The emergency family meeting had been called within hours of the academy announcement, bringing together Black family members who rarely gathered outside formal occasions. Axnem sat in the mansion's main conference room, surrounded by relatives whose expressions ranged from concerned to openly worried.
His father presided from the head of the table, while Grandfather Aldric occupied his customary position where he could observe everyone without being directly scrutinized. Several cousins from branch families had arrived throughout the afternoon, along with family advisors whose counsel had guided Black decisions for decades.
"The academy's request for expanded archive access coincides suspiciously with their announcement of dangerous fieldwork programs," observed Uncle Garrett, whose merchant connections provided intelligence about economic impacts of the crisis. "They're planning to use our knowledge to train students for high-risk operations."
"Including our own heir," added Aunt Miriam, her tone suggesting strong disapproval. "Axnem's involvement in experimental research was acceptable when it remained theoretical. Direct exposure to magical disruptions is another matter entirely."
Axnem remained silent, understanding that family decisions required consensus among the adults before his own preferences would be considered. The Black family's survival had always depended on careful collective judgment rather than individual initiatives.
"The archive materials we've shared represent only a fraction of our total resources," Grandfather Aldric said calmly. "The academy's success with network casting principles will inevitably lead to requests for additional knowledge—information that could prove even more valuable and therefore more dangerous to possess."
Lord Marcus consulted notes he'd prepared for the meeting. "Financial analysis indicates that academy cooperation could resolve our immediate debt obligations. The research contracts they're proposing would provide forty-seven thousand gold sovereigns over the next eighteen months—sufficient to satisfy the Valdris Syndicate and maintain family operations."
"But at what cost?" Aunt Miriam demanded. "If Axnem is injured or killed during fieldwork, no amount of monetary compensation will restore our heir."
The blunt statement hung in the air, forcing everyone to confront the reality that advanced magical research involved genuine mortal peril. In his future memories, Axnem had seen talented researchers die from exposure to uncontrolled magical phenomena.
"The boy's capabilities exceed normal first-year standards," Grandfather Aldric observed. "His theoretical understanding and practical skill development suggest potential for advancement that could serve family interests. But only if he survives the process."
"What does Axnem think?" asked Cousin Elena, whose question directed attention to him for the first time during the meeting.
"I think the crisis is real and growing," he replied carefully. "Whether I participate in academy programs or not, the magical disruptions will affect everyone. At least through direct involvement, I might contribute to solutions rather than merely hoping others will solve the problems."
His grandfather's sharp eyes studied him intently. "You speak with unusual certainty for someone with limited experience of real magical crises."
The observation was dangerous territory—too much apparent knowledge could raise questions about sources and motivations that Axnem couldn't safely answer.
"I've been studying the theoretical implications extensively," he said. "The mathematical models suggest that current disruption patterns will escalate exponentially unless effective countermeasures are developed quickly."
"Which brings us to the central question," Lord Marcus said. "Do we trust the academy to protect our interests while using our knowledge and risking our heir?"