Role

Chapter 1

The Matron Mother was not amused.
"You vex me, child. It has been centuries since we have had a student as adept
as you. You have far exceeded even some of our older practitioners, let alone
the other students. And with your pedigree - your grandmother is one of my
handmaidens, by the Spider! - you should be poised to vie for my seat one day!
But you refuse to see reason, and no matter how proficient you may be, no
matter your family name, there are lines we do not cross. Individual power
is demanded, but must always be in aid of Teth Azaleth, or at the very least
not in direct opposition, not with the intent of destroying it. And that is
what you plan!! Czernish!! Come to your senses, child!!"

Czernish, reclining in a plush, very comfortable chair in the Matron Mother's
private offices where others might be on the edge of the seat, sighs.
Internally, of course. No need pushing the old hag more than necessary. Not
yet. In time, Czernish will be here and stand over corpses. As with most of
Thera, Teth Azaleth will be trampled under the power of the worlds beyond the
portal. From the first night she woke with her vision, she knew it to be more
than a dream. Glimpses, brief glances, but enough. Different from all other
dreams or nightmares. Entirely different. In hindsight, she can admit her
mistake. She should not have told anyone. She is deeply proud of herself
and her abilities, but too smart to ignore errors. To ignore and not learn.
Mage students are not friends. Most of her people don't have what others call
friends at all. Allies, perhaps, for particular purposes. Acquaintances to
pass the time. But friends? Not likely. Still, she berates herself for the
moment of weakness when she told one of the other girls of her dreams.

Internally, of course. None of her thinking is reflected in even the tiniest
way on her face. Schooling features and outward demeanors is hammered into
dark-elves practically from day one. To the Matron Mother, Czernish shows
an intent, and perhaps modestly contrite face. She feels no contrition at all,
of course, but she is not quite ready to leave the city and needs to buy a
bit of time. She will say the right words, make the right "decisions" and
blame youthful indiscretion.