The sun bathed the world in a bright spring glow. Ulic closed his eyes and let its warmth caress his face. He felt the low roar of a thousand voices ahead of him and for a moment, he let the sound wash over and through him. He was joyful. It was the type of happiness that brought someone to the point of serenity; his life’s purpose had been achieved.

  Merci yanked on his robe. “Are we going in, sleepyhead, or are you taking a nap?” He still wore his robes regularly, particularly for more formal events. Some of the younger guild members thought robes were old-fashioned but he believed them to be the only true wizard’s attire. Fashion aside, robes were obviously the most comfortable option, by far. Merci wore hers too, although he suspected it was mostly for his sake.

  “How dare you address me so, witch.” Ulic smirked and opened his eyes. Merci smiled back at him. He wrapped an arm around her. “Let’s go.”

  They walked past the grand columns and through the enormous doors. Before them spread the great hall of the Golden Dome. Some were calling it Varden’s Dome, which was fitting considering the architect. Ulic just called it The Guild. It was the physical manifestation of the community of magic.

  Thousands filled the hall in front of him. He’d never seen so many guild members together. He didn’t think it had ever happened. This was the first Gathering. He knew there were some who hadn’t made it, or couldn’t, but they were few. He’d only known of one personally who had declined the event. Most guild members throughout the continent of Aren had accepted eagerly. Many intended to stay. He also noted with satisfaction that a good number of mages in attendance were wearing proper robes.

  The hall itself was a masterpiece. It was a work of art, a miracle of engineering and magic and beauty that only the greatest architects and mages together could have achieved. Great windows ensured natural light always filled the room. Massive internal columns and arches lined the walls. On each flat space of the walls was a painting, telling a story of some witch or wizard’s deeds. He recognized Jak and the Dancing Dragon from the work nearest him. Numerous marble statues, Guild members of history, stood prominently on both sides. To Ulic they looked heroic, noble, and proud, as they should be.

  The domed ceiling was a collection of enormous gold-flecked shards. The smallest shards were greater than ten yards across. They were pieced together like a puzzle contained within the arched frame of a nonagon. Light bounced off them, further brightening the hall. Two adolescent dragons glided lazily below the dome, dipping occasionally before flapping back up.

  Ulic Keralyn appreciated it. He was in awe. He had visited to see the progress regularly of course, but in recent months he had restrained himself. He had wanted to see the completed work at the same time as everyone else. Ulic had taken responsibility for managing the financing and the budget early on. As the project developed he took on the coordination of everything from ensuring delivery of materials to training, transportation, and accommodation for the builders.

  Merci watched her husband’s awestruck face, “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

  “I only have eyes for you, dearest. This place is breathtaking though.” Ulic smiled contentedly, scanning every inch of the massive room.

  “It is.”

  He led them through the crowd to the dias in the partition of Cairn. The room was split into nine sections representing the nine kingdoms of Aren. Each partition contained areas designated for each major lordship territory within that kingdom. The organization made finding one’s ‘home’ and countrymen marginally easier.

  Ulic and Merci approached a towering wizard and petite witch leaning out over the dias railing. “Who let you two in here?” Ulic said.

  The two spun around. The witch launched herself at him and threw her arms around Ulic’s laughing frame. “Brother!” Cari peeled herself off of him and reached up to scratch his beard. “Lot more gray than I remember.”

  The huge wizard stepped forward and wrapped Ulic, Cari, and Merci into a tight embrace.

  “I see you brought your pets as well.” said Merci. They all lifted their eyes to the two circling dragons. The female, Deila, was the color of dark earth. She was slightly smaller than her brother who had bright scales of a light forest green. Deila arced upwards and pounced on her gliding brother before he rolled away with a playful screech.

  “Deila and Hamarr are harmless. They’re more like bunnies than dragons,” said Armen, “I’ll bring them outside before it begins, of course.”

  Cari nodded in agreement then changed the subject, “This place is really incredible, Ulic.”

  “Thank you. It was an extraordinary undertaking but all for the glory of the Guild.”

  A short time later, a deep and pleasant gong rolled through the open hall, indicating it was time for the Gathering to commence.

  At the sound of the gong, the base of each of the walls moved outwards towards the center of the hall in levels. Each level was suddenly filled with rows of ornate and cushioned chairs. There were enough for all in attendance. Guild members filed into their seats.

  Ulic’s seat was in the center of the hall. It was part of the circle comprised of the leaders of the Guild. There was one from each kingdom.

  Ulic looked across at Merci. He would have preferred to be sitting with her, but he was one of the Nine. He imagined he should propose an edit to the rules to allow spouses of the Nine to sit together. Ulic laughed silently at himself, realizing that his daydreaming had caused him to miss the welcoming announcements.

  At the sound of his name, Ulic turned his attention back to the speaker, Arby Berg of Daedelund.

  “…without his unyielding, and frankly annoying pursuit of this undertaking, we wouldn’t be here today.” Soft laughter flowed around the hall.

  “For his efforts, for Varden’s, and for every hand, voice, and purse that supported this, we are thankful, and we hope we have done your vision justice. Because of you, the Guild has a home. A haven and a citadel. A place for learning, where we can educate witches and wizards young and old. A storehouse of our combined knowledge. A central hub for the network of the Guild of Magic. A destination and a home and a symbol of our strength and achievements. Like Bransson’s Fire above us, burning in the great torch at the crown of the dome, this place will be a beacon of hope and guidance for all of Aren, and for the world, forever.” Applause rang out across the stadium.

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  In the following moment, an ear-wrenching crack surged through the hall. The violence of the sound felt like a physical strike. The crowd panicked at the sound, looking around wide-eyed for the source.

  Ulic covered his ears with his hands. He summoned instinctively and his magic obeyed. The initial confusion and fear at the forefront of his mind was cleansed. Magic filled him, like liquid light, ready to be unleashed. Confidence came with it. He felt the familiar certainty that he could not ever be harmed or defeated. He felt certainty that he could manage whatever threat or danger may have arrived.

  He looked at Merci. Her eyes met his. She wore a look of confusion but not fear. She was massaging her ears.

  His eyes scanned the room, looking for the disturbance. As he did, sounds of fear and surprise swept through the hall. Eyes and hands of guild members shot upwards. He followed them.

  Directly above Ulic, a massive shard from the domed ceiling had wrenched itself free. It began to fall straight towards him and the eight other guild leaders. In the throes of his magic, the shard’s audacity caused him no panic. His rational mind kept him grounded and his first thoughts were on keeping Merci safe.

  Ulic raised his hands alongside the other guild members and reached out with his power. He felt the air in the room. He felt the shard down to its smallest elements. He felt how those elements of the shard moved together, and how they moved through the air. He felt each particle floating in space. He felt the energy of it all.

  With his magic, the particles and the energy became his. They bowed to his power as if he was their king and they were his subjects. The energy and matter were his to control.

  His hands were raised but they were not the conduit of his power. His hands were simply a guide for his will. His mind, his will, and his magic coalesced. He created a cushion of air below the great shard, intending to stop its downward momentum.

  With so many mages doing the same, the weight of the shard being held was nothing. It was lighter than dust.

  Then another shard cracked and broke free.

  Then another.

  Harsh, grating, and wrenching sounds filled the hall. Shards broke off one after the other, then in batches, then all at once, until all that remained of the great dome were the nine naked arches of the nonagon.

  He reached out with his magic and caught them as they fell, lashing as many as he could with cushions of air. The weight of the initial shard grew heavier every moment as witches and wizards spread their power to stop the giant shards of ceiling from falling on them. Armen’s dragons screeched as they flew between the debris and away from the chaos.

  He looked back at Merci. Her hands were up and she stole a glance back at him. Ulic ran towards her, his magic raging inside him as he continued holding the shards.

  How could this have happened? He hoped he was dreaming. He hoped none of this was real. A trickle of fear snaked into his mind as he imagined the great shards falling on the Gathering. He imagined shards crushing countless mages, Merci among them.

  As he ran, his eyes bounced between Merci and scanning the empty ceiling and shards, hoping for an answer. He decided it didn’t matter at that moment. He wiped all fear and uncertainty and doubt from his mind. He was a wizard in the full might of his power. He didn’t know how many guild members helped him but he drove forward. At his direction shards began to move towards the far side of the hall, away from where the bulk of the witches and wizards congregated. The movement was slow but confident. He would stop this. He almost laughed within the depths of his strength and power. He would save them all.

  He was reassured with every inch he was able to shift until suddenly the floor fell out from under his feet. The sheets of stone that had been the floor swung away from his feet as if on a hinge, dropping everything and everyone previously standing.

  He saw Merci drop and she screamed his name. He screamed hers in return as he plunged downward. As he fell, his focus frayed. He felt, rather than saw, the heavy shards begin to push through his cushions of air. He lost control of his magic and shards continued their descent towards the falling guild members.

  He was swallowed by the pit. He frantically tried to orient himself as he fell through space and in the next instant, he slammed into the floor below. He found himself wedged between two spikes, one half as tall as a man, the other twice as large. His body was partially submerged in a slick oily substance. Chaos surrounded him. Screams and cries of guild members filled the air.

  Ulic knew he had seconds before the falling shards crushed him and the fallen guild members. He prayed there were mages still supporting the collapsing building. He tried to push himself up and away from the spikes. His right arm didn’t work. His ribs were crushed. He tried to call out to Merci but he’d lost his breath and couldn’t so much as whisper.

  Rage and fear and desperation flooded through him as he summoned. He blasted the spikes apart with his magic and fell against the wet floor. He forced himself to work through the blaze of pain in his body as he pushed himself to his knees with his left arm.

  He was a guild member. He was a wizard. He was one of the Nine. He would stop the falling shards, and he would save his wife.

  Power filled him and he used it. Energy surged all around him and he took control of it. He reached out with his left hand. One by one, shards slowed to a stop, suspended above them, moments from impact. Some had slipped through his web and crashed down. His anger and pain drove him. Ulic knew he was running out of strength, and he wouldn’t be able to hold all the remaining shards suspended for long.

  “Merci!” His breath had returned and he screamed her name. He saw bodies of fallen guild members all around him. They were scattered between countless spikes like the ones he’d fallen into. Some of the bodies reached for him or tried to rise or cried out, others were silent and unmoving.

  “Ulic!” Her voice cut through the cacophony. Her strained cry gave him strength and pulled him towards her. He stumbled between spikes and over guild members until he collapsed to his knees next to her, his magic still straining to hold the remaining shards of ceiling. He pulled her into his lap, desperate for her. She was breathing heavily.

  Movement above him drew his eyes. The certainty that this had all been by design settled in on him. The likelihood of his own death lay over his shoulders like a blanket. None would survive this. No one would be allowed to survive.

  The gigantic lodestone that held Bransson’s Fire detached, almost mechanically, from the arches of the nonagon dome. The fire fell with it. As the great lodestone tipped, flaming branches and embers and red-hot coals poured out of the torch, into the air and towards where they lay.

  Ulic released the shards. He couldn’t save them all. Only one person mattered now. His exhausted body and spirit begged him not to continue but he fought through it. He poured the rest of his power into the air around them. A protective dome shimmered as shards crashed into the floor and pounded the shield. He felt Merci’s magic join his as she reinforced the protective dome he’d created.

  The burning coals touched down, reaching the oily slick liquid covering the floor. Fire bloomed outward, racing across the open cavern and engulfing the bodies of the fallen guild members. Any who weren’t already dead, spiked, or crushed by ceiling shards were burned alive.

  In the span of a moment, his dream, the home for all the guild members, had become their fiery tomb. The miracle of engineering had become an inexplicable catastrophe.

  Ulic’s strength was gone. Never before had he used so much magic. He felt pain and exhaustion like he’d never experienced. He didn’t know if the shield still held or if Merci still held it. He squeezed her hand as tightly as he could, and consciousness left him.

  “Merci.”