Even as the Cynn spoke, some of the Assembly members weren't listening--the pregnant spirit, who was transcribing the Cynn's words on a sheaf of paper in dark ink, spared a glance back over their shoulder. A member with dark olive skin and grey hair was leaning over to mutter something behind their hand at a yellow-eyed spirit who sat very straight, their head barely tilted over to listen.

< My father, > the Cynn went on, < proposed expanding the Royal Order. The Assembly refused to lift the cap on its membership. I proposed a new coalition altogether--an international one, in concert with other worlds affected by the slave trade. This, too, you have refused. >

Behind the Cynn was the thing that dwarfed him by comparison, even as he stood at the podium leaning forward on one elbow, speaking loudly. The wall parted here in an archway around a huge statue made of carved and painted wood, a statue of a bare-chested androgynous figure which sat crosslegged, a massive amber stone held to their chest in one hand, and the coppery bells suspended from a giant beam in the other. The statue had intricately-carved loose clothing, painted yellow and green, and down its center it was split by a line of bright blue paint that seemed to glow as it flowed down, splitting futher into forks of lightning across its shins.

The statue sat in a pool of quiet water, which was flowing down from above along the wall behind it. A smooth glass pane parted the ceiling above its head; the light was filtering down from this, and there were fish-like shapes moving around beyond it.

It was against this backdrop that the Cynn--all in yellow and green himself--cast a withering look around at the Assembly and continued, < The Assembly--you--refuse to even meet with the other heads of state. People are disappearing from our streets and you have no solutions, only obstruction. How petty, > he snapped. < How useless. And here we sit. >

"...Anyway, he tried to shame the Assembly into acting."