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    Sarien found himself led into a ceremonial chamber. Before him were two rows of five heavy wooden white chairs whose occupants were dressed in the same manner as his mother, though a few wore black instead of white. Each member waited silently until Anja joined them in the sole empty chair. The doors closed behind them with a resounding thud. Sarien glanced about the room for a way to escape. There was none.


    Colorful sunlight streamed in from the painted glass windows. Murals decorated the adjacent walls, each depicting a battle between Wayfarers and unknown monsters.


    “You’ve finally arrived home, Sarien. It is still too soon, but we must use with the hand dealt to us.”


    Sarien glanced at the members. Each were masked and he was uncertain who spoke. The only identifying trait was that the voice was male.


    Ein stepped forward. “What is with this little masquerade? Are we so frightful that you must hide your faces?”


    “Ein.” His name spoken on an exasperated sigh.


    “What do you want of me?” Sarien demanded, tired of the theatrics. “Why bar my entry only to welcome me when I break through your barrier?”


    “The barrier is for our protection. Its purpose was never to keep you out.”


    “We were attacked by Wayfarers and Slayers.”


    One of those in the upper row held up a hand as she spoke. A woman’s voice. “They did not know who you were. Now that you are here, we ask you to join us.”


    “Careful, son,” Ein warned.


    “Why? I don’t even know who you are.”


    “Your mother is counted among our numbers. Should that not be enough?”


    Instead of answering, Sarien said, “What happened to the Gatekeepers? Why are Wayfarers and Slayers working with Wyndemir? And most importantly, why are you wearing those masks?”


    “We see you have come with questions. We have questions of our own.”


    The one who spoke removed his mask and showed a face marred and twisted. His skin was opaque, and what lay beneath was inhuman. As shocking as his appearance, it was the man’s eyes that froze Sarien to the floor. The man’s pupils were a milky white, like the Wayfarer’s light, but tinted with the color purple.


    “Wyndemir!”


    His gray flame sprung to life, blazing inside him and then to the palm of his hand.


    The priests! It was a trap all along!


    Sarien scrambled for a way to escape with both his father and mother. Regardless of where Anja’s loyalties lied, he could not leave his mother behind.


    Light or darkness manifested from each member of the council. Their powers tainted with a sickly purple sheen.


    “Sarien, wait!”


    Bracing himself, Sarien watched as his mother removed her mask, revealing a once beautiful woman’s countenance malformed into something unearthly.


    Ein breathed in sharply, “Anja.”


    “Please hear us out,” Anja said, quickly replacing her mask as if shamed by her appearance. Or stricken by Ein’s reaction.


    “What did they do to you?” he asked, anger rising to take pity’s place.


    Anja steeled herself. “I chose this. Before you act rashly, please listen to what we have to say.”


    The man who’d removed his mask spoke. “The Gatekeepers are no more. They could no longer see the way forward. Rather than taking action, they cowered behind apathy and traditions. If we had not unseated them, only dust would remain of the worlds. That includes your little Maydian, Sarien.”


    “So, you killed them all?”


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    “Those who would not join us.”


    “And you were the ones who broke into the void prisons. The ones who freed Wyndemir. Why?”


    One of the black clad members spoke. “Everything was going to crap! The white bastards and us Slayers couldn’t deal with it no more. Don’t you see, little stable boy? It was all turning into the crap you’ve spent your life shoveling!”


    The woman’s bluntness was refreshing. “Your solution was to release the Prime? It doesn’t make any sense.”


    The woman moved to speak again, but the unmasked man held up a hand. “To perform our solemn duty, the Wayfarers and our friends, the Slayers, need power. Power rules absolute. Unfortunately, what power we possessed was not enough. Something needed to change.”


    “And who better to provide the answer than the God of Chaos?” a voice hissed.


    Sarien recognized it immediately. “Qieza! Show yourself!”


    The leftmost person in the upper row stood and removed both mask and hood. A hideous creature emerged, transformed beyond recognition except for the purple of his eyes. There was no mistaking the rhinn responsible for so much pain in Sarien’s home world.


    “Sarien,” Qieza said. “We meet again.”


    The disgust he felt must have been visible on his face. “You’ve allied yourselves with the priests of Wyndemir. Do you know what they have done in Maydian?”


    “Maydian has a part to play. I’m sorry to say that your world will need to perish for us to fulfill our obligation to the Prime.”


    The faces of those he’d left behind, those who’d fought for survival, flashed before Sarien’s inner eye. “What is the point of this? Why have you brought this terrible creature into your ranks?”


    “Oh, I do not think you understand, dear Sarien. I lead this council. Look at them and know my work.”


    “You lead nothing, rhinn scum!” the woman in black shouted.


    The unmasked man winced but nodded in agreement with the woman. “You have been allowed a seat on this council as a gesture of goodwill towards your master. Do not mistake it for influence.”


    “All you do is bleat. In the end, you will know,” Qieza said, donning his mask and hood again.


    “You’re doing all this for power?” Sarien asked, directing the question to his mother.


    “This is madness!” Ein shouted. “Is this what we have become? Releasing a Prime and prostrating before him? Anja, this can’t be you!”


    “Things stir in the dark,” Anja whispered.


    The unmasked man raised a hand to Sarien’s mother to silence her. “The Gatekeepers have known but kept the knowledge from us. Without the power of a Prime behind us, all will come to an end.”


    “You’ll sacrifice my world to Wyndemir. In return, he’ll grant you power. Do I understand that right?”


    “The stable boy figured it out!” the black clad woman shouted, her arms up in the air.


    “Why Maydian? Is it because of me? Do you think I’ll let you destroy my home?”


    “You are nothing more than the end result of a series of coincidences, Sarien,” a new voice said. This one, he didn’t recognize. A melodious voice that sounded neither young nor old, not female or male. He couldn’t pinpoint which of the seated had spoken. “I don’t know much about Maydian history, but perhaps your people noticed a few Halvgudar descending on your world? Hmm? They might have thought this was a choice of their own, but they were drawn to your small corner of the universe due to its connection to their Prime.”


    “Wyndemir.”


    “Correct. It is a place of strong flows. Ancient flows. We now have the clear understanding that it is the birthplace of the Prime of Chaos, long before a single creature walked the land.”


    “Or Wyndemir birthed it,” a new voice croaked. This one was clearly a woman, and an ancient one at that.


    “Not this awful argument again,” the woman in black complained, shaking her fist in the air at the two others. “No one cares!”


    “The boy asked,” the crone said, her voice a little hurt behind her white mask.


    “So many of have died because you all allied yourselves to a monster. What is next? Do you plan to give Maydian to Wyndemir so he can destroy it?”


    “We will not give him anything. The Prime of Chaos will take what is rightfully his. In helping him, he will become an ally beyond your imagination. Already, we’ve grown far stronger than we thought possible. Soon, all Wayfarers and Slayers will see the truth of our actions and join us. With your help, we will contain the Prime on Maydian. We all watched as you repelled the Prime. Your return here was unexpected but fortuitous.”


    “What is this?” Qieza growled, standing. His purple eyes blazed from behind his mask. “The god of Chaos will not be imprisoned again! He will not be denied!”


    The unmasked man looked at Anja. She stood and opened a gateway beside Qieza. Before the priest could react, the masked individual beside him shoved him in. Anja closed the gateway and returned to her seat.


    “Where did you send him?” Sarien asked.


    “Maydian,” Anja said. She didn’t meet Sarien’s eye.


    “He needs time to regain his emotions,” the unmasked man said. “You may call me Piatr.”


    “I won’t let you destroy my home,” Sarien repeated.


    Piatr’s monstrous face twisted, but it was too malformed for Sarien to identify the emotion. “Your mother said you would join us. Do you mean to tell us she spoke falsely?”


    “Burn the bitch!” the black clad woman screeched.


    “I’ll send you to Maydian too, Lila, if you don’t mind your tongue,” Anja said, her voice still calm and collected.


    “You wouldn’t dare!”


    Sarien glanced to his father, who stared in disgusted disbelief at Piatr and then with deep sorrow at Anja. It was up to Sarien to make the next move. He’d heard enough.


    “You will release all your prisoners. You, along with every other Slayer and Wayfarer in Nexus, will help me in imprisoning Wyndemir and driving his forces out of Maydian, as well as from all other worlds.”


    The members fell silent as they turned as one to stare at him.


    “No,” Piatr said.