The Rules of Magic

Far past the Material Realm, in the Outer Planes of existence, the clockwork city of Mechanus stands as an ever-present force of order. In a gargantuan palace, divine beings have congregated, sitting atop chairs that elevate towards the Heavens. Beings of Law fill the room. On the left, those aligned to Good: Gods themselves. On the right, those of evil: the infamous Devils. At the center sits the Divine Being of Order, Primus, in all of his glory. The hall is filled with bickering, mostly coming from the god’s side. The voice of a dwarven god, clad in ornate armor, booms across the hall. “The Weave Concordat has been violated! There sits a pact of mages that far exceeds one dozen in the so-called “School of Evocation”. They must be struck down, as is the law of the gods!   A snort comes from the devil’s side, and an orange-skinned being retorts. “Always on with what the gods want. What’s the harm in it, anyways? It’s not as if they won’t just kill each other off eventually.”   This angers the dwarven god. “You devils are all the same. Wouldn’t know order if it crawled down to the Nine Hells and bit you in the horn! Sol, pipe in here!”   A god bathed in sunlight allows a smirk to escape his lips. “For once, I agree with the devil, Branukk. Why should we care about some mages? The valley is far separated from other civilized lands. At least, for now. Granted, there is contact, but this school of wizardry will probably fall apart long before anything comes of it.”   His words light a fire in the belly of a dark-skinned, tribal-looking woman, with oceanic tattoos dotting her bare skin. “The sun god speaks of ignorance. Bah! We should strike the mages down where they stand. I, Izi of the moon, would send a hurricane myself—!”   A woman that eminates the zest of life, ignores Izi’s words and turns her head towards Sol. “My children expand ever-presently to the east. They will find this school one day.”   Another Devil speaks up. He sits far higher than any other on their side, and his horns glisten in the light. “Do you know how I can tell of your bias, Vita?   The gods turn to him, a mix of respect and disgust dripping. “Asmodeus. How nice of you to join us.”   “It’s because of your worshippers. All of you. How convenient, that those who derive their magic from the glorious gods be exempt from the Third Law of the Concordat. Of course, including them would weaken your influence. Meanwhile… my devils work in the world with one hand tied behind their back. No deals can be made without careful consideration on who surrounds them. No pacts can be formed without wondering what consequences would come. And you call yourselves unbiased. Shameful.”   Branukk’s scowl deepens. “Your sign dots the Concordat as well, Asmodeus. Don’t act so mightily on a deal that you agreed to.”   “Oh please, Branukk. You’re one step away from a Devil yourself, what with how you turned your back on the Duergar.”   The dwarves god stands in anger. “YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO ME WITH SUCH—“   A beautiful, yet rugged woman with long black hair pipes in. With her voice, a gust of wind follows. “Calm yourselves.”   Attention is drawn to her.   “It isn’t about what the mages are doing so much as the principle of it. The third law of the Weave Concordat clearly states that no more than a dozen mages may congregate on Omne for an extended time, else an Inevitable be dispatched. And yet, here we are. The beings of Mechanus stand idle.   Her attention turns towards the being in the center. “Primus, god and ruler of Mechanus, we gather here not to question your decision, for you are the embodiment of order and therefor cannot act against its interests. We gather here for answers. Why has the Concordat been violated now, when its rulings have been upheld so many times in the past?”   For the first time during the meeting, Primus speaks. With his voice, the room seems to tick and turn like the components to a clock.   “INQUIRY BY GODDESS AQUILA. ANSWER: NO MORE THAN TWELVE MAGES SHALL GATHER ON OMNE. THIS LAW HAS NOT BEEN BROKEN.”   Confusion sweeps the room. Even Asmodeus looks perplexed. Aquila responds.   “But, Primus… There are clearly more than a dozen mages in the Starstruck Valley’s Evocation School.”   “ANSWER: THE STARSTRUCK VALLEY IS NOT ON OMNE. THE SCHOOL, ALONG WITH THE MAJORITY OF THE VALLEY, LIES ON A METEOR FRAGMENT. THIS METEOR DOES NOT ORIGINATE ON OMNE. THIS METEOR IS NOT OMNE.”   The room is silent. Primus waits for exactly ten seconds for a response, which he does not receive. Then:   “THIS MEETING IS NOW DISMISSED.”   One by one, systematically, the divine beings disappear from their chairs. As they do so, Asmodeus thinks in bewilderment. Then, just before he disappears, he has a realization. A smile crosses his face, as he glances over towards the god’s side. He makes briefs eye contact with Maga, goddess of the weave. She shares a knowing smile with him, before they are both whisked away.