What the Left Hand Does

[Sunset Oracle]

The room was large, dimly lit, and echoed terribly. Concentric circles of low stone-carved benches wrapped around a central dais, with each circle higher and higher than the other like an amphitheater. The stone was all black, hand carved and wrought with silver filigree to depict swirling clouds and celestial bodies of a degree of craftsmanship which spoke of decades old and painstaking labor. The innermost circle was a good twenty feet from the central dais, which itself was about six feet across, and consisted of seven chairs. The remaining bench-circles were an additional ten feet behind the inner circle, expanding outwards and stacked atop each other with no real sign of separation between them. These seven chairs of the inner circle were occupied, although the rest of the amphitheater was not.

The ceiling was a rough selection of jagged stalactites which began as dark gray stone but tapered off into a teal-colored crystal at the point which shone with a dull light, providing the only illumination in the room. All of the occupants were similarly clothed, wearing black robes with different colored hoods(Green, Yellow, Red, Blue, Purple, Brown, and White), and each wearing a thin raiment of pearl with gold lettering in strange letters about their shoulders. On the dais, a ghostly figure rose up from the stone, standing proud, if a little hunched, and took his time gazing at each robed figure in turn, rotating gently as he did so. The ghostly image was of a man in his elder years, balding at the head, letting his presumably silver hair form a horseshoe around the back of his skull. He wore a button down Hawaiian shirt which restrained his large belly that clearly extended out over his belt. Overall, the man was large in the upper body, but had rather small legs, giving him a lopsided appearance.

From the surrounding inner ring one of the cloaked figures, one who wore the green hood, spoke up in a weathered voice, “Bonus Dies, Trucido of Haereticum, vos sto in presentia of Concilium of Septem. Permissum vestri mens exsisto solvo quod vestri phasmatis patesco.”

“Cut the crap Roland. I’m old, retired, cranky, and don’t have time for this ‘protocol’ crap y’all like so damn much.” The old, ghostly man grunted in response, sending two of the gathered seven cloaked individuals to exchange glances.

“Elder Walker, your services to this Council are well known and appreciated, however-“ Red-hood began in a young, strong voice.

“Save it. You know why I called this meetin’.” Ryan Walker responded, coughing gently into his hand. “As many of you know, the events of the Wauwatosa Incident have been put to rest years ago. However, there’s been a new development along this front.”

One of the cloaked figures raised a hand, it was old, thin, and covered in various bangles and rings. A female voice responded from underneath the Purple hood. “Elder Walker, we were under the assumption that the research into the Veneficus Oculus was stopped indefinitely because of what happened. Were we wrong?” Her tone of voice wasn’t accusing, but there was a definite hint of disdain underneath.

“Not at all Sarah. The research was stopped be-“ Ryan started, but was cut off by the man in the White Hood, who growled in a deep and echoing voice that sounded less human than most.

“Elder Walker, you address the Council of Seven. You will use honorifics when addressing us.”

Ryan rotated until he was looking at the man in the White Hood, the ghostly image staring daggers into the hidden face. “Need I remind you that not too long ago, I was the one who sat on the opposite side of the dais when you were brought in and barely able to speak Tristan. Don’t forget that I was the one who brought you into this organization. So to be honest, to hell with your honorifics.”

White-Hood started to rise, a red light emanating from behind the hood before the individual in the Blue Hood grabbed his wrist and pulled him back into his seat. “Relax Elder Malleus, Ryan has earned our respect, and our confidence. His time wearing the Black Hood has not been forgotten, especially not by this Council, whom many trained under his tutelage. It would do you well to remember that we must be above petty emotions while sitting on the council.” Blue Hood chuckled a deep bass rumble, “He has earned his right to be a crotchety old fool.”

Ryan cracked a smile for the first time. “Thank you for that Tim. Now, getting back to the issue at hand…My grandson James has had a direct vision of the Veneficus Oculus incident.”

The reaction around the circle was immediate, bringing hushed whispers from most except from White Hood and Brown Hood. Yellow Hood cleared her throat and spoke in a tired voice, “How do you know of this?”

“I have had a Watchdog spell on James since he left for the Westbrook Academy. In the event something like this should have happened.” Ryan explained with a grunt. “At about 10:25 PM Eastern Time on July 4th, James had a vision of the Incident. Details of the vision are still unknown.”

Brown Hood perked up this time, her voice cold and harsh. “James has been attempting to Scry the incident then has he?”

“No, he hasn’t. No one has since I raised the Seer’s Shield myself.”

“Then was this K’ra’g?” Yellow Hood asked gently.

“No. There has been no movement across the veil since the incident. Evidence dictates that this was a pure vision.”

This brought more conversation amongst the council, whose voices began to rise in volume, prompting White Hood to stand, raising one gloved hand and bringing silence to the circle.

“It appears then that little James is stumbling onto something he shouldn’t.” White Hood hissed.

Ryan nodded, surprisingly. “Which is why I called the council to meet. I require permission to lock away the vision from his conscious.” A gasp rose from the woman in the Purple Hood.

“Ryan, that magic is forbidden. You know this more than anyone.”

The old man grunted an acknowledgement and shrugged. “I’m more than aware, which is why I’m getting permission from the Council before I proceed. I know how to cast the spell, and I know the issues in casting it. Still, it is necessary to prevent James from investigating the Oculus.” He looked over to the silent man in the Brown Hood . “He has enough to deal with right now, since he has gotten himself involved with the Cobol family.”

“The Cobols?” Brown Hood asked with a surprised inflection to his voice. “That family down south?”

Ryan nodded briskly. “Yes. We’re not the only Magical community out here you know.” He gave a gruff laugh and stood a little straighter. “I will perform the spell and make sure that I intercept any visions of the Oculus before they arrive again. Do I have the Council’s permission?”

After another round of hushed talks of the council dominated the room before the individuals leaned back while Green Hood made the formal announcement; “In the case of allowing Elder Ryan Walker to perform forbidden magic in defense of the Council and preventing an unveil of the Oculus….the council now votes.” Around the Council, hands rose. Five to Two for.

With a nod, Ryan bowed to the council and faded from the chamber. As he left, the man in the White Hood grumbled something, the lone red eye shining beneath the hood glaring at where the man once stood.

“This will be a problem.”