Dreamer's Throne

There was a single beat of absolute silence, and then the scrape of chairs filled the air as everyone at the table rose, their expressions hard. There was no doubt that Cynen’s words had been a naked threat, and considering that she had just ruthlessly killed one of the noble’s lackeys in front of them, it was obvious that she wasn’t playing around. Add to that the fact that her flames continued to burn the dying troll down below and no one wanted to test how powerful she had become. This was not the script that anyone had anticipated, but they were already riding the tiger, so there was no getting off half way.

“You are acting awfully confident for someone whose gang is in tatters and under investigation, Cynen.”

It was Gero Twin Blade, of the Ebony Association who spoke up first, but when Cynen turned her head to look in Gero’s direction, much of the gang leader’s bravado fled. Even though Cynen’s eyes were covered, there was a terrible weight about her gaze that seemed to measure Gero’s soul, as if the grim reaper was trying to decide if she should continue to live. The pressure was beyond anything that Gero had ever felt from Cynen before, and she couldn’t help but let out a sharp hiss as Garrett’s mental energy, channeled through Cynen’s flaming eyes, slammed into her.

“If you would like to die, you can continue talking, Gero,” Cynen said, her voice even. “I still haven’t forgotten what happened before the attack. I was going to wait to settle with you until after the council, but if you want to move it up the itinerary, I’d be happy to oblige.”

The complete disregard Cynen was showing for her caused blood to rush to Gero’s face, and her hands dropped to her swords, but before she could draw them, Louise, the leader of the information broker Silver Song, spoke up, trying to calm things down.

“Enough quibbling. We are all here, so let’s sit down and begin our discussion. We have much to get through, and fighting amongst ourselves will get us nowhere.”

“Louise is correct,” Jonathan Moran, a plump man dressed as a merchant said, smiling at Cynen. “Come, sit.”

A large, square man, wearing a highly polished breastplate and sporting a bushy mustache slapped his hand against the table and gave Cynen an annoyed look.

“Indeed. We should not have taken our seats without you, but I am busy, so I would request we get started sooner rather than later.”

According to the descriptions that he had gotten, this was the former general, Vent Delland, leader of the Marble Griffin gang. Standing next to him was Carl Rackham of Rackham’s blade, and another young man that Garrett recognized immediately as Thomas Gelavin, the young nobleman he had played cards with at Count Hotis’ party. Thomas was standing at the head seat of the table, next to the chair for the Moonlight Council. Seeing Garrett looking in his direction, Thomas smiled slightly and nodded before looking at Cynen with interest as if to see what she would do.

Lifting her still burning hand, Cynen looked around once more and snapped her fingers, causing the flames that shrouded the troll to die down, vanishing into the air and leaving only the terrible damage they had caused as a reminder that they had ever existed in the first place. By this time, the troll’s regeneration had slowed to a crawl, so it would take some time to repair the damage that its skin and muscles had suffered. The other man who had been burned hadn’t been so lucky, and had long since died, but Cynen took her seat as if nothing had happened.

“Fine,” she said, “let's get this underway.”

After Cynen had taken her seat, the other gang leaders sat as well, filling all but one of the places at the table. Each of the seats was ornate and high backed, showing a symbol that represented the guild that filled that spot. As expected, the empty seat showed the symbol of the Brass Tiger Syndicate, whose leader, Paskal, had been found dead in one of his safe houses, his gang slaughtered around him. None of the gangs knew who had actually killed him, as each of them had been tending to their own forces in the chaos of the attack, and it was with deep suspicion that they looked at one another. Holding up her hand, Louise spoke up first, calling everyone to attention.

“Welcome, everyone, to the meeting of the Ten Seats. We try to do this every year, but as you all know, an unfortunate situation has forced us to move the meeting up. As the official secretary of the Ten Seats, I declare that this meeting is in session. Anything you say or do from this point on will be in the capacity of a seat holder. You should all know Baron Gelavin’s son, Thomas. He is the current leader of the Moonlight Council and will be presiding over this meeting as chair.”

“Cut the chatter and get to the point,” Henry Janice interrupted, his thin face covered in a scowl. “None of us have time to waste.”

Giving Henry a cold look, Louise continued to speak as if she had not been interrupted.

“This year’s meeting is of utmost importance, as one of our number has fallen, and in quite the brutal fashion. What’s more, we don’t know who the perpetrators are.”

“I thought you knew everything,” Aurther Tellson said, his voice snide.

“I certainly don’t know of anyone who could break the Brass Tiger’s neck after disemboweling all of his men. All in the span of about three minutes,” Louise said dryly, causing everyone to look grim.

“That seems… implausible.”

Carl Rackham’s voice was dry as wind rustling over fall leaves, and though he spoke in a near whisper, his voice was filled with a power that carried it to all corners. His sentiment was clearly reflected in the others’ faces, but Louise just shrugged.

“We have not been contracted to discover the killer, so we have dropped the case,” she said, looking around the table. “What is of greater concern is who will take the Brass Tiger’s place. I’m sure that everyone has their own ideas regarding this, and so we are here to ensure that we don’t allow the problem to fester. The last thing we need in the wake of all the turmoil is the gangs getting into bloody fights in the streets.”

Garrett was observing everything from the side, where he and Ryn stood beside a number of other subordinate gang leaders who had been brought by the seat holders. A quick glance had alerted Garrett to the fact that none of them were at the Shaper level, though a few were close. He found this curious, though on further reflection, it seemed that Shapers were really as rare as he had first been led to believe. It was only the major gangs who had fighters at the Shaper level, and even then, it was typically only their leader. The exception to this, of course, was Thomas Gelavin of the Moonlight Council who was a low lighting level awakened, and had two large bodyguards lurking nearby.

It was clear to him that each of the gangs had brought their own people to fill the gap created by the Brass Tiger Syndicate, and would be proposing them as the prime candidate to take over. Garrett was still undecided himself, as while having a seat would be helpful, it would also draw attention that might make it harder to develop the Family’s strength in the shadows.

“Thank you, Louise,” Thomas said, getting to his feet and looking around with an easy smile. “As Lady Louise has said, we really need to get this fixed soon, and to that end, I’m proposing a special process to help facilitate the selection. Typically, when we look to fill a seat, we ask those who wish to compete for the seat to sort it out among themselves by having a series of competitions that we judge. Regardless, it always ends up the same way, with a physical challenge.”

“You mean they just fight over it,” Tellson said, rolling his eyes. “Stop with all the fancy language and speak plainly.”

“As much as it pains me to agree with Tellson, I find myself in lockstep with him on this. Cut to the chase,” Vent Delland said.

Not looking offended at all, Thomas Gelavin nodded.

“Fine. My proposal is simple. We each nominate a gang to hold the new seat. In order for that gang to take the seat, they need the most nominations. After a gang has successfully been nominated, those who did not nominate them are allowed to put a challenge team together to attempt to knock them from the seat. If they defend their seat, they are the new seat holder. If they fail, the challenge team can nominate a gang and the process will repeat.”

It only took Garrett a single moment to understand just how tricky the young nobleman’s proposal was. From what he had learned about the ten seats, it was largely split into two sides with the gangs from each district being loosely allied. Using this method, it wouldn’t be hard for the Moonlight Council to get another gang under their control into a seat. With five votes to four, they could nominate the gang they wanted, and even in the event that their gang was defeated by a challenge team, they would get the chance to send their own challenge team.

Clearly, the rest of the table understood this problem as well, and with a frown, Gero looked at Tellson who looked at Janice whose sour face had sprouted a stormy expression. The only one who didn’t seem bothered was Cynen, but that was for a completely different reason. Before they could protest, however, the gang leaders of Telabron, Silver Song, the Marble Griffins, and Rackham’s Blade all called out their agreement, clearly having talked about it beforehand. To his credit, Tellson was only a beat behind, leaving Cynen, Gero, and Janice as the only ones who had not agreed. Realizing that it was hopeless, Gero gave a short nod, and even Janice grunted something that sounded like an acquiescence. That left Cynen who had yet to respond, but if she realized that everyone was looking at her, she gave no indication of it, causing Louise to prod her.

“What do you think, Cynen?”

“I think you’ll do what you want, so why are you even bothering asking?” Cynen replied, not turning her head.

Coughing to hide his laugh, Thomas Gelavin held up his hand.

“Wonderful. Since we’re all agreed, more or less, let's get right to it. We are going to be introducing our nominations. The gang with the most out of nine, is the one that takes the seat. We’ll start from the lowest seat and go to the first. Cynen, that means you can start.”

For a second, Cynen didn’t move, but then she pushed her chair back and stood up. When she had first arrived, everyone had thought that something had changed, but now that they had the chance to examine her fully, they could all tell that it was more than her strength that had grown. There was a deep calm that ran through her actions, from the way she turned her head to the way she stood, infusing her every movement with a heavy grace. Though her gang was on the bottom of the rankings, and had been the prime target for the challenge that the Brass Tiger Syndicate and the Ebony Association had been planning on mounting at this year’s gathering, Gero Twin Blade suddenly found herself wondering if she was making a mistake.

Once she stood, Cynen paused again, her fingertips resting lightly on the table, as if she was gathering her thoughts. The truth was that Garrett was thinking furiously, trying to figure out what the best path forward was. There was a wonderful opportunity here, but there was something about the way that Thomas had looked at him that was setting off warning bells in his mind. He was trying to weigh out the pros and cons of rising to such a public position, and it was turning out to be impossible. There were simply too many things he didn’t understand.

In his perfect scenario, he wouldn’t even be here, but would be back at the inn observing through Cynen’s awareness. Unfortunately, even though he could possess her fully since she was now his guardian, he had realized that skipping this meeting as the brand new subordinate gang of the Grave Walkers was impossible. Too many people knew of the agreement, and because the meeting had been moved up, it was fresh on everyone’s minds. Thankfully, his mind worked quickly, and he soon came up with his answer.

“I have no nomination,” Cynen said, her voice slow and heavy.

Staring at her like she was crazy, Gero Twin Blade stood up even before Cynen had taken her seat.

“I nominate Twen Fieldsmith of the Dark Blade Collective as the new seat holder.”

Her nomination came as no surprise to anyone, and at the edge of the platform, a scary looking man with a bald head and two large knives stepped forward. His expression was aggressive as he looked around at the other prospective individuals while Gero continued to speak.

“The Dark Blade Collective is one of the best specialist gangs in the city, and are adept at moving goods through the streets. Twen has been a member of our community for a long time and most of you have worked with him, even if you didn’t necessarily know it. He would make an excellent addition to our group.”

“Thank you, Gero. Janice? Do you have someone to nominate?”

Still looking sour, Henry Janice stood up as Gero sat down and looked around the room. He hesitated for a moment when he caught sight of Garrett, but it was such a brief moment that Garrett thought he might have imagined it.

“I nominate the Dark Blade Collective as well. I think gang leader Fieldsmith would be a good candidate.”

“Would you like to tell us why?” Thomas asked, his expression bland.

Everyone around the table knew exactly why the bald thug was being offered up, causing a few people to chuckle at Thomas’ question, but Henry just shook his head and sat down, much to Twen Fieldsmith’s disappointment. Next up was the Marble Griffins who nominated a gang comprised of older soldiers that was just like them, and then Telabron, the merchant guild, who passed, just like the Grave Walkers had. Rising to her feet after gang leader Moran sat down, Louise of the Silver Song gang looked around, a faint smile rising to her lips as she spoke words no one had ever imagined hearing.

“I nominate Garrett Klein of the Klein Family as the new seat holder.”