthetic choices favored flowing designs and curves. Domes, spires. Almost no edges to be seen.

   Elysium floated amongst the clouds, over a huge lake, receptacle of the eight lakes that formed inside the marble dome. Those eight waterfalls meeting the river were the cause of the endless fog surrounding the city, and of the low rumbling noise that could constantly heard by its denizens.

   Magic and alchemy kept that city protected. Alchemy provided illumination, so necessary. There was no such thing as sunlight in Elysium. The thick fog from the lake constantly surrounded the city, blocking most sunlight. All that was left was a dim white light. Not nearly enough. So those from the Hall of Artisans designed and created huge spires made of glass, as tall as four man. They made hundreds, every single one of them hollow, yet thick. The alchemists did the rest. Easily they created a stable concoction that emitted a moderately strong white light. Great amounts were produced, each spire filled with it. The alchemists were masters of their trade. Elysium was illuminated twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

   But as alchemy provided the illumination, magic provided defense, safety, and comfort. Magic wards kept the fog around the city, but outside it, allowing people to see each other, while at the same time making it difficult to spot the city amongst the clouds. These were constantly kept by groups of channelers of the Halls of Magic.

   Other constant wards also needed channeling. The one that protected the city from the wind, for example. A place so high in the sky would be assaulted by winds that would have made life difficult, but magic solved that problem with ease. Much like the alchemists, the Elysian wizards and sorcerers were good at their job.

   As for the city being above ground, that needed no spells. Mere science dealt with that. A simple rock, of a material called einherjarium that was native to that world, treated in a certain manner – complex, yes, but not impossible – would float in air in a feat of magic! For the marble dome was hollow, and had been filled with einherjarium.

   Safety and comfort were assured: but the most important things for a self-sustainable city had yet to be provided. Water and food. Water could be dealt with, but it was not easy. Again, magic and artisanship worked in tandem to create heavy, stone cubes, riddled with holes that were then covered in enchanted cloth. Thousands of them dropped in the sea, serving both as filters and transporters. The water went through the enchanted cloth and into the holes. Inside the cubes, one-way gates. The creator of these gates? Albara herself, the Master Mage.

        Food… the Halls are still researching a way to easily bring food to Elysium, or even produce it there. To no avail. As such, several kinds and of grain and vegetables were constantly taken there in large quantities, using conventional means.

        As for the city itself, it was extremely well organized. The Council Hall was in its the exact center, surrounded by a small lake. It was from this lake that eight rivers, or rather, waterways – we shall call them rivers because that’s what the Elysians call them – came.  Over this lake, eight bridges, connecting the Council Hall to the rest of the city, but indirectly: these eight bridges led to roads that in turn led to eight buildings, which were carbon copies of the Council Hall, albeit much bigger. These were the Halls of Trades, where everything happened in Elysium. Bureaucracy, Military, Architecture, Magic, Artisanship, Alchemy, Medicine, and Mathematics were taught, studied and researched in these Halls, under the stern watch of the respective Elder.
 Apart from the Halls, everything in Elysium was… unimportant, at best. Illuminating crystal spires (they were made of glass, as stated before, but Elysians have a knack for giving things inaccurate names) all over the place, and houses, lots of houses.

       A masterpiece of planning and organization, result of a mix of architecture, science and magic, indeed. That was Elysium, the beautiful floating city that was home of the Platinum Siblings.

       Yes, the Elysians had a collective name. They were the Platinum Siblings, the emotionless folk, that were either worshiped or hated in the lands they had named Lower. This entire race – or sect if you will – could be described as “an elf with white hair and grey eyes, wearing a plain white toga and sandals. Slightly pointed ears, and a completely blank face at all times. A perfectly straight posture, a proud gait”. The only details that could change during a brief look were the length of the hair, the details of the face, and the body type.

       In fact, the description above would fit both Sitta and Shana, the two Siblings that were now standing next to the edge of the marble half-sphere where their home rested upon. Expressionless eyes set upon a horizon they could not see thanks to the fog. The Sorceress was a single step away from falling; Sitta was a bit further away. There was a heavy silence between the two, a silence lessened only by the sounds of the stream to their left, that had been born in the lake surrounded the Council Hall, and would die down there, in the much bigger Elysium floated over, after a huge leap of faith. The sound of water falling on water also help lessen the silence, but all Siblings were used to the low rumbling they had to live with every day. Sitta would break that almost-silence.

        “I have heard that Sorceress Ramallia was tried.” His voice, like the Elders’, like every single Sibling’s, had no emotion at all to it. Sasha’s reply to her words was a nod, so the male elf spoke again. “Which ones did she break?”

         A small pause. “The Third. She was also accused of breaking the Fourth, but she was proven not guilty of that particular crime.”

        “The Third.” The male looked up, not sure what he was looking at though. All that was visible was still the fog. “It is always the Third, isn’t it?”

        “It is understandable, Fencer Sitta. The Third is the most difficult one to keep. Being proud of oneself is easy once you become a Sibling. Those without honor never even manage to stay in the Academies long enough to be brought to this city, and a sense of honor rarely disappears from a person – not to mention it is easily faked.”

        “You should say that there are fakers amongst the Silbings?”

        “We are all fakers, in one way or the other. What we learned in the Academy was to become the mask we wear.”

        Shana slowly turned her back to the abyss to face the Fencer.

        “And then there’s Purity. What do you think of Purity, Fencer Sitta?”

        Purity, as a Sibling saw it.

        “It is necessary. It separates us from the animal who merely follows its urges and instincts. We Siblings must resist those urges and instincts, proving that mind reigns over body, and not the other way around.”

        “Oh, yes?” Such an odd conversation going on. Monotone voices, not a single facial expression, pure neutrality. Most would find this conversation extremely awkward… but it was the Platinum Sibling norm. “You could be tried for merely admitting such urges to even exist, Fencer Sitta.”

        “I trust you enough not to lie to you, Sorceress Shana. You could say I see things differently. Without urges to resist, how could we prove ourselves better than the Lower Races?”

        Shana simply nodded, and turned around again, turning her back to her friend. “Trust is misplaced in Elysium, and I thought you would know that better than anyone here.” As she said this, the Fencer slowly made his way towards her. Both so dangerously close to the edge – to certain death. Or perhaps not? Well, were it not for the magic wards protecting Elysium from the elements, they would most certainly be having that conversation elsewhere.

        “Ramallia broke the Third, Sitta. Do you know how?”

        “How?”

        “She smiled when her acolyte got his wings. She smiled, and would later say she didn’t even try to repress that one smile. Before the Elders, she said that. And that she wanted us to know she was happy.”

       “I had always thought her to be a respectable Sibling.”

       “And she was.”, was Shana’s quick and simple response. “They took her wings and banished her to the Lower Lands. Ironic, isn’t it? She lost her wings and status because of what happened the day her acolyte got his.”

       “I do wonder how she will fare. The Lower Lands have no mercy for fallen Siblings.”

        “She will do well. We are used to lack of mercy, are we not?” Shana paused for a moment. “The Third, Sitta. It is the final trial of the Sibling. It’s not the oaths you have to memorize in the Academy, it’s not the Initiation or the Assimilation. It’s upholding the Third all your life. Aloofness, Fencer Sitta. Aloofness will be our downfall.”

        With that said, Sorceress Shana leaned forward and fell. Strangely, the Fencer did not even blink, and it soon became clear he had no reasons to. Slowly, Shana would come back into view, on her back vibrating, humming, pulsating semi-transparent green butterfly wings.

        “Come.” Said the Sorceress. “One could best appreciate Elysium and the gift that is being allowed to reside there, by seeing it from outside” If she was being sarcastic and/or ironic, she didn’t sound like it. Then again, she never sounded like anything. No Platinum Sibling ever did.

        The Fencer nodded slowly. A sudden flash, and on his back his own pair of energy wings appeared. Exactly like Shana’s, except cyan. He slowly floated from the ground, and flew to her side… and for the rest of the evening, they just stood there, in the middle of the fog, looking at their home. Elysium. Cold, ruthless, mechanical. Heaven indeed.

     It was daytime. Elysium’s streets were hardly ever bursting with movement, but that particular day they were downright deserted, or at least seemed to be, at a first glance. A valid assumption. But it is incorrect. It just happened than most Siblings (those who had left their homes, or Halls, that day) were all standing, in two lines, by the floating reverse dome’s edge. That was, in fact, the same place where Shana and Sitta had been standing the previous day.

     A silent, still crowd watching the wall of fog. Waiting for something, but what?

     Two of them broke formation and approached the edge. One of them was a short, scrawny Platinum Sibling, that nonetheless had the perfect posture and proud gait that was common amongst his kin. The other was the High Bureaucrat himself, Lassar.

      They, too, stood silent and still. Then the High Bureaucrat said a word to the scrawny Sibling, who nodded. Slowly, in a graceful and choreographed movement, he slowly opened his arms wide, hands open, and as he did it, a single ray of light pierced the fog. This ray of light became broader as the hole in the fog became wider, a result of the sorcerer's efforts – because it should be clear by now that the scrawny one was from the Halls of Magic.

      The whole would soon became extremely big, and the Siblings were able to see the landscape surrounding their floating home – thick woods as far as the eye could see, and no horizon, only mountain ranges. But they weren't there for sightseeing.

       Another pause. Both Lassar and the sorcerer stepped aside... and after a while, a semi-transparent blue disc came into view, carrying a group of people. Amongst them, four Siblings, all kneeling, hands on the disc – maintaining it, probably – but there were also kids. Around thirty of them. They were all wearing not white, but gray togas that identified them as Disciples: the next generation of Siblings. None of them was older than 14, but some of them looked way younger, and without exception, they had the same neutral faces as the Siblings they would become.

      Despite appearing as dull as the adults they'd learn with, these Disciples brought something new to Elysium. Color. Not just the blue sky and green woods that could be seen through the hole in the fog, as that would without a doubt be close again soon. I mean hair color, eye color, skin color, variety.

      Such a varied mix! Every single one of them had the features and ears of an elf, but still... there was the female White Elf, who looked almost like a Platinum Sibling, but had pale blue eyes instead of gray. There were golden-eyed High Elves and red-haired Wood Elves. Sea Elves from the deeps with their azure complexion and  Mountain Elves from the northern highlands, with their brown skin and hair. There was even a New One, a young girl with song, ebony hair and milky white skin.
Sitta – left row, third spot from the right – watched these children as the floating disc crossed the 'gate', which was then closed by the sorcerer, and landed between Lassar and the latter. The Fencer examined each of the children, one by one, and said, more to himself than to anyone else. “Once again, no humans.” A Sibling he didn't know, the one to his left, replied quickly, “All humans end up deserting, so the Academies were ordered to be stricter with their selection. Humans cannot uphold the Fourth.” The Fencer silently nodded in understanding and agreement.

      The four sorcerers who had been maintaining the disc stood. It had already landed on the marble-paved floor; as soon as their collective hands stopped touching the disc, it shimmered for a moment and vanished. Since it was very thin, both children and sorcerers were soon stepping on solid ground, and in fact most barely noticed the moment the disc ceased to be.

      Before the High Bureaucrat's emotionless and attentive eyes, the children themselves got in a line. You would expect noise, since they were all kids, but no. Like the Siblings they would become – if they didn't make any mistakes, that is – these Disciples were silent and disciplined. As if one, they stopped.
The sorcerers made their way to the line's sides, two one each side; Lassar himself took his place as head of the line.

      Most Disciples were nervous. Some half-open eyes were twitching. A few were sweating, one was clearly shaking. But luckily for them, these slips were either unnoticed or purposely ignored. Lassar, like a teacher during a field trip, led the Disciples to the Council Hall. A swarm of Siblings followed that line.

      Only one of the Hall's marble gates was open – that was the one they used. The building was empty, save for the other seven Elders, each on their own podium. The line froze behind Lassar as he joined the other Elders.

      The Voice spoke. It named the elders and their title, one by one, before proceeding.

      “The rites of Initiation and Assimilation will begin.”

       The first kid in the line, a female High Elf, stepped up and made her way to the middle of the Octagon. The Master Mage and the Master Alchemist left their podiums and walked over to her. The latter took a small white pouch from the single pocket in his robes.

      Apparently undisturbed by the proximity of such important individuals, the child spoke. She had learned her lesson, not only she recited the entire oath without a single mistake, she did so with a mechanical voice that was as good as any Platinum Sibling's.

      “I hereby swear to uphold the Four, the laws that the illuminated few. I will live by the Four, and only the Four will matter to me, as they are what separate me from my impure brethren. Other laws, doctrines, rules I may follow, but the Four will always be above the laws of man.

      The First, Pride. I will be closer to the light of truth without being blinded, and as such, I will never forget the gift bestowed upon me. I will never belittle myself, under the risk of belittling the ideals and goals of a Platinum Sibling.

      The Second, Honor. My word will be dearer to me than my life. I will not dishonor myself, under the risk of dishonoring the Platinum Siblings. My life will be a tool, not a goal in itself; a tool to work towards keeping the Balance.

      The Third, Aloofness.”

      From his place in the audience, Sitta listened carefully as the child continued reciting those words.

      “Logic and devotion to my goal shall be the only things driving me. Feelings will be ignored and dominated when possible, and when not, they shall not be expressed.

       The Fourth. Purity. I shall not let my bodily needs and instincts take over my will. The Sibling is pure, rational and selfless, unlike the animals who make pleasure their only goal.”

      As the girl spoke, the Elders (and the full-fledged Siblings that were watching) listened carefully. One by one, each of them nodded, letting the girl know she had been able to recite the oaths without any mistake. If she felt relieved, she didn't show it. That'd be breaking an oath she had just made!
Lassar spoke, his words also part of a routine.

      “State your name and specialization.”

       “My name is Lumecia Balga, and it has been determined in the Academy that I am to specialize in Architecture.

       “From now on, your full name is Acolyte Architect Lumecia, as you are no longer a Disciple. You wearing the white garments of the Platinum Sibling is no longer frowned upon. Master Mage Albaras, Master Alchemist Tarvas, proceed with the Assimilation.”, said the High Bureaucrat.

        The young girl of golden locks, despite her impressive self-control, couldn't help glancing at the Master Alchemist's hand. He had just taken a small white bead from his pouch, and handed it to Albaras before taking a step back.

        The Master Mage held the orb between her pointer finger and thumb, and with her free hand, help Lumecia's chin, making the girl look her in the eyes. She put the small sphere on the now Acolyte's forehead, and with her thumb, pushed it against her skin.

      For a second, Lumecia's eyes opened wide in a manifestation of terror and pain.

      The bead sank as if Lumecia's skin was made of water. All color faded from the Acolyte's body and her skin, eyes and hair started emitting a blinding white light! The Master Mage removed her thumb from Lumecia's forehead and the light started slowly fading.

      Lumecia had changed. Her once honey-colored locks had just become a pure white, even though there was still a hint of golden, should you look attentively. She blinked twice – her eyes were now gray. She was now a Sibling like any other... in appearance. She was still an Acolyte, and had no wings yet.

      “The Elders have decided that the Acolyte Architect Lumecia will be assigned to the tutorship of Architect Standdo. Architect Standdo, step forth. Acolyte Architect Lumecia, join Architect Standdo.”
A lithe male Siblings emerged from the crowd, blank eyes locked onto her new Acolyte, who in tun stepped out of the octagon so she could join her new tutor.

      A second child then stepped out of line and took Lumecia's place in the center of the octagon – she was the ebony-haired New One child.