At that moment, in a room at the top of one of the high towers, thousands of meters in the air, dozens of old men clad in the uniform blue robes of the Spiritual Mystery School sat quietly at a round table.
"Baptiste, how much longer?"
One of the old Wizards—this one with a full head of white hair and wearing sunglasses—looked to his left. His eyes were bright as he asked calmly, "Does the Elemental Research Institute really take this long even for a simple verification experiment?"
"My apologies, Chief Ragnar. I'll go and inquire again."
"There's no need!"
The old Wizard—no, he was Ragnar Yasmani Blackmore, the Chief of the Spiritual Mystery School.
He swept his gaze over the other Wizards at the table and continued in a cold tone, "All this time, I haven't involved myself in the school's research institutes. I've rarely monitored your progress, nor your mastery of elemental knowledge or the art of divination."
"But it's clear now that this was my negligence, my mistake!"
