The Blossoming of the Ebon Lotus
Part 1: We Know Wiser
“Through the fertilization of the contradiction between being and not being blooms the Ebon Lotus.”
~Master Zyvox Mythsong
“You have to surrender completely to the flames. Do not bring anything with you into this vision. Surrender to the incineration. Resist it and your very soul will be reduced to ash,” said Master Thrymion Thaumastar. “Await the vision of the final ember, from which the Phoenix arises.”
The last words carried a cloak of finality, with several Sin’dorei wizards slowly nodding heads, others sitting quietly. A pot of tea was passed around the large round table around which the group sat. The room was adorned with one-of-a-kind ornaments and ceremonial weapons smoldering with centuries of enchantments perfected. Enchanted flames, incenses, and coal-filled braziers filled the room with a smoky solemnity. The room of Magisters and wizards busied themselves with plating delicacies and refreshments, while others sat still, save for their shadows in the cast of flickering lights.
Klyvaster Windpyre stood up amidst the shuffling silence. He caught the eyes of the Sin’Dorei surrounding the room, drawing attention to the gravity of the moment. “The Phoenix Lotus is burnt out,” he said, catching the Grandmaster’s eyes with that last word. “This has all devolved into a philosophical study group. The Phoenix Lotus used to be a crucible for Silvermoon’s finest magical minds. Now it’s just a tea party for complacent academics and self-congratulatory idlers.”
Master Thaumastar gently put his hands together and listened. About half the elves seated stood up abruptly.
Klyvaster continued, “For those who want to make real change for our kingdom, Quel’Thalas. Who would do, rather than dither. Follow me. There’s a better way to go about all this.” Several immediately stood up and followed. Some were in on this announcement, others were persuaded.
Zyvox Mythsong stood up, “Klyvaster, how will we make ourselves the wiser, dividing ourselves with this blade of animosity?”
“Blade of animosity?” Klyvaster chuckled, his arrogance holding firm against confrontation. “Just excising the fat, so to speak.”
Zyvox countered, “These are the philosophies that have advanced our magic in unthinkable ways across generations of Quel’Dorei. These are the arts that made the Amani fear us. The very shadow of our ideas empowered humanity into its magical awakening. These are the foundational stones of our ancestors upon which all of us here stand.”
Klyvaster said, “Stand, sit, lay down. Whatever. Drink more and more tea amongst yourselves. We are going to move forward while our elders have poetry readings. We know wiser.” His voice lowered to a whisper, “or do you?”
Zyvox glared at Klyvaster. Klyvaster glared at Zyvox. Master Thaumastar sipped his tea, which he had been attending to throughout.
Klyvaster Windpyre and his followers left the room, gathering the ceremonial relics of their forebears.
Master Thaumastar looked around the room. Just Zyvox, two particularly old wizards who may or may not have been asleep, and himself remained.
“And just like the phoenix,” Master Thaumastar said calmly, “we shall re-emerge from the embers. Such is the nature of our blossom.”
The three eldest nodded and sipped their tea.
Zyvox sat down and said, “They disgrace themselves. Our proud families have sat together for generations exploring these ideas. The profundity is simply lost upon them. Master, they shame themselves with their disgrace to you.”
“We are not the only holders of our peoples’ secrets. We may very well be elevated by their revelations, their discoveries,” Master Thaumastar said.
“Well, he was quite dramatic, wasn’t he? Making a show of it all and inflicting a wound to justify his departure,” Zyvox huffed.
Master Thaumastar examined his person with a touch of theatrics, “I’m not wounded, am I?” The other two elves softly chuckled. “The art of the Phoenix Lotus will live on. It lives on in us, our sons. Their children too, one day. Even if all of us were to be destroyed, our force will rise to avenge and survive us. That has proven true for our kind over and over again.”
Zyvox poured himself some tea. His eyes shut. The remaining elves meditated in silence until sundown.