She shook her head and waved the offer away, swallowing hard as the foreign magic released its grip on her. "No, I'm all right. I was just caught off-guard, although I should have realised there would be a reaction."

He grunted indecipherably, waiting for her to pull herself together before continuing. "I know this is slightly unorthodox," he said, loud enough for his words to carry to everyone else, "but in the spirit of cooperation I felt it's only appropriate to have you standing in a place of honour beside me."

She simply nodded, still uneasy after her brush with the strong energy underneath the room. At this, Donyvan clapped his hands to attract the attention of everyone else in the hall. "Now then, gentlemen: we are gathered here at this moment to perform the sacred duty bestowed upon us as stewards of fair Koton. Today, as we did five cycles ago and five cycles before that, we will empower an individual —" he glanced disdainfully at the child in the centre of the platform, " —with the authority of our God to protect our people." From within his fine robes he produced a small crystal sphere, its surface reflecting the overhead lighting with scattering pinpoints of blue colour. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, lips moving in a silent prayer.

Never having participated in such a ceremony before, Tela was unsure of what she should do. She glanced at the other men present — unfortunately they seemed just as lost as she was.

Donyvan gave the crystal sphere a squeeze and looked up, though this time when he spoke his voice seemed as if it was coming from far away. His eyes were flushed with bluish energy, pupils dilated significantly. "Graceful Aenstara, arbiter of creation, flood your supplicant disciple with your power so that we may breach the wards below and ensure the safety of Koton for another cycle." She drew back from him apprehensively, skin tingling from the unmistakeable triggering of magic; it made sense, on reflection: the Archon's Grace had been warded by a spellweaver to protect the prone Archon from any threats — whether originating from the Chaos or something more domestic. Something similarly powerful would need to be employed in order to counteract that shielding, but she was puzzled at what the Magisterium had in their arsenal that would perform that function. Her robe's hem brushed against the ground, reacting to an ethereal breeze whipping about the room.