Still, it’s curious that in its disregard we’ve come to a point where a single choice can be regarded both noble and immoral. —From Governing Dynamics, an open dialogue had each Endnigh in the College of Philosophy, Aubade Grove A light mist hung in the air, touching Roth’s skin with a chill as he waited outside the Sodality meeting hall. Losol was nearby, as were a few other leaguemen, all discreetly out of sight. Distantly, he heard the voices of sodalists talking, arguing, deciding. They’d been at it three hours. Roth was patient. Important conversations took time. A loud crack sounded half an hour later—a gavel perhaps. And shortly, sodalists began streaming from the doors. Roth kept a close distance, watching for Urieh Palon. It wasn’t hard to see that the Sodality had moved fast to name him First Sodalist for Vohnce—the mantle of leadership hung on the man like a diver’s weight. “Sodalist Palon,” Roth called, getting the young man’s attention, “may I walk with you?”
