Chapter 265: conference
Albus inclined his head slightly, the picture of geniality. "Very well, I shall begin. I am Albus Dumbledore, here as a representative of the International Confederation of Wizards and the broader magical community. My hope is that we may find a path forward that prevents further bloodshed."
Beside him, Henderson straightened. "Henderson, acting liaison between magical governments and wartime strategy. My role here is to ensure that these discussions remain practical." His tone was even, though his sharp gaze flickered briefly to the demon across the table.
The third human representative, a wiry man with an ink-stained hand, spoke next. "Edgar Wainwright, diplomat and legal scholar. I specialize in intergovernmental negotiations." His voice was crisp, methodical, as if he were already cataloging the details of this meeting in his mind.
The woman in green, her eyes distant as if seeing beyond the present moment, inclined her head. "Isolde Byrne. Seer and historical consultant." Her voice was quiet but carried an unsettling certainty. "I am here to record the negotiations today for our historical records."
The war wizard was last. His posture remained stiff, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "Marcus Flint, combat specialist." His voice was flat, his words clipped. "I'm here to ensure that whatever agreement is reached doesn't put our people at risk."
A beat of silence followed before the angel on the opposing side dipped her chin in acknowledgment. "I am Seraphiel, emissary of the Host." Her voice carried an innate authority, smooth and unwavering. "I speak on behalf of my kind, who seek refuge and accord, not war."
The demon beside her chuckled softly, his voice deep and rich. "Azrathos. A simple name for a simple role—I ensure that our interests are not ignored in these talks." His sharp teeth flashed in something that might have been a smile but carried no warmth.
Loki, still shifting like an uncertain mirage, gave an exaggerated sigh. "You already know me. Loki, god of mischief, chaos, and—today, it seems—diplomacy. A shame, really, but even chaos must have its moments of order."
The silver-skinned figure beside him finally moved, their elongated fingers tapping the table lightly. "I am Varziel. Weaver of fate, observer of shifting tides." Their voice was whisper-soft, but there was something unsettling about it, as though their words carried a weight not yet felt.
The final member, the hooded figure, remained still for a moment before speaking, their voice an echoing rasp. "I am Kael'thas. Scribe and keeper of the old accords. It is my duty to ensure that whatever is spoken here is recorded… and upheld." Their fingers, tipped in blackened gold, rested atop an ancient-looking tome, its cover shifting as though alive.
A tense silence settled over the table as both sides processed the introductions. Albus smiled, his expression open, his mind already working through the puzzle before him. Every name, every title, every subtle choice of words—each was a thread in the larger tapestry of this conflict.
"Well," Loki drawled, breaking the quiet. "Now that we all know who's who… shall we begin?"
Albus gave a small nod, eyes twinkling. "Yes. Let us begin."
Seraphiel smiled thinly, "As you all know we desire peace, it might seem strange to see us now as you have most likely never even heard of our respective races. The truth is there are many realms in this universe and we all hail from different realms. Earth as you call it is the mortal realm, we all used to be able to move freely between realms." she looked saddened
"Yes, freely. We had homes here, families even. That was until the day two individuals horribly vile and cruel created a ritual to isolate the mortal realm from our races. Without the equilibrium of all of our realms existing as bridges to each other things have turned dire. Magic is begging to dry up and shrivel leaving our lands barren and our peoples dying, you see we are different than you humans. Our sustenance and life come from magic with it leaving we are all going to die." tears fell from her eyes as she told them the situation of her homeland
The demon nodded, "We desire peace above all else like we had in the past." he stated placing his hands on the table in front of him
Marcus Flint narrowed his eyes, "But, if these negotiations don't succeed you will attack with your full force is it?" he barely held back his scoff
Loki smiled spreading his hands as if saying 'What else can we do?', "We are just trying to save our people you must understand."
Albus nodded, "What is it you want besides peace?" he asked
Varziel nodded, "Yes, we desire for you to help us break the walls that confine us in our dying homes." he spoke softly as a whisp his low hollow tone was unsettling to most
Edgar frowned, "We are not opposed to peace but, is the only thing you are offering is not starting a war? We must help you become settled, break a magical barrier, and most likely more?"
Azrathos chortled, "Of course not, you would be surprised how advanced our magic is. Our knowledge would be yours, think of the possibilities at your fingertips. Just being able to travel to our realms would further your research."
Marcus looked unsettled at the prospect of a magical advanced army behind a thin veil. Threatening war if no peace was made.
Albus nodded, "I see, so the deal on the table is. Us helping you break the veil and then joining our society to co-exist with each other. Which would in turn create a golden age of wizardry or so you claim."
"Exactly!" beamed Loki, "Well said my friend well said."
Henderson who was silent up until now frowned, "You must understand, the ecosystem we have is delicate. Breaking apart anyones land to give to you would create a problem."
A map appeared over the table, "Well then, I think we should really begin the negotiations." Loki cracked a grin
***
After the delegates left to report back Azrathos grunted, "They are too resistant." he muttered
"I agree, I was trying to peak into their futures but things kept going awry I think an event soon will determine the outcome and it keeps changing." Varziel replied concern etched into his hooded visage
"Well then." Seraphiel began, "I think we just need to turn up the pressure then, do we have everything ready for a world-scale broadcast?" she asked a grin forming on her lips
Loki bounced happily to his feet, "Yes, the magic in this realm is plentiful we can do it whenever the ritual is already prepared."
Varziel closed his eyes before taking his hood off, "The important event I'm seeing it now. It took me a while to sift through the visions. They have a conference, so let's crash it."
***
The ICW Conference – Nepal
The round chamber of the International Confederation of Wizards echoed with the low murmur of voices as representatives from magical nations across the world took their seats. The walls of the grand hall were adorned with intricate carvings depicting centuries of magical diplomacy, and above them, a domed ceiling shimmered with enchanted constellations that slowly shifted with the passage of time.
At the very center of the chamber, seated on a raised circular platform, was Tenzin of Clan Ba, the Head of the ICW. Draped in deep crimson robes embroidered with golden sigils of his lineage, he sat cross-legged, exuding an aura of quiet strength. Before him, a great stone podium was inlaid with ancient runes, amplifying his voice across the hall when he finally chose to speak.
The seats surrounding him were filled with leaders, ministers, and envoys from every magical nation—some dressed in formal robes, others in battle-worn attire, reflecting the turbulence of the times. The tension in the room was palpable, and even the most composed diplomats bore expressions of concern. The events of the past weeks had shattered any illusion of stability.
Tenzin's gaze swept the chamber, his dark eyes unreadable, before he finally spoke.
"Brothers and sisters of magic, we gather here in a time of great upheaval." His voice was steady, yet it carried the weight of the crisis they faced. "For centuries, we have governed the magical world with order, balancing the needs of our people with the secrecy that has protected us. But now, a force unlike any we have seen before has arrived on our soil—angels, demons, and gods who walk among us, who have struck at the heart of our communities. And now, they seek negotiation."
Murmurs erupted across the room, some hushed, some indignant. A delegate from France, Minister Lavoisier, leaned forward. "Negotiation? Are we to entertain the demands of beings that have already attacked our kind?"
A gruff voice followed, belonging to the Russian representative, Gregorovich Petrov. "We should be preparing for war, not wasting time with diplomacy. If they can bleed, they can die."
Others, however, took a different stance. A representative from the Egyptian magical council, Amina el-Sayed, raised a brow. "And if they do not bleed as we do? If war is not winnable? Then we throw away lives needlessly, when another path may exist."
Tenzin raised a hand, and silence fell once more. "I do not stand here to dictate our course of action. That is for this council to decide. But I will tell you this—ignoring this crisis will not make it disappear. We must act, and we must act together."
He turned his gaze toward a particular section of the chamber. "A delegation has already been sent to engage with these beings they have arrived back just yesterday, and one of them will soon brief you all on the situation thus far. We will not walk into darkness blindly. But we must also be prepared for what follows, be it peace or war."
A woman from the North American delegation, her silver-streaked hair tied back tightly, spoke up. "And if war is upon us, do we have the means to fight it? Our spells were crafted against wizards, our wards designed to keep out mundane threats. But against gods? Against beings who bend reality as easily as we breathe?"
Another silence settled, heavier than before. Even the most hardened war leaders could not deny the uncertainty they faced.
Tenzin let the quiet linger before he spoke again. "That is why we are here, to determine the course of our survival. We must decide, as one world, how we move forward."
He clasped his hands before him. "So, let us begin."
And with those words Henderson stood.
***
A/N: The next chapter is hype lmao. Remember these people do not really know what they are dealing with and are taking a lot at face value