“Archmage Raelendra, is the ritual prepared?” Nathariel's voice was clipped and precise as he stepped toward the cleared area. He could feel the wild weaves swirling about them, it put an ache deep in his bones. There was a sense of wrongness in the very air.

“Yes, Chancellor.” The willowy, blonde archmage turned sharply toward the Chancellor, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her robes and bowing precisely. “We await only the proper materials.”

“They will be provided shortly.” The Chancellor didn’t bother saying anything else as he turned and walked back toward the well lit command tent near the center of the camp, well away from the area they had cleared for the ritual.

“The Archmages stand at the ready, your excellence.” The Chancellor’s voice was deep and rich as he prostrated himself before the Emperor.

There was the barest hint of hesitation in the Emperor’s brilliant blue eyes as he waved his hand at his Chancellor. “Rise, rise. We have not the time to waste on ceremony. We trust the -” again there was a slight hesitation, “-volunteers have been delivered.”

“They are being marched to the ritual circle as we speak.”

“Excellent.” The Emperor walked briskly out of the command tent and toward the distant ritual space. As he walked he could begin to feel the oppressive swirl of wild magic grow stronger. “We must make certain that the circle is precisely in the middle of the wild weave.”

He had made no indication that the Chancellor should follow him and yet the man walked two steps behind his Emperor on the left. “Yes, your excellence.”

“We are pleased to hear it.” It was more than a mile from the camp to the ritual circle. They had kept the camp out of the influence of the wild weave for their own protection. As the Emperor approached, so too did the volunteers. They were marching ten abreast in columns of fifty. Their bare feet made little sound even in the dried grasses of the Farthess Reaches. “All conditions of the ritual have been met, we are certain.”

“Yes, your excellence.” The Chancellor’s rich voice was emotionless as he looked at the volunteers.

“Have the Archmages commence the ritual when they have everything coordinated.” The Emperor turned on his heel and walked back toward the command tent in the distance.

The Chancellor stayed behind, watching the mages as they performed the final steps in preparation of the ritual. They had tramped down the long grasses of the savannah, creating a nearly perfect circle. Sand had been spread over the circle to provide the perfect foundation for a ritual weave of this magnitude. He watched in silence for a long while. Eventually, Archmage Raelendra walked over to him. “Did you need something, Chancellor?”

The Chancellor pulled himself up to his full height and took a steadying breath. “His Excellence has informed me that once you have everything prepared and coordinated, you may begin the ritual.”

Raelendra tucked her hands in her sleeves again, bowing deeply at the Chancellor. “His will be done.”

“In all things.” The Chancellor stiffly inclined his head in response to the bow, turned crisply on his heels and walked back toward the command tent.

Raelendra straightened her impressive robes, plucking at the uncomfortable high collar. She took a moment and even the hint of anxiety disappeared from her fair-featured face. The volunteers were being marched into position. Preparation for the largest ritual anyone in living memory had ever attempted was nearly complete.