The Throne room hummed with magical energy, a soft green light bathing all of the forty-two scholars sitting within it. They chattered and whispered to each other while they sat on looted equestrian cushions, an occasional drone passing each learned changeling with a tray carrying water jugs and small concentrated love-gems on their back. The Scholars’ horns maintained solid streams of magical energy looping straight up to the ceiling, every one of the forty-two strands of energy powering a massive glowing crystal that jutted out from the centre of the roof. Six soldiers stood guard at the doors watching it all, their freshly-sharpened chitin spears and polished blue armour glinting in the glow of the magical efforts. 