Two days before the classification meeting…

The Magisterium's private council chamber occupied the floating section of the Central Tower, accessible only to those bearing the highest clearances in all of Amaranth's magic-using community. Afternoon sunlight streamed through crystalline windows, illuminating the room where Beatrix, Valerian, and Galen gathered in deliberation.

Beatrix sat at the head of an obsidian table that reflected her steel-gray braid like a dark mirror, her fingers steepled as she reviewed the documentation spread before her. Galen occupied the chair to her right, while Valerian, too restless to settle, paced around the edge of the room.

"Well," Beatrix said finally, breaking the contemplative silence that had settled over them like morning mist. "I believe we can safely conclude that everything they told us was accurate."

"Accurate seems insufficient," Galen replied, consulting notes that covered three separate scrolls. "They weren't just honest about their abilities—they understated them. The energy output during the resurrection process exceeded our highest projections by orders of magnitude."

Valerian paused his pacing, crossing his arms and fixing Galen with an incredulous stare. "What they've shown us is unprecedented. Not just their abilities, but their very... existence."

"A fair statement." Galen nodded in agreement. "The consciousness preservation mechanism is unlike anything in our archives. Complete personality retention across physical destruction, followed by perfect reintegration. Assuming they have no limit to their resurrections, they are effectively immortal."

"Or, in the very least," Beatrix mused, "functionally deathless. Which brings us to the central question: are they a threat?"

The question hung in the air like incense, slowly dispersing into the stillness. Valerian resumed his pacing, hands clasped behind his back. Galen leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin with the feathered tip of a quill. Beatrix simply let her eyes track Valerian's methodical back-and-forth movement.

"From a purely power-based assessment," Galen said finally, "they represent the most potent magical force we've ever encountered. Their flame generation capabilities exceed Archmage-level pyromancy. Their speed surpasses the most advanced enhancement magic. And their combination of fire control and resilience defies all established metrics of magical might. It's hard to overstate their combat potential."

"And yet," Valerian said, coming to a halt and pivoting to face his colleagues, "the fact remains that they've chosen not to antagonize us or our city... aside from the few scuffles."

Beatrix consulted her own notes, running a fingertip down a column of handwritten remarks. "They arrived seeking assistance, not dominance. They submitted to Guild registration, noble sponsorship, and our own evaluation processes. I see no indication their intentions lie in dominance."

"Even under duress," Galen added. "When Marcus Brightblade abandoned Ember during the hydra encounter, her response was to protect civilians rather than seek revenge. When we requested observation of their resurrection process, they negotiated terms rather than refusing outright."

"That negotiation," Valerian mused, "was particularly telling. They could have simply left the city—which they did for a few days—but they returned to honor their word to us while asserting their right to be treated as partners rather than subjects."

Beatrix stood, moving to the chamber's windows where the view encompassed all of Amaranth's sprawling expanse. The city below bustled with the daily business of thousands of citizens who trusted the Magisterium to protect them from magical threats they couldn't comprehend.

"Which brings us to the precedent question," she said without turning around. "How do we classify beings whose very existence transcends our established framework?"

"We can't," Galen replied simply. "Our system assumes magical practitioners who draw power from external sources and are enhanced through study and practice. They are their own source. If anything, they represent a concentration of magic unto themselves."

Valerian nodded. "They are the source, the vessel, and the practitioner, all in one. They're more than 'talented' or 'gifted'—they're fundamentally distinct from anything in our existing schema."

Beatrix returned to the table, smoothing out her robes as she retook her seat. "Perhaps the question isn't how to regulate them, but whether regulation is necessary at all."

"You're proposing exemption from oversight?" Galen asked, though his tone suggested he found the concept intriguing rather than alarming.

"I'm proposing recognition of reality," Beatrix replied, holding Galen's gaze with her customary intensity. "They've demonstrated that they don't require oversight to behave ethically. They've shown that traditional magical classifications don't apply to their abilities. They've proven that they can be trusted with power that exceeds anything in our experience."

"It would be unprecedented," Valerian observed, though without objection in his voice.

"So are they," Beatrix replied. "Unprecedented situations require unprecedented responses."

Galen shuffled through his documentation, finding the analysis he sought. "From a theoretical standpoint, exemption makes sense. Our oversight exists to prevent misuse of power by practitioners who might lack wisdom, experience, or ethical grounding. They've demonstrated all three in abundance."

"And from a practical standpoint," Valerian added, "attempting to regulate beings of their capabilities would be... challenging. They could leave Amaranth at any time, establish themselves elsewhere, or simply ignore regulations they found unreasonable."

"But they haven't," Beatrix pointed out. "Despite months of scrutiny, political manipulation, and bureaucratic pressure, they've remained here, contributing to our society, helping our citizens, following our laws. That level of commitment suggests genuine investment in our community."

"That could change," Valerian pointed out.

"Anything could change," Beatrix replied with a slight smile. "Galen could decide to use his knowledge for personal gain. You could choose to prioritize research over public safety. I could allow institutional bias to override good judgment. We don't regulate people based on what they might do—we respond to what they actually do."

"Logical." Galen nodded in agreement. "Exemption would offer no guarantees, but neither does any other option."

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"To be clear," Valerian said, his tone serious, "I'm not advocating for carte blanche. Perhaps exemption from classification, but not from responsibility."

"Agreed." Beatrix tapped a finger thoughtfully on her stack of documents. "We must maintain the ability to intervene if their actions threaten Amaranth or its people. They must understand that exemption is not immunity; it's a promise of freedom so long as they uphold the laws of our land."

"So we classify them as..." Galen prompted.

"Something new," Beatrix replied. "Something that acknowledges their unique nature without trying to force them into inadequate categories."

Before either man could respond, a sharp knock interrupted their deliberations. Beatrix frowned—she'd left explicit instructions not to be disturbed—but called for entry when the knocking persisted.

Heidi appeared in the doorway, her usual cheerful demeanor replaced by obvious anxiety. "I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, Magistrate, but we've received an urgent communication from the northern territories. Ambassador Kerick is requesting immediate audience regarding what he terms 'an existential threat to the realm.'"

Beatrix exchanged glances with Galen and Valerian. Ambassador Kerick represented the northern duchies, a collection of formerly independent territories that had voluntarily joined Amaranth's sphere of influence for mutual protection and trade benefits.

He was not given to dramatic pronouncements.

"Send him in," Beatrix instructed.

Ambassador Kerick entered the chamber like a gust of ill wind, his brow glistening with sweat despite the chamber's climate-controlled atmosphere. A tall, weathered man in his fifties, he typically projected the calm competence of someone accustomed to managing complex political situations.

Today, however, his usually immaculate appearance showed signs of hasty travel, and his eyes carried the haunted look of someone who'd witnessed something terrible.

"Magistrate Cawel, honored Archmages," he said, offering perfunctory bows before launching directly into his message. "Four days ago, the Duchy of Erebos fell to a force that... defies conventional military response."

"Fell how?" Valerian asked, approaching the table and leaning across it.

"A dragon," Kerick replied simply. "Ancient, white, larger than anything in our historical records. It appeared with a brood of lesser wyrms and claimed the entire duchy as its territory. The capital city of Belavar is... gone. Not destroyed—transformed into some sort of frozen fortress."

The conference room fell silent except for the steady hum of ward enchantments and the distant sounds of city life filtering through the windows.

"How many casualties?" Beatrix asked, though she suspected the answer would be devastating.

"Unknown," Kerick replied, shaking his head. "The dragon hasn't killed the population—it's enslaved them. Our scouts report that the entire duchy has been converted into some sort of servitor state, providing tribute for the creature's growing brood."

"That's unprecedented," Galen whispered, more to himself than to the room.

"And you want the Magisterium to...?" Valerian prompted.

"Lead a coalition response," Kerick said without hesitation. "The northern duchies lack the magical resources to confront an ancient dragon. The neighboring kingdoms are already talking about abandoning the region entirely rather than risk similar conquest. If we don't act soon, this creature will have consolidated control over an area the size of Amaranth's entire province."

Beatrix felt the familiar weight of institutional responsibility settling on her shoulders. The Magisterium's charter included defending the realm against magical threats, and an ancient dragon certainly qualified. But the resources required for such a campaign...

"What assets could the northern territories contribute?" Valerian asked, clearly thinking along similar lines.

"Everything we have," Kerick replied grimly. "The Adventurers' Guild has offered full cooperation—their A-rank teams, logistical support, whatever specialists we can recruit. But we need archmage-level magical support to have any hope of success."

"You've already spoken to the Guild?" Beatrix asked, eyebrows raised.

"They were my first stop." Kerick offered a small, tired smile. "I knew that if I came to you first, you'd ask me the same question Valerian just posed."

Beatrix exhaled slowly, acknowledging the logic of his strategy. The Adventurers' Guild was more resource-rich than the Magisterium itself, a fact that had strained relations between the two institutions on numerous occasions. By securing a commitment from the Guild before broaching the matter with the Magisterium, Kerick had neatly circumvented potential posturing about who would take the lead in the coalition.

"An ancient dragon," Valerian mused, taking a seat for the first time. "If I remember my lore correctly, there are no known examples of such a creature being vanquished by mortal hands."

"I have heard of attempts, of course," Galen added from his chair, "but I'm aware of no successful case in any of the documented histories."

Kerick's expression grew even grimmer. "Which is why I'm asking the Archmages—no, begging them—for their assistance. Without the full weight of the Magisterium's power behind this alliance, I fear we face a threat that could engulf the entire northern region. And, in time, perhaps the whole continent."

A long silence fell as Beatrix considered the ambassador's words, seeking some way to avoid the responsibility he'd laid at their feet. But as she well knew, there were some burdens that duty demanded be shouldered.

She found herself thinking of five young women who'd just demonstrated the ability to resurrect from death and generate flames beyond anything her mages could hope to conjure... and wondered if perhaps fate had just provided her with an unexpected solution.

"How much time do we have?" she asked.

"Weeks, perhaps months before it begins expanding beyond its current territory," Kerick replied. "But every day we delay allows it to consolidate control and strengthen its position."

After Kerick departed with promises of swift consideration, the three Magisterium officials sat in contemplative silence. The dragon threat recontextualized their entire discussion about the Fractured Flame's classification. The same powers that had posed a possible danger to Amaranth now represented a vital potential asset in the upcoming campaign.

"An ancient dragon of frost," Beatrix finally said, breaking the silence. "And flame-wielders of unparalleled potency, with no obvious limit on their ability to resurrect themselves. Coincidence?"

"You think fate sent them to us at this precise moment for this specific crisis?" Galen asked.

Beatrix shrugged, a rare concession to fatigue. "I'm not one to believe in fate, or destiny. But the timing... it certainly seems that we've received a rather dramatic answer to the question of what their purpose here might be."

"If they choose to participate," Valerian said softly, though his tone suggested he considered that possibility quite likely. "We can't compel them to risk their lives for our strategic objectives."

"No," Beatrix agreed. "But we can offer them the opportunity to prove themselves as protectors of the realm rather than curiosities to be studied."

She looked down at the classification documents spread across the table, then made her decision.

"Exalted," she said firmly. "We'll classify them as Exalted—beings whose nature transcends normal categories and whose autonomy we acknowledge and respect. And then we'll offer them the chance to help save thousands of lives from an ancient evil."

"Are we really doing this?" Valerian asked quietly. "Trusting the fate of the northern region to beings we've only known for a few months?"

Beatrix allowed herself another small, weary smile. "I can think of no more direct way for them to demonstrate the trustworthiness we were discussing just a short while ago."

"It does provide... clarity," Galen agreed. "And if my estimations are accurate, their collective magical potential may be exactly what we need to turn the tide against a being of such legendary power. They'd certainly give us options in battle no army could hope to equal."

"Speaking of armies," Valerian interjected, "this campaign will require a unified force like nothing we've mobilized before. Even with the Guild's cooperation and the commitment of the northern territories, success is far from assured."

"I know," Beatrix said. "Which is why we need to offer a very generous incentive for certain individuals to join our cause. Find me Kaelin Reed."

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