Free Invoking Darkness by Babylon 5

too, was weakened, though the signs of it were few. The character of their meetings had changed in other ways as well.
    They now forwent the grand illusion of the amphitheater Ing-Radi had once generated. That illusion had simulated the ancient stone structure where Wierden and the original Circle had met, a reminder of their history and responsibility. Perhaps it was best they no longer used it. They had declined so, it no longer seemed appropriate.
    They met at a simple round silver table, only three instead of the five Wierden had dictated, sitting in a half circle with Blaylock at their center. Herazade no longer wore a formal black robe, appearing instead in a sari, her straight black hair hanging free. They were losing their traditions, their discipline, their numbers, day by day.
    Elric feared where this trend might lead them. He had not fought for anything in a long time. But now he must make this one, last fight.
    "We are approaching our traditional time for elections," he said.
    "Over the last hundred years, whenever there has been an opening in the Circle, we have always filled it in December, according to the Earth calendar. Wierden established that the number of the Circle should be five, the number of balance. Last year, at this time, we rightfully postponed elections. We had not settled into our new home sufficiently to undergo any changes. Now we are settled. We have had time. We must not delay further, or the basis of our order may be lost."
    Elric did not believe he would survive another year, or even another month. Last night, as the pounding pain built with each beat of his heart to astonishing, staggering agony, he'd felt certain that he would die. His end would come soon. As for Blaylock, he was not sure.
    Although Elric had never seen Blaylock's energy fail, he had grown gaunter than ever, his black skullcap loose on his head. His skin, scoured of all hair, had a pronounced waxy sheen. His hands had not healed well from the atrocity performed upon them by Tilar. They remained stiffly open, like two bookends on the table before him, the palms covered with thick, yellowish skin. He used them as little as possible. While he and Elric weakened, Herazade's influence grew, which tipped the Circle out of balance.
    She clearly recognized her growing dominance and used it to advance her agenda. One person, though, could not rule the mages. That was too much power.
    Blaylock's words were harsh and certain, as usual.
    "I agree in principle. But in practice what you propose would only weaken the Circle. Of the mages, none are fit to join us. The wisest, the most skilled, have died either in the attempt to bring us here, or in the time since we arrived. While some of the younger mages show promise, they are not nearly ready to take a place at this table. If we opened the Circle to them, they would simply obstruct our wisdom."
    "That argument," Elric said, "has probably been made by some member of the Circle before every election."
    "In this case, however, it is true. Who would you have sit beside us? Miostro? Tzakizak? Circe? None is fit."
    Blaylock was right; any that Elric would have considered for the Circle were either dead or well on their way. They were less than four hundred now, and nearly a third of those very ill. Yet Elric would rather have even a callow initiate like Fed in the Circle than let their power fall to two.
    "They are all we have."
    "I must agree with Blaylock," Herazade said.
    "Among the older mages, I don't believe any has the skill, the wisdom, and the stamina necessary to fulfill the duties of the Circle. Among those younger, I see great promise that, with our guidance and a few years' maturity, should find its fulfillment."
    What she did not realize, apparently, was that they did not have a few years to wait. Perhaps she felt she could govern alone until others were ready. Yet who, once holding supreme power, would share that power with others? Elric said the words he had not wanted to