The noble, academic concern for the safety of the Capital suddenly shifted into a desperate, shifty, incredibly selfish gleam in their eyes.
"Yes," Elder Vane coughed awkwardly, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. "To... to protect the city. And to nurture a brilliant mind."
"Indeed," Sylas nodded a little too quickly, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. "For the good of the magical arts. It is our duty as educators."
It was a blatant, transparent, universally understood lie.
The Elder Mages of the Aethelgard Tower didn't give a single flying spark about the safety of the Imperial Capital.
They didn't care about nurturing a brilliant mind.
They wanted to scout this new, terrifying powerhouse for one specific, personal reason.
They needed a savior.
They needed someone, anyone, who was powerful, terrifying, and capable enough to distract, occupy, or otherwise neutralize the unmitigated nightmare that currently resided within their own walls.
