• "Very good."
    Almost everybody in the room jumped at the voice; they had nearly forgotten it was still there. Nonetheless satisfied with his triumph in impressing his Lord, Toma stood, bowed to him and the flames, then sat again silently.
    Thank you, Toma. You are a worthy Cyrinian," the voice said. And thank you, too, Mikhan, for...er...exterminating...the traitor, Rel.
    "Of course, sir." They answered in unison.
    "But Alpheda," the voice whispered, so only the Cyrin Lord could hear, "there is another deceiver among us."
    Alpheda, the Cyrin Lord, spun around and stared at the fire in disbelief. He walked closer so that the conversation would be private. "What do you mean, sir?" He replied quietly. "Surely there isn't another---"
    "There is." the voice interrupted.
    "But...but that's impossible!" He said in a hushed voice. Turning to face the group, he paused. "Who is it? He asked unsurely. The man scanned the room's eight other faces as he waited for the voice's reply.
    As for the other eight faces, they were undoubtedly confused. They talked amongst one another in hushed voices, and behind their bright, curious eyes and pale red skin they knew they were all wondering the same thing: What was their leader doing?
    Very lightly, the flames whispered, "The one who drinks from his water cup is the one you want."
    The Cyrin Lord raised eyebrows and waited, for when the Superior made a prediction, or prophecy, as one might call it, it would come true in the next 24 hours. But this prediciton seemed as if it would come true very soon.
    Before long, Mikahn picked up his cup and was about to put to his lips, but suddenly turned away and sneezed. Forgetting he wanted a drink he set the glass back down on the table. Two seats down, Toma swirled his cup, bored with the silence. Another man, with a stocky build and short chestnut hair, cleared his throat and coughed. He grabbed his cup and took a gulp then set it back down on the table. He sighed and sat back in his chair.
    "Haiyn, what did you just do?" the Cyrin Lord asked curiously.
    "I...I drank from my cup, my Lord."
    "And why?"
    "I was thirsty."
    "Aha. How interesting," Alpheda mused. He slowly paced around the table. "It is intriguing, Haiyn, that the Superior's prophecy has come true already."
    The Cyrinians at the table looked at eachother in confusion. "What prophecy, sir?" Toma asked over the mingled conversations of the others.
    "The one that Haiyn just fulfilled," he answered with a devilish smile. "And do you know why, Toma?" The conversing of the others ended at tis moment and died into silence.
    "No, sir, I do not."
    "Because Haiyn is a spy from the district," the Cyrin Lord said with glee. The fire began laughing evilly. Alpheda continued to smile as he extended his left hand and flexed his ring finger. Haiyn crumpled and fell to the floor, dead.