Birthright

Still relaxed in his chair Gerald observed her still. He had never had to deal with any of the Slayers in anything but a tutorial role, a specialist called upon to instruct them on the signs to be alert for when coming across items that could be anything from an ancient portal key, a goblet or a gourd which could hold the essences capable of protection or harm, to something as innocuous as a garden gnome enchanted to keep rabbits from eating the garden vegetables. While the latter had been something he used purely for variety and entertainment purposes, to prove a point, the former were all objects he had been instrumental in collecting over the years, along with many others. He'd never understood her deep attachment to the Slayer who'd died, whose name he struggled to recall. To him she was too talented in her translations and observations of ancient cultures and he felt it a waster of her abilities, to get herself entangled with the young girls who were called into a life that was not usually conducive to longevity.

"The Council has become a little obtuse, when it comes to management of its affairs," he offered, "and for a number of years I suspect it has been a case of the left hand not knowing what the right hand is doing." This was something he had fostered, to his own ends, and was happily overseeing.

"I wouldn't worry, as most still regard the northern Americas as the colonies," he added with a soft laugh, glancing around the room that clearly indicated they were anything but. Mostly. "There is a lot to be said for those of us who know our business, to follow our noses and keep the ship afloat, so don't worry yourself too much about their reactions." As he lifted his glass to take a sip he asked, "what's her name?"