The headquarters of the Order of Winter were built from white stone and made to shine with silver adornments on the most important building and the entrance gates.
The throne hall of the Magister of the order echoed this design. Only a red carpet that led toward the throne stood out, along with the red clothing of Magister Melchior.
Surrounded by his advisers, Melchior was sitting sprawled on his cushioned throne seat. He looked youthful, but his jaded gaze betrayed his true age. As a Citrinito-stage magus, Melchior could live up to several hundred years. Only his long hair had already turned gray.
Several advisers have gathered around him, discussing the current situation. They spoke about the attack on the mayor's manor, about how the Day of Freedom was so outrageously insulted by the unknown attackers. Melchior listened with a bored expression until he had had enough.
