Council of Light
The tall woman walked through the halls of Auchidon, nodding her head at the Initiates that bowed towards her, making her way not to her office, but to a large room she had designated as her council chamber.
Already most of the ones she had called here were gathered, and beneath her cowl she smirked.
"I am glad that you heeded the call of the Light, our time is nearly finished here," she walked around to the head of the table, and taking the seat to it's immediate right, she reached her gloved hand for the reports placed there.
"The Overseers report that the Hopefuls left are still holding out. Only thirteen succumbed to their doubts this week, the bodies have yet to be taken care of," she nodded, "Good, their descent into shadows will remind the others what happens when your will fails. The Light will take their cleansed souls."
She looked to the man wearing a cloak that sat across the table, a few chairs down from her, "Inquisitor, Are there any Hopefuls worthy of joining the Initiates?"
While he was preparing his answer she moved to the next report, "I see the Initiates are purifying themselves," she looked up, frowning for a moment, then glared at the door as it opened, "Confessor Bloodreign, I am surprised that you are late," she said as he made his way around the table and sat immediately across from her, "I was just asking the Inquisitor if there were any more to come into your fold. Have you prepared for the attack yet?"
She tapped her fingers on the table, still annoyed by the woman they had to fight. One insisting on being surrounded by ghosts and darkness instead of being bathed in the Light.
If that was the case, then she should have stayed where she was, that was the natural order of things. She had served the Light so well once... Confessor Hopesworn had her down as a candidate for the Masters, like Zandrae, she would have been offered enlightenment immediately.
But no, she was another heretic. Another lost in darkness. What made her dangerous was that the Light was still, for some unknown reason, overflowing in her, no doubt because of the artifact, and none of them could get through her shields.
She had a plan... oh yes, she had a plan.
"Judge," she turned to the last person at the table, another hooded woman sitting at the very end, "Have you set the trap yet? Confessor Bloodreign must know when to send his Initiates in."
Confessor Hopesworn gave a longing glance to the empty chair at the head of the table, "Soon," she whispered, too low to be heard, "Soon we will purge the worlds of all their darkness. Your vision will be made to pass."
