In the Shadows of the Consilium

He stared at the empty spot in his private cache. His journal was gone. This was the fourth time this semester that his study material had disappeared. The first time had seemed random, the second time suspicious; the third time had established a pattern. This time he had been ready; the changes he had made to his journal would leave their traces, and the best thing was, the thief wouldn't even notice. It was a stroke of genius, and the first time he had been able to apply this newfound knowledge. All he had to do now was wait.

He decided to finish an essay he still needed to write for his coursework. By the time he finished, it was already dark outside. His roommate returned late, as usual.

"Still up late?" he asked.

"Yes, homework, you know how it is."

"I feel your pain," his roommate answered, and took a look out the window of their room. "Beautiful night, isn't it? The stars can be so revealing."

He did not care much for the night sky, but the last part caught his attention.

"Indeed," he responded. "That reminds me, I still need to do my astronomy homework."

"I remember doing that last year," his roommate answered. "One of the things that was a bit more fun than all those essays and lectures."

"Yeah, looking at the stars is a bit more relaxing," he said, throwing his outdoor robe over his shoulders and grabbing a notebook and writing material. As he went out of the room, he asked, seemingly casually, "Oh, by the way, where were you?"

"I just came from a meeting of the Consilium Concordia, can you believe I got accepted?"

"Great job!" he congratulated his roommate. "Anyway, I've got to get going, bye."

"All right, see you!"

He headed out to the Schola Astronomiae, which housed the astronomy faculty and the observatory. He tried to seem cool on the outside, but his mind was racing. He should have known that the thief must have been someone close to him.

"The stars can be so revealing."

It could be coincidence, but more likely it was the result of the instructions he had embedded into his journal for the thief to "reveal himself" through his rhetoric. He had expected the changes to be more sophisticated, but then his roommate wasn't necessarily renowned for his intellect. There had been more, though; his roommate had talked about "stars," and instead of giving away a location where the journal might be hidden, he had mentioned the Consilium Concordia, the organization that united all houses at the Lyceum, each with their own rich history and traditions.

Was this some kind of invitation? Was it possible that the journal had fallen into the hands of people with the knowledge he was after? If it was, the Schola Astronomiae was the place where he would most likely find the next clue, and he really did have to do some astronomy work, even though it wasn't urgent.

He found the entrance to the observatory locked. Luckily, the warden's office wasn't far, and should still be occupied at this hour. As he walked through a dark corridor in the ancient building, he noticed that one of the old oak doors that led to the various study rooms and offices was slightly ajar, dim light coming from the inside.

Was someone still studying at this time? People often stayed late in the library, mostly before exams and in the larger libraries, but the observatory had been locked, which suggested there were no other students doing astronomy work tonight.

He almost walked by, but sheer curiosity compelled him to take a look.

As soon as he touched the door, a booming "Come in!" echoed at him from inside the room.

He recoiled, and his heart started pounding.

"What was this? Was it related to his journal, or just a coincidence? No, it had to be related; there was no one else here."

He gathered his courage and, going against everything his instincts told him, stepped in.

The room contained three tables arranged in a half-circle facing a single chair. It was dark, except for a single light illuminating the chair from behind the tables. At each table sat a tall, hooded figure, but he couldn't make out their faces.

"Seat yourself!" the same harsh voice that had beckoned him to enter commanded.

Hesitantly, he seated himself. The setup made him feel uncomfortable; it looked almost like an interrogation, and the light shone directly into his face, making it impossible to get a detailed look at the others. He squinted before composing himself. He did not know these people, but they did not seem to want to harm him, and this was his best shot of finding out more about them.

"Mr. Aladrian," the person in the middle began. His voice was calming, deep, and resonated with authority. "You have been observed. We have taken notice of your talent and intelligence. Your skills are remarkable, especially for a First-year student."

So they did know him. He could hear a quill scratching on parchment — was this meeting being protocolled? What was this?

"Who are you?" he finally asked.

"We, Mr. Aladrian, are the Ethics Curatorium of the Consilium Concordia."

His heart dropped. So this had been a trap. He moved to get up, but he was immediately shut down.

"Remain seated, or we will have to force cooperation," the harsh voice commanded again, the threat clearly audible.

He complied and sank back into the seat. They were three to one against him; resistance was likely futile.

"I trust you know why you are here today and what has led you to us, Mr. Aladrian?" the deep voice asked him.

He started sweating; he had to keep his cool now. How much did they know? How much could he reveal?

Careful not to stumble over his words, he answered, "I believe my research has attracted attention."

The figure to his left let out a soft chuckle.

"You could say that." It was the voice of a young woman.

"You've progressed quickly in the last few months. It was a bold move to incorporate the trace into your journal, so that the thief would betray himself. Luckily, this also presented us with the opportunity to lure you to us."

So they knew everything. Integrating the trace into his journal had taken him weeks, and they had deciphered it within hours. He could feel himself deflate. He had been outmatched.

"Your work, while crude, exceeds that of any First-year student we have ever seen," the deep voice continued. "Not to mention that you were acting alone."

What were they doing? Were they praising him?

"Can we just get on with my punishment?" he asked. The sooner this nightmare was over, the better.

"Oh, we are not here to punish you, Mr. Aladrian," the deep male voice answered. "Quite the opposite. Let me ask you a question: What do you know about the history of the Consilium Concordia?"

What was this now? Were they playing mind games with him?

He dug in his memory. The official history of the Lyceum wasn't part of his curriculum, but he had read some of it as part of his personal study.

"It was formed when the houses banded together to unite their forces," he answered.

"But why did they band together?" the deep voice pressed.

"The houses gained political power by acting as a united front and pooling their resources," he offered.

"You are describing the outcome, not the reason. You know the houses with their ancient pride; why would they willingly surrender their autonomy?"

He paused, searching frantically for an answer. This hadn't been part of any history book he had read, he was sure of it.

Finally, an answer began to form in his mind.

"Because they didn't. They were forced to."

This was the only logical explanation, but the 'why' still eluded him.

"Your analysis is correct, the Consilium Concordia was formed because the houses faced extinction. Centuries ago, certain students delved into ancient dark powers that were too potent, too vast for their grasp, and catastrophe unfolded. The same powers you are trying to unravel and that led us to you. As a result, the heads of the Lyceum, in their terror and ignorance, wished to dismantle all houses in their entirety, to purge this ancient seat of learning of its perceived corruption. But the brightest of those who had delved into the forbidden knowledge — those who had seen its true potential beyond the chaos — proposed this alliance. They promised the administration enforcement of 'ethical behavior' among all houses, thus appeasing the university's more conventional masters and saving the ancient societies from dismemberment. This was the birth of the Consilium Concordia, with the Ethics Curatorium at its core. Since then, the Ethics Curatorium has outwardly projected the appearance of providing security and ensuring ethical behavior, while inwardly we have used the authority granted to us to identify the most promising students to introduce into our ranks and delve deeper into that very knowledge without arousing suspicion."

The revelation swept over him like a cold, exhilarating wave.

"And have you learned to master it?" he asked, his words resonating with hungry intensity.

"We know more about it than anyone else at the Lyceum, or indeed, in the known world," the deep voice answered. "But one can always go deeper. Only the brightest have the ability to even grasp where we are going; fewer still have the courage to tread this path."

He paused, letting the weight of the statement hang in the air for a moment.

"We have assessed your abilities to be up to our standards, so this is our final question for you," the robed figure continued. "Do you want to join our ranks? To delve deeper than anyone has ever gone before, master knowledge darker and more powerful than you will be able to learn anywhere else? To keep the secrets at the core of this institution?"

"But be warned," the female voice added, a sharp tone in her voice, "this is the last time you can turn around. We have the means to make you forget, to make it as if this meeting never happened and allow you to live your regular life. If you choose to join us, know that we demand absolute loyalty and dedication to our cause and mistakes are not tolerated."

"There are no second chances in the Ethics Curatorium," the third, harsh voice that had been quiet for most of the time, added.

He stared into the blinding light, no longer blinded by its intensity. He no longer saw three indistinct figures, but three minds, honed by centuries of unseen authority, custodians of raw power. And in that moment, he saw himself among them, and then, beyond them.

A slow, deliberate smile touched his lips, a shadow mirroring the one on the robed figure's face.

"Yes," he said, his voice steady, carrying a conviction that surprised even himself. "I do."