Gathering of Two-Hundred
The Armazel Military & Magical Academy was headquartered in the majestic, spiraling building made of gold near the coliseum and the palace, and on a typical day would be buzzing with activity. Today, it was silent as a graveyard. Almost everyone in the city of Ischuros was gathered at the Pyramid Coliseum, and nobody had the heart for study on such a lively day. Within the tower, where its proportions defied the limitations of its outer shell, a staircase led upwards, it too in a spiral, at the top of which lay a heavily sealed door, with both heavy chains and magical inscriptions.
Inside, was a large round table, around which sat two-hundred ornate thrones, and the roof above was opened wide, allowing a perfect view of the sky. Only two thrones were currently occupied, Two men with long hair and beards, emitting a faint aura of power, conversed as they sat beside each other.
"You always worry too much. I told you we've got time and we do! Relax, please. Your gripes are giving me migraines," advised one of the men, with rich black hair and thick eyebrows, wearing similar styled robes to the old man who mysteriously appeared, then disappeared in the crowd just a moment ago. This was the official attire of the Armazel Academy, which this man had designed personally.
The redhead next to him glared at his counterpart in exasperation, "How do you know that? Don't you know who you're trying to deceive? This is the Most High we're talking about, Armaros!" he moaned with desperation.
Indeed, these were the stars Armaros and Azazel. More accurately, their avatars, which were hollow physical shells designed to carry a faint trace of a star's consciousness. This was why they both looked alike, other than the color of their hair.
"Well, Azazel, I've got news for you," A voice echoed from within the chamber, as a flash of blue light flared in the room for a moment, and the old man from the crowd earlier appeared in the room. He directly took a seat across the table from the two of them. "Triac knows the Book of War is in Ischuros."
"What?!" Azazel jumped from his seat, "This is terrible. I thought you said we have time!" Azazel roared at Armaros.
"Azazel..." Armoros lazily replied, as he stared blankly in the eyes of the old man "Arakiba was only messing with you. Isn't that right Arakiba?"
The old man, Arakiba, nodded his head in understanding, "Of course. Azazel, don't you think if he knew we'd already be in his grasp?" Arakiba smiled genially at Azazel, who paused mid-tantrum.
Azazel sat down in a huff, "That isn't funny. Shouldn't the headmaster show more sense?" he grumbled discontentedly. This day was of utmost importance to his plans, a proof of concept that his way could raise up a hero to stand against the Demon King. More importantly, he wanted to be able to stand as justified before both Raguel, whom he lied to, and the Most High. He still feared that his mistake all that time ago would catch up to him. He needed to succeed, and quickly.
Arakiba, who served as headmaster of the academy, nodded, "You're right of course. I'll be more careful." He smirked slightly in the direction of Armoros. This Azazel truly was easy to manipulate.
At that moment, blue lights flashed about the room with increasing frequency, as more and more stars' avatars arrived, eventually filling up the two-hundred seats. These two-hundred men and women were known in the city as the Magus' Council, and they were even more widely respected than the king. They instructed the people in the ways of the revelations in such a wise yet understandable way, and practiced them so fluently, that they all achieved great renown as being beloved by the divine.
The truth was, all two-hundred were the avatars of stars, and their knowledge stemmed from things beyond what was taught in the revelations. They kept their higher status secret however, and as far as the citizens and rulers of the Haskud Kingdom were aware, they were people of common birth unconnected by all but their unique talents. This made them even more beloved in the people's eyes, and helped maintain their lofty places in society.
"Welcome, great ones," Arakiba put on a cordial expression as he started the meeting, "We have gathered on this day, the-" *cough* Arakiba cleared his throat unconsciously, shooting a quick glance Azazel's way, "Excuse me, the first anniversary of our establishment, to make some decisions, before we observe the tournament I have arranged for you all." Arakiba then put on a showman's grin as he waved his hand, causing the roof to close, the surface of which was coated in a reflective obsidian. On the reflective surface, images sprang to life, showing the interior of the coliseum, still streaming with people as they entered. The gathered stars mumbled incoherently in approval.
"Now, our first order of business. With all we've given them, the humans have made some good progress, growing in strength and knowledge. As it stands, they only need the slightest push to get where we need them." Armaros spoke in monotone, as if nothing he said mattered, but his legs were shaking like he was barely containing something.
"Are you alright?" Azazel asked him worriedly.
"Sure, it's nothing!" Armoros aimed a strange smile his way, "just some problems with the responsiveness of my avatar."
Azazel nodded, his expression still showing concern, "You should get that fixed soon. It wouldn't do to blow our cover."
"Of course, of course. Now! Back to business," Arakiba exclaimed, "the question is, in which direction do we guide them? They have weapons, war, and all the things needed to perfect those, as well as something...extra Azazel provided." Arakiba shot an odd glance Azazel's way, who was wearing a proud expression. Arakiba forced his eyes back to the others, "So, now what? The floor is open."
A few clamoring voices clashed as soon as Arakiba stopped speaking, but Armoros merely took a slightly taller posture, and the stars quickly ordered themselves.
"We should double down," one star eagerly declared, "give them more killing arts, better weapons, more clever war strategies." He animatedly gestured as he spoke, clearly obsessed.
"Shut up, Ramiel." Another star instantly shot him down, "That's stupid. They need balance. They can kill, and they can repopulate quickly. I'm sure that was the purpose of Azazel's other gift, am I right?" The star began staring at Azazel in reverence, but before Azazel could even answer, she continued incorrigibly, "So why would you throw off that balance? Now, it's time for something else. I think two things, in equal proportion. For balance." The star swept her gaze across the seated council.
"I concur with Tamiel," Azazel supported her with a nod.
"So do I," Armoros spoke, startling Azazel.
Armoros and he agreed on something? Azazel suddenly got chills.
So it was decided that they would give two things that worked to mutually benefit and balance each other. After a series of deliberation, the conversation went in this direction,
"Well they haven't really developed much in terms of trade. They still rely mostly on bartering."
"So, we would what? Give them economics lessons? How dull." one star complained
"Dull? Perhaps for the inadequate." Asael, the right hand man of Armaros, sneered, "Leave this to me. I've got some ideas. If that's alright?"
The council agreed, in an overwhelming vote of 170-30. Again, Azazel and Armoros agreed with a vote of yes. This made Azazel start to wonder if he'd misunderstood Armoros to some extent. He looked at the mad eyes feigning boredom on Armoros' face and shuddered. No, no, definitely not. He must be more careful. So, Azazel spoke up.
"We mentioned balance. This knowledge could potentially create an imbalance of power amongst the humans. I think the second issue should be governance. Specifically, proper governance." Azazel soberly recommended.
"Indeed," a monotone voice concurred, "That king of theirs has been useless in all but the establishment of this academy, and as a voice for declaring war. It's about time someone shaped him up." Armoros gave Azazel an encouraging smile, causing a dismayed expression to creep into his face.
And so, it was decided that of their wide breadth of knowledge, they would give the people 'The Manuscript of Mercantilism' and 'The Tome of Kings.'
"Go. Asael, you take 'The Manuscript of Mercantilism' to whomever you find most suitable. Tamiel, you take 'The Tome of Kings' to King Gel-ad." Arakiba instructed.
"Now?" Tamiel whined, as Asael obeyed, "but, I wanted to see the show." Tamiel put on a childish expression and aimed her pitiful eyes at Arakiba.
Arakiba sighed, "Alright, fine. Ramiel, you do it."
"What? Why me?" Ramiel complained obliviously.
"Shut up and go!" Arakiba lost his patience and threw the tome at him, launching him through the air when it struck. Ramiel vanished in a flash of light with the tome as he flew.
On the ceiling, the image revealed an announcer explaining the rules of the tournament to the crowd. Silence befell the two-hundred gathered stars as they gazed upwards in anticipation. At last, a large frame in shimmering plate armor carrying a massive sword stepped out onto the dirt of the arena.
Anak had arrived.