RP:On Clouds We Find Truth; A Wizard's Decision

This is a Mage's Guild RP.

On Frostmaw Clouds

Emielle skims above the peaks of rooftops and tents, nearly invisible against Frostmaw's skies with her scales of blue and plumage of white. The couatl, while still young, has clearly undergone growth spurts, now reaching over five feet in length, as well her headcrest has begun to fill out with her adolescence. Where most couatl sport a fan-like crest atop their head, Emielle's has formed as twin white tufts on either side of her head, in the fashion of Horned Owls. Her form is still as thin and slender as a ribbon snake, a stark constrast to the python-like build of her brother Mamoru. It's this slim form that's now gliding about Frostmaw, with the couatl's smooth head turned downward as if she's searching for something--leisurely, yet still searching. A wizard's hat is spied eventually, and with a small hiss of triumph, Emielle folds her wings and stoops into a gentle dive, pulling up feet above to begin circling Svilfon and his fine hat. ~Wizard Svilfon! I have been looking for you.~ Emille's mind-voice proclaims in soft, pleased tones. ~Or rather, I have been looking for you for someone else, but that is nearly the same thing, I think. Which is to say, Satoshi has returned and wished to speak with you.~ The magus' precise words had been, "If he has the time to spare." but for a ponderous creature like Emielle, everyone has the time for everything. ~She said as well that you may require Trebel to reach her. I can show you the way.~ Patiently the young couatl awaits a reply. She loves replies, they're always so varied and interesting to listen to--even when you're not supposed to be listening in on other's conversations. Apparently that's considered rude.

Svilfon has been wandering through Frostmaw's village for quite some time now, seemingly relaxed, though in a very rare event, he's not acknowledging the giants who wave or call greeting to him. The wizard doesn't even hear the voices. Thankfully, the giants aren't taking offence at being ignored, though a few do head towards their homes and place helmets upon heads, or ensure always well-sharpened weapons are still razor sharp. Anything that can distract Svilfon so much may well bring trouble to Frostmaw. But to the giant, not a single one feels even the slightest shiver of fear over such a prospect. And juding by some smiles, they look forward to it. But all this is lost in the wizard's wake as he wanders without aim, thinking deeply until the only kind of voice he ever could have heard whispers into his mind – a part of which he keeps open to such communication now his close companion is a couatl. Hat tilts back and bearded face lifts to the sky, followed immediately by a grin so big it's easily visible beneath his beard. He responds in a normal voice, which easily reaches the couatl. “You, Emielle, you are looking as lovely as always.” He tips his hat to the sky. “And the lady icicle has returned?” His voice grows quieter for the muttered words, “I swear she has some wizard in her,” before once again his tones are normal. “If she says I may need Trebel, then Trebel I shall call.” The wizard doesn't bother contemplating this too much... he did adore the angha, so any excuse to spend time with him is always pounced upon. Fingers are placed in his mouth, before the vampire lets out a whistle which, though rather quiet, was designed by Svilfon to reach Trebel wherever he is. “He comes, lovely one.” The wizard smiles. “Did you enjoy your trip with the queen and her husband? And does she fare well?” Though, it was Svil's intention to chat to Emielle in the time it took Trebel to respond, he only has the time for those two questions before, from the skies above, a huge angha comes spiralling down, avoids hitting Emielle with a deftness that belies his bulk, before landing just beside the wizard in an explosion of snow which coats everything close from head to toe. Laughing, Svil half shakes himself off before wandering over to Trebel, looking like Father Time now his beard is white. Easily, Svil climbs onto Trebel, before speaking again to Emielle, “Lead on, lovely one, if you will.”

The young couatl cocks her feathery head to one side at Svilfon's questions, as much because she naturally mulls over questions directed at her as because she's genuinely baffled by what the wizard has asked. By the time Emielle has found an answer, Trebel has arrived in his usual manner of wild grace and the wizard has climbed aboard. At this, Emielle tips her wings and begins a winding ascent. After all, she does not need to look at nor be close to Svilfon for her voice to be clearly heard, and so she flies as she replies, ~I did not go with them. I was in the library. Satoshi had given me a new book to read.~ Those that know Emielle can take much meaning from this answer. More than likely, the knowledge-happy couatl had become so engrossed in reading that the foxlings and pandettes in the manor probably mistook her for a statue in need of dusting. ~Oh, that's right. Satoshi wished me to tell you she was leaving me behind, so that you are aware I would be around.~ Way to go on the late delivery, Emielle. But as far as the couatl is concerned, a messaged delivered late is better than one never delivered at all. Unaware at her ineptitude as a courier, Emielle flies onward, taking an unusual course for supposedly going to visit Satoshi: they are, after all, flying into the clouds, and last anyone checked, the magus does not have wings like Trebel or Emielle. All questions are answered when the azure couatl breaks through the cloudbank, mist streaming from her wings in ragged strips as she begins to circle once more. From nearby, a black gloved hand is lifted in greeting before the mists recoil to reveal Satoshi, lounging without a care in the world atop the clouds, Riss' stolen sunglasses perched upon the end of her nose. "Wizard~," the magus hails, far too casually for one who is impossibly seated upon a throne of clouds, "I'm glad Emielle found you. I was starting to worry she'd go back to her book and remember to look for you in a week's time~." Emielle takes the joke in surprisingly easy stride for a legless creature. Or perhaps she's just oblivious to the fact that Satoshi is poking fun, for as far as the couatl is concerned, it's perfect, honest truth. While the couatl contents herself with slithering around the hillocks of clouds, Satoshi sits up to give Svilfon and Trebel a proper salute."I figured I'd say hello, et let you know I was home, before I officially make it known. And I wanted to thank you for looking out for everything while I was away. I hope not too many things were burnt down~?"

Laughter comes loudly from atop Trebel's back as Svilfon finds out rather late that Emielle was left behind, though he's not at all surprised by her explanation of why he didn't know. He too has lost himself so deeply in a book he vanished from the world for a while... and last time those foxlings and pandettes -had- dusted him off like he were a statue (And in truth, the wizard didn't even notice them doing it.). “Thank you for delivering the message, lovely one, late as it was.” He tips his hat from his spot on Trebel, “Though, I would have come by and said hello had I known.” Pale eyes wander for a moment, and the wizard almost asks if Emielle knows where she's going considering the mountains are getting smaller at the same rate as the clouds are getting bigger, but he doesn't yet question the couatl's directions. Instead he looks over the side as Frostmaw shrinks until his vision is enveloped in mist. Only when they break through the clouds, free to see the sun for the first time in a while – it's hardly a common site in Frostmaw – that the wizard opens his mouth to speak. Which is rather fitting, because it would have opened to form a perfect 'O' anyway. He's seen Satoshi, and though instinctively he tips his hat in response to her greeting, he's more than a little shocked to see her sitting in a throne of clouds. Nevertheless, he's a wizard who's used to seeing strange sights, so quickly he recovers with a small smile, “Lady icicle, I am glad to see you again.” The wizard, before saying anything else, reaches into his robes and pulls forth a small folded piece of paper. He lifts it to his mouth and blows upon it, before releasing it like one would a bird. True to form, the note flutters over towards Satoshi's grasp – it is the note she left to him in case she failed to return. That done, he speaks again. “Welcome you are, lady queen. Frostmaw is strong, as are our friends of a feather... and are you, too, well? Beyond having more than just your head in the clouds, it seems.” He offers a crooked grin at that, though his expression is mostly just jovial. He is glad to see his friend again, as his Trebel, judging by his increasing excitement at once again being close to Satoshi. "And I didn't set too much on fire... Frostmaw is still as frosty as ever, lady icicle, worry not." He grins again at that.

As the folded note flutters close, Satoshi lifts a hand as if to catch it... only to give a twist of her fingers, causing the paper to burst into brilliant blue flames and promptly disappear. Naturally, it isn't true fire Satoshi has conjured, nor has the note been truly destroyed, but for the time being it is elsewhere, for one day it may be needed--so Aeron says--and it is always best to be prepared--again, so Aeron says. Content with the removal of the paper, Satoshi settles into a cross-legged position, hands propped upon her knees as she grins up at the angha-perched wizard. "I am well. Saw some exotic places, did some interesting things, and learned some neat tricks." Cloud-lounging included. Still no wings, though, which is an eternal sore spot for a magus always surrounded by beings and beasts with such glorious appendages. The best she can do are replicas, but those are nothing more than a mask for a being without a face. A slight frown crosses Satoshi's features at this thought, although it is quickly banished in favor of a lopsided smirk. "I'm sure you got into some sort of mischief while I was away, wizard~." He wouldn't be Svilfon otherwise!

Svilfon watches the note vanish into the brilliant blue flames and he nods more to himself than the queen of frost and snow. The wizard kept the note on him at all times, and throughout the journey Satoshi took, he'd felt it like it were a weight upon his shoulders. It's not responsibility he fears, nor would he walk away from Frostmaw if ever the snow queen left without returning. It was just... let's say he's much happier when Satoshi is risking life and limb a little closer to home. At least then he could get some bloody revenge if something went astray. At her first words, he grins, the seriousness vanishing from his face as quickly as the note disappeared. “I can tell... clouds, lady icicle? Though, I suppose I'm not entirely shocked, considering how you greeted me when last I returned from a journey.” He's still trying to puzzle out how Satoshi stood upon the air when he was at the well... at least, enough to try and emulate it. “And trouble? Me?” The wizard puts on a shocked expression, one that is perfectly mirrored by Trebel. “I was as regal as a snowflake, as sensible as a snow storm, and as unrelenting as an avalanche.” He nods, hiding briefly beneath the brim of his hat the too crooked smile which flashed across his lips, though Trebel's look isn't quite so conveniently disguised. She would find out what trouble Svil, Alahir and Trebel got into when she returns properly... something Svil is looking forward to. You think sleeping around the Coterie is dangerous, try vanishing for almost a month! More than charcol shall be the price of such things. “I did miss you, though. There are some things we must discuss... important things...” He waves his hand absently, then. “Not about Frostmaw, or the Eyrie...” Which leaves really only one thing Svil is entirely loyal to.

Satoshi's whiskers twitch as she wrinkles are nose at Svilfon. "Monsieur wizard, I happen to be one of those that can actually speak to said natural elements, and there is absolutely nothing regal about most snowflakes. For the most part, they yammer, constantly. Snow storms have no common sense, and seem to think battering at the unmoving faces of mountains is a wise choice of action until they burn out. Avalanches are unrelenting, I'll give you that, but when your other two claims are inaccurate, that's a dangerous formula~." A laugh escapes her then, because the idea of Svilfon causing rampant trouble is more comforting to Satoshi than him attempting to behave. Pleased, the magus flops back into the clouds so that she's half obscured by their billowing embrace. "And yes, clouds. They're made of water, y'know, even moreso than the air itself. It took a bit of tweaking to talk them into it, but I've got a new means of travel should I have to cross oceans now~." You're rambling, Sato. "Ahem. But that can wait. Important things? The guild, I assume? Did someone finally off Lady Death? ...Permanently?" It's a valid addition to the question, when considering the person being asked about.

Svilfon flicks his gaze to the side. He knew beforehand he should have used his far more tricky fire analogy about his good behavour, rather than try to fool the Queen of Frost and Snow into believing his innocence with ice, but he just couldn't resist the entirely apt expression. He doesn't bother to reply, though, other than laugh alongside Satoshi with genuine good humour. He knew her well, very well; there was no trouble he would do to harm Frostmaw, but Svil knows she understood his nature enough to realize there would be something waiting for her. But her amusement in it equals his own, and so he merely laughs for a long moment, nods to her explanation, obscure enough that it is, before shaking his head at her final words. “I'd have given you her head alongside that note were that the case, lady icicle.” They're spoken without the added, 'you should know that', even though she would hear those silent words. “More important it is than Death claiming his favourite student.” Which is saying something, considering both Satoshi and Svil's dislike of the woman. “No, more important..” He sighs. “Lord Rheven has given up his position as Archmage, lady icicle...” The wizard lifts a hand then to stop any immediate reply, though it's an absent gesture. There were things he must say, so say them he would in one go. “He did not name an heir to the Guild, other than saying he wishes Tiphareth and I battle over the Archmage position... but I do not want the title, not like this.” His gaze had drifted as he spoke, but when the last word is heard he ensures his pale eyes are locked on Satoshi. “I was given the right due to defeating Tiphareth last time... but you and I understand the truth of that fight like no others can, don't we?” He doesn't wait for an answer. “I did not defeat him alone. We defeated him. I may have stood there, but we trained, learned, grew, changed... everything that lead up to that final dance was merely a shadow of the many you and I had shared beforehand. You and I, lady icicle, and to a lesser extent the Coterie... we defeated Tiphareth... but for the Guild, it needs not a leader such as that. It needs a leader like the lichdrow, who stood there defiant against me no matter what, and almost won... he stands also between Vakmatharas and Xalious, bridging the Guilds... and in truth, Satoshi.” The wizard leans closer at these final words, ensuring she doesn't misunderstand them at all. “I do not want a position in the guild that is not attainable to you, due to forgotten, ancient tenants. They say no mancer can be crowned archmage, yet what is the use of a title if some within our ranks cannot attain it? No. Though, I did accept at the time... I want your opinion. Tell me you think the job should be his, and I will not face him.” It's clear that's the answer Svil wants. Not because he's scared of the drow – far from it; he'd fight him again right now for nothing other than the thrill of battle. But because Svil wants the Guild strong, and Tiphareth is the one to lead it there... added to which, he sees Satoshi as a perfect equal of himself. She's as well read, as powerful, as intelligent, and more deadly. She is Ice, where as Svil is Fire, both needed within the ranks. He would fight any including her for higher ranks in the Guild, but he wouldn't fight if others could not also get them, due to something he sees as inane. “Do not worry about our loyalty, lady queen. Speak from the position of a Magister Templi only.” Only then does he truly pause, and allow her a response.

An answer does not come immediately. Satoshi is taking a page from Emielle's book and giving Svilfon's questions all the attention and thought they are due. Glimpse of conflicting emotions flicker across her features as the magus thinks, but eventually she answers, words slow yet firm, proof she is not wavering in her opinion. "I think that the Guild is in need of the Eldermage. Not because I think you are incapable, hellfire knows you can give anyone or anything a run for their money and make them rue it, but because I think it does not suit you. You are not a creature of titles, dear Svilfon. Wizard is who and what you are. You need nothing more. Nor do I think you need to be tied further to something by title and position. You serve the guild perfectly as you are. What the Archmage has offered is a job that has room for duty, not experiment, exploration, and excitement. I fear you would chafe in such a harness, were it put upon you. And yet, I also think you would do the job admirably, without faltering. I just can't see you being -happy- about it. Not truly. While I don't agree with the limitations they force upon my specialties in matters like this, were it different, I don't think I would try for the position myself either. Frostmaw and the Eyrie are duty enough for me, and they're duties that come with a degree of freedom in and of themselves, y'know? Maybe one day, the rankings of mancers will change~. But that's neither here nor there. You have my opinion, but I have a bit more to add to it: if you decide to agree with my words, I think you should still fight the Eldermage. Not for the title, if that's what you choose, but simply to remind him, and all others, that you are more than capable. That the Archmage's--and my--opinion of you was not wrong. You are a force to be reckoned with, all the more fearsome for not striving after every position you could claim in the lands."

Svilfon takes a page from Satoshi's new Emielle inspired book and has his turn to fall into contemplative silence. He thinks much over her words and agrees with almost all of them, so much so he himself could probably have had this discussion with a snowman instead, and answered himself as he knew she would. But he needed to hear them from the queen, too. It was important. Even Trebel seems to grow more still as Svilfon thinks, merely flying there as stable as he can. After what seems a very long time, though the sun barely moves across the sky, the wizard speaks again. "Wizard is more than enough title for anyone, lady icicle. A truth very few could understand. And I thank you for your honesty. They are my thoughts also... an archmage cannot wander anywhere, nor publically cast spells which have a high rate of failing just because it's fun... they cannot live... I would wear the title if I truly thought I would do a better job than Tiphareth, but I do not think I could. Different, yes, and not bad, as you say. But... the title belongs to the Eldermage. He is the epitome of it. Where as I... I am just a wizard." He smiles at that, a genuine smile that brightens his beard-hidden features considerably. "As for fighting him... I will do so again, I am sure, but not right away. For the Guild, lady icicle... it would not be wise for the new archmage to lose a battle right away, even against one of his own. I'll give him some time, then I shall challenge him once more." The wizard smiles again at that. "But in truth, as always, I do better when not leading others... I am content, as is my position, to merely guide them through their own choices, and aid with what wisdom this hatted-head does possess. Thank you again, lady queen... for this, for everything." He ends his words with a tip of his hat.

Satoshi salutes Svilfon in turn, for she could never do justice to the hat-tipping he has mastered--and does that ever sting her pride to admit, even to herself! As her hand drops back to disappear within the cloud, the magus has to add on one of Svilfon's earlier remarks, "I wouldn't use the phrase, 'just a wizard', mind you. There is no 'just' about that. There's hardly a better thing to embody." A comical wiggle of her whiskers marks the unspoken, playful words of, 'Naturally, "Magus" is one of those better things~'. "No need to thank me, dear wizard. I only spoke truthfully, as you requested and as I always do when speaking to you. It was your choice to consider it worthwhile. And I look forward to when you challenge the Eldermage again. Perhaps one day I'll do the same, for the simple pleasure of testing my abilities against another of our Guild-mates. After all, it's endless fun when I fight you~."

Svilfon grins at the snow queen. He heard her unspoken words rather clearly, and he feels the urge to leap off Trebel and tackle her from the clouds. Not out of anger, there is none. Merely out of... well... Svil and Satie-ness. But he refrains from doing so and offers a tip of his hat instead. “Thanks are given when they are earned, lady queen, and yours was. How many in this world would speak so honestly? To a friend, that is, over such matters? Not many.” The wizard is sure of that. “And you should. Our battles are great, but I would give up a finger on both hands to watch you battle the Eldermage...” A faraway look comes into Svil's eyes for a moment, before he shakes his head of the image of a frozen lichdrow and a cackling ice-magus. “In time, perhaps, we shall both face him again... I suppose I should go tell him. I can feel him waiting... ready... I do hope he is not disappointed... though, lady queen, it does mean his position in the Guild is open now... perhaps you and I will cross swords for it. Satoshi, Queen of Frostmaw, Elemental Master of the Mage's Guild.” He doesn't think she'd well suit the name Sublime Master. “Or a variation on it. Would suit you.” He offers a lop-sided grin at that. “Truly, lady icicle, I am glad to see you again.” And he means it; he'd missed the snow queen. Though, the two of them more often than not get into dangerous trouble together, the wizard never doubts that the two of them can get out of anything. It's something he's missed.

There is little Satoshi needs to say, her fang-filled grin is response enough to the wizard's words. That is, perhaps, one of her favorite things about interacting with him. Words are unnecessary, they know each other's thoughts and while she might not understand some of his driving motivations, and he hers in return, they can predict and expect them. The magus' grin widens as she plucks a ribbon of cloud from the bank, twisting it into the vague shape of a bird perched on her fingers. "Elemental Master. It has a certain ring to it, no?" she asks the bird, which chirps once in a far-off, faded way before it disperses once more into vapors. "Whether it's for a heightened position in the guild, or for simple fun, Svilfon, I look forward to once again trading spells with you. Always~."

Svilfon flashes Satoshi a bright grin at that. “You always know where to find me... and though I shall go to Xalious now to speak to our new Archmage, I shall seek you out again soon... for the trading of spells, I owe you one anyway, and for shared images, which you owe me, and for a better discussion about your adventures.” He grins at that, before tipping his hat. “For now... to Xalious.” The wizard tips his hat again, to Emielle first, then Satoshi, before patting Trebel on the back. “It is good to see you once more, Satoshi queen. As always.” That said, the wizard stands and simply jumps off the side of Trebel. He waits until he's beneath the clouds to teleport to Xalious, wanting his exit to be suitably dramatic, of course, and within mere moments is appearing beneath the great tree, to meet Tiphareth who is already there waiting...

While Svilfon is freefalling prior to teleporting, Satoshi is sitting up in a fluster and searching for Emielle. "Oi! I told you to give him those images, Em! -Before- you started reading your book!" The couatl has apparently forgotten another message she was supposed to deliver weeks ago, and so in her typical way, she delivers it know. Late, but delivered: all the mental images Svilfon could want of poor Hildegarde's comical predicament in a dress. Sending said images while the wizard is focused on spells--and about to have a serious discussion with a very serious Eldermage--might not be Emielle's wisest move.

Xalious Tree

Tiphareth sits patiently beneath the metaphysical arbor, eagerly awaiting arrival of his named adversary. Too long had he waited for this day to come again, and in such a suitable place. Well prepared he was for the coming battle, though his face was stoic on the surface, having foregone the normal adornments about his visage. Taking on a meditative state, the Lichdrow now bides his time in quite preparation.

Svilfon appears before the Xalious tree with thin tendrils of clouds clinging to his robes, though they don't take long to fade into the warmer air of Xalious's climate. The wizard doesn't need eyes to seek out Tiphareth, sensing the powerful mage even as he takes a step towards him, before offering a deep and respectful bow. "Tiphareth, we must speak." Svilfon straightens, then, before awaiting a response. He too meditates often, and sometimes it takes him a while to return. So with infinte patience he will stand there until Tiphareth is ready.

Tiphareth 's carefully attuned senses alert him the instant Svilfon arrives, the recent training in perception of teleportational magics coming in handy. The Eldermage was not expecting a conversation beneath the tree on this evening, and contemplates briefly that it may even be a ruse by the clever wizard. The short-lived thought quickly dissipates though, as he settles on the belief that his former student must at least have enough honor not to start such an important duel through those means. Turbulent blazing eyes are turned toward Svilfon as the Patron responds, "What is it you wish to speak of?"

Svilfon opens his mouth to reply, before bubbles of laughter echo out from him, resounding past the Xalious tree with the carefree easy of a group of teenage pixies. Emielle, the pscionic couatl, was adhering to the wants of Satoshi in paying the wizard for a service... a payment that was the image of Hildegarde when she wore a dress too small, looking exactly like what she was... a powerful dragon knight in a dress. The wizard raises a hand towards the drow, though the motion is not threatening, before speaking. "Do forgive me, Master Tiphareth. No disrespect." He nods at that, wipes away a tear in his eyes, before speaking again in tones which are as serious as he can make them after such a display. "Lord drow... powerful Tiphareth. I wish to speak of this... of us... and of that." He motions towards where the tower proudly stands tall against the sky, almost as if it were challenging the very might of the world. "You are here ready for me... for battle... to claim the title of Archmage." A brief pause, "But it is not right. Look at us, lord drow. I am a wizard, and though powerful and deadly, I will always be a wizard. You... you are the eptiome of what a mage should be. Strong - moreso than myself is my honest belief, though fear isn't a fuel for this, as you should know. But you are strong, and wise, and in a position to take the Guild to new heights. If I won, lord drow, by chance, then what prize would I get? A title I don't truly care about, and something I care very much about - the Guild - being lead by someone who is not worthy. I will not weaken what I love for glory... even though, in truth, I believe you would defeat me. Strong you are, Lord of Trist'Oth. The title of Archmage has been earned by you, through years of ruling this Guild. Rheven here or not, you rule the Guild, and have, and should. It is yours..." The wizard tips his hat once more. "I am not giving it to you, mistake me not; I am saying that it is yours, and any battle between the two of us will never change that. By Rheven's words, the two of us should face each other. Tiphareth D'Artes, I decline the challenge to your right to rule. Lead the Guild well... for the moment you falter, or if you do not prove to be the leader I think you are..." his tones make it clear he doesn't think that would happen - he knows Tiphareth too well, "... I will come for you and make my challenge for the job. Tiphareth... Archmage of Hollow. It is... right."

Tiphareth didn't move from his meditative position, remaining instead in a statuesque pose, so still only the undead could pull it off. The Eldermage certainly did not expect such a response, though in all honesty, he had contemplated it as at least a possibility. Tiphareth knew well the Wizard made no decisions founded in fear, perhaps a fool-hardy stance, but noble none the less. "Your words are kind, and honor me. I will bear the title with all the dignity it deserves. I have little doubt that we shall fight again, some day, but perhaps it can be for our own reasons and on our own terms instead of being directed by an outside force. Shall I contact Rheven myself, or will you alert him to your decision?"

Svilfon shakes his head, "No, lord drow. My words are truth and the honour earned is your own." Once again the wizard offers a deeply respectful bow to Tiphareth - something he only ever shares amongst those who have truly mastered their archaic craft. "I have no doubt you will wear it well, and forget not the oath you made to me. The highest power attainable, Tiphareth D'Artes, soon to be Archmage of Hollow. Lead us to it, and strive for it." For the last time, Svilfon offers a bow to Tiphareth. "As for Rheven... I will speak to him. I think it best I explain my decision, so he knows why I go against his own." The wizard grins, then. "A part of me is sad we shall not battle, Tiphareth. But the greater part of me is content. This decision is right." Those last words are spoken in strange tones, almost reverently as Svil's eyes look to the Xalious Tree. "Though, I must ask. What of your former position as Eldermage? I believe those of us who're Magister Templi should battle for it, though the choice is yours. But that is not a battle I will decline, if such is your decision. Whatever it may be, I will adhere to it with the faithfulness I have shown Rheven and the Guild in the past." A hat tip, an unconscious gesture. "And yes, we shall battle again. But I'll feel far better when it is upon terms we decide, not a fallen vampire."

Tiphareth finally stands, a slight smile upon his face as he was finally mere formalities away from the title he'd sought after so long. "My former position... I will give that serious thought. Both Satoshi and yourself, along with Lady Tenebrae may all be interested in vying for the position. Upon completion of my meeting with Rheven, and finalizing of the transfer, I will contact each of the Magister Templi individually and discern interest in the role; should more than one wish the rank increase, I shall decide on the best course of action at that time." The Lichdrow chose not to comment on the "fallen vampire" remark, though he personally held very similar beliefs on the matter. "I will assume from your query, that you are personally interested in the Sublime Master grade?"

Svilfon nods with Tiphareth's words. "I am sure your decision will be wise. The world will look to you now as the archmage. All your decisions must be wise." The wizard laughs at that; it's an expulsion of some lingering dread he had. Many of the wizard's decisions, to others at least, do not seem wise. But that's because, he's sure, they're not wizards, and as such cannot comprehend the truths of life. "And yes, I am interested in it. Very much so. I think that is a position I could well fill, as could Tenebrae and Satoshi. Though, I may change its name." Another slight grin at that. "But that's for another day. For now, know that it is a position I would seek, and happy I would be to battle either or both the other Magister Temiplis for the right to it, if that is what you decide."

Tiphareth offers a deep nod toward Svilfon. "You are certainly an honorable practitioner of the arcane arts, and I count myself lucky as having contributed to your learning. I will let you go on now with your evening, it seems I have preparations to make, and a meeting to schedule. I shall be in contact soon regarding the vacancy of my position."

Svilfon offers the lichdrow a last tip of his hat. "Glad I am also that you contributed to my learning. I would not be half the wizard I am today without your aid, and despite our differences, that is a truth never far from my mind." Svilfon flashes a grin at Tiphareth. "Congratulations again, Tiphareth D'Artes. Lead us well." The wizard lifts his hand as if he's going to tip his hat once more, before he vanishes without trace, leaving Tiphareth alone before the Xalious Tree.