The exorcist snapped the sel'dor around Ellysetta's wrists. Pain drove her to her knees.

"The Mages no doubt still remember how an alliance of Fey and Celierians once defeated them," Rain continued in the lull of silence, "and they will not want to make the same mistake twice. Why do you think they sent their ambassador to you with his offer?" He cast a long, sober glance around the chamber. "If they can convince you, our allies, that Fey magic and Fey might, which have always been used for good, are somehow more evil and threatening than the Eld; if they can convince you to accept their lies and false friendship and throw open your borders, you will soon find yourselves worshiping Seledorn and surrendering the souls of your children to the service of the Mages. They won't have to raze a single village to conquer you.”

"Ridiculous fear mongering," Sebourne sneered. "Fabrications void of any hope of reliable proof. You lied about Gaelen vel Serranis. You lied about the murders in the north. You're lying about this as well. Your motive is obvious. Celieria has grown independent in your absence. We've become powerful in our own right. Your baseless claims and scare tactics are part of a pathetically transparent scheme to keep Celieria subservient to Fey power.”

Teleos surged to his feet. "You fool!" he cried. "Have you not listened to a word he's said? We are in danger! The Fey do not lie! The enemy is at the gate, sharpening his blades!”

"The enemy," Sebourne replied sharply, pointing a finger at Rain, "is right there! This Tairen Soul has already shown himself willing to break Celierian treaties, manipulate Celierian minds, and murder his allies.”

"Here, here, Sebourne," Morvel applauded. "Celierian won't cower in fear from Fey tales and bogey stories.”

Rain stared in disbelief at the men leading the opposition. Had they forgotten so much? Had the last few centuries of peace erased the hard-taught lessons of the past from mortal memory? Fire sparked in his eyes. "I stand before you, a living witness to the Mage Wars and to the vast, unrepentant evil of Eld, and you call me a liar and dismiss my warnings as Fey tales and bogey stories?”

Show them, Ellysetta had urged. Make them see Mage evil for themselves.

His fingers curled tight. He'd already failed her once. He would not fail her again. Magic gathered in a painful rush, burning his veins with its intensity. "Since I cannot make you listen, perhaps I can make you see. Behold! This is the past I remember, the past I lived.”

Rain swept out his hands. Light shot from his fingertips, undulating beams that formed a glowing, expanding mass. The sounds of battle rose. The smell of burnt flesh, fresh blood, magic, and human sweat. Long-dead men and women-Fey, Celierian, Elf, Danae-unfolded in vivid, masterfully created life. Shei'dalins in flowing red veils worked beneath bright tents to save the wounded and weave peace upon the dying.

He could have simply immersed them all in the past, but he let his weave move slowly across the Council Chamber, enveloping the Celierian lords one by one until each of them stood on that ancient battlefield, every sight, smell, taste, touch, and sound re-created with breathtaking clarity. And as the Spirit weave took each lord, he poured into the man's mind vivid memories of all the events leading up to Mage Wars: the Eld machinations, the subtle corruptions, all culminating in the shocking brutality of a royal assassination, Gaelen's vengeance, and finally the ravaging ferocity of open war.

A blast of Mage Fire shook the earth. A score of pampered lordlings cringed in fear.

A fierce battle was under way. Several thousand Eld soldiers and two dozen Mages were defending a captured Celierian keep. Thick flows of dreadful magic rolled over the castle walls, forming a toxic, deadly mist that oozed across the battlefield towards the approaching army. Celierian soldiers shrieked as the mist enveloped them and their flesh literally fell from their bones. Armor tumbled in clattering heaps as the oozing, bloody bones of what had been men took one final, staggering step before crumpling in puddles of stinking slime. Not even the hungry demons howling across the battlefield would touch the foul soup that remained.

Fey, Elves, and Danae warriors raced towards the front line, magic sparking around them as they blew the acid mist back towards the keep and its surrounding dark armies. A hail of arrows dropped half the reinforcements as they bravely stood on the field and spun their defensive weaves. Demons consumed another two dozen in mere instants. On the ridge, trebuchets flung fiery missiles over the castle walls, and several hundred Elvish archers launched their own deadly accurate volley of arrows into the black-armored enemy ranks.

A deep, terrible roar sounded overhead. A shadow swooped over the warriors, bringing a hot, dark rush of air that carried the scent of tairen and fire and magic. Immense wings, spread wide as a city block, swept low over the battlefield as the giant winged cat dove in for his attack.

Rolling clouds of flame spewed from the tairen's great black muzzle, engulfing the line of robe-clad Mages. Shields sprang up around the Mages, but high-pitched screams erupted from the unfortunate unshielded soldiers nearby as flame clung to flesh and consumed with voracious appetite. Wings pumped, and the great cat reared back, holding the roaring jet of fire on the knot of shielded Mages.

A massive ball of Mage Fire shot towards the black tairen from his left flank.

"Rain! Behind you!" The shout came from several men all at once, Celierian and Fey, fighting together near the front of one allied line.

A second black tairen as large as Rain Tairen Soul swooped down, and a blast of tairen fire consumed the deadly Mage Fire before it reached Rain. The magnificent creature joined Rain, adding its powerful flame to the attack. Moments later, the Mage shields gave way, and half a dozen burning figures raced in frantic, futile madness from the inferno.