The heavy oak doors of the Albinos School of Wizard and Witchcraft's council chamber sealed shut with a resonant thud, the ancient runes etched into the wood glowing faintly before fading into silence.
The room itself was a masterpiece of arcane architecture—high vaulted ceilings supported by pillars of midnight marble veined with silver, enchanted to shimmer like starlight.
Floating orbs of cool azure and violet light drifted lazily overhead, casting long, dramatic shadows across the circular obsidian table at the center.
The air carried the faint scent of aged parchment, ozone from lingering spells, and polished wood, creating an atmosphere that felt both timeless and oppressively grand.
The chamber felt detached from the world—cool, formal, and humming with restrained magical power.
Seated around the table were the core members of the council.
