He sat alone at the large Obsidian table. His eyes were locked on the stone chair reserved for the Elder of the family's ruling Council. Since the first night his father had hauled the massive slab to this room many decades ago that seat, and the position it represented, stood as the focal point of the D'Amavir clan's power. But for too many years that position had stood only for the selfish desires of the men who held it. First his brother Lajon and his unquenchable thirst for magical power, no matter how dark a stain it left on his soul. And now his Uncle Merik... Though he had no real proof, he knew that Merik was manipulating the situation in Yew in an attempt to destroy Mikael. Silk gloved fingers rapped a rhythmic tune as the lone man pondered the situation. He knew what he must do, but he raged against that reality in silent turmoil as he sat there, eyes locked on the empty chair. After several minutes he gave a sigh and left the room. Within the hour he was aboard the family ship and on his way to the mainland.