(POV Florosol)
Now, all the Magisters of the city of Myr, including the four 'black sheep,' had gathered in a large hall to discuss the issue of whether they would surrender to Lord Aeos. Whether they would open the gates of the city for the forces of the Lord Aeos.
I had been appointed as one of the main advisors to one of the Magisters. This was part of their arrangement with Lord Aeos so that I could keep an eye on all the events unfolding inside the city. And as an advisor, I had the privilege to stand at the back of the hall during the deliberation.
Initially, I had been afraid. What if the minds of the Magisters changed suddenly? What if they suddenly awakened their consciences and went back on their betrayal? What if they flipped their side from Lord Aeos back to their city?
I was not afraid of my own death. My own life was worthless and significant. But if anything like this happened, all the plans and efforts of Lord Aeos would go down the drain. Now, however, all this fear did not matter. With Lord Aeos camping just outside the city, and after his demand of surrender, there was little chance that anyone would turn back now.
Even before the meeting of the Magisters began, I knew the outcome. Though there would be a few Magisters who would advocate for surrender, including the four on our side, no conclusion would be reached.
And as the meeting progressed, my prediction turned out to be completely true. There was a lot of argument, intense discussion, heated debate, and a little bit of chaos, but the Magisters were unable to reach a decision. They could not come to a unanimous decision.
Most of them were uncertain and wanted Lord Aeos to make his first move. Even though they were weak and destined to lose against him, they held a belief that even when Lord Aeos attacked, they would be able to hold him off for a few days. This confidence came to them from the height of their walls, and it was only during the siege that they would truly make their choice.
Most of it was merely saving face. I could tell that at least half of the Magisters were either willing to surrender or could be persuaded to do so, but doing so before exchanging even a single sword blow would be a blow to their self respect and self esteem. Their arrogance, ego and false pride would not allow them to bend their back so easily.
Thus, they were not ready to take the initiative. Little did they know that this was their only and last chance. When Lord Aeos would finally swing his sword, there would be no fightback. There would be no other opportunity.
The meeting concluded. The only outcome that could be said to come out of the meeting was to 'wait and watch.'
.
.
.
The Magisters returned to their responsibilities. Evening came by, and a small contingent of Lord Aeos's men approached the city gates just outside the range of arrows.
It was a gesture from them, showing that they were waiting for the surrender of the Magisters and for the gates to open.
It did not happen. The Magisters stood there on the wall, staring at the contingent, at the tent of Lord Aeos, but the gates were not opened.
The soldiers stood there for a couple of hours before they marched back to their camp.
The hearts of the Magisters were heavy and tense as they returned to their luxurious mansions. They understood and realized that they had given their answer to Lord Aeos, and in all probability, he would now begin his attack or siege of the city. War was coming and so was destruction and even more chaos.
Night had finally settled in the city of Myr, and silence and darkness had taken over the streets. There was a current of uncertainty and tension in the air. No one knew what Lord Aeos would do when the sun would rise tomorrow.
In one of the mansions in the city, one of the Magisters, a middle-aged man with long hair, a dense beard, and a bulging stomach, was sitting in his solar. His face was tight with tension, and anxiety was brewing in his heart.
A knock on his door snapped him out of his thoughts. He took a deep breath as he tried to calm his nerves.
"Come in," he finally sighed.
The door was pushed open and an old, frail man entered the room.
"Florosol," the Magister smiled, though the smile was not reaching his ears. "Have a seat."
Florosol, the spy and representative of Lord Aeos, smiled and nodded in return. "Magister."
This middle-aged man was one of the four traitorous Magisters, and Florosol was acting as one of his main advisors.
Florosol took his seat across the table, and the duo remained in silence for a few moments. The silence was depressing and suffocating, not for Florosol, but for the Magister. Despite Florosol being a servant or subordinate, at this point in time, he was the man with the upper hand and the greater authority.
"So, Florosol," the Magister finally broke the silence. "What is going to happen? Is this it? A message for surrender, and now we go to war? I was expecting something else, not an outright war."
Florosol remained silent for a couple of moments before he smiled, or, more accurately, smirked.
"Magister," he said. "I am not privileged to reveal much to you, but there is only one thing I will say or suggest."
"Go and sleep tonight," he continued. "You do not need to worry about anything."
The Magister was about to open his mouth to speak, but Florosol cut him off.
"And when you wake up tomorrow," he said. "You will wake up in a new Myr. A changed Myr."
Whatever words were in the mouth of the Magister, he swallowed them back. He did not understand everything, but Florosol had indicated clearly that something massive was about to happen tonight.
Lord Aeos was not going to make his move in the morning. He was going to make his move in the night itself.
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