Like scenes from a never-ending story, where there in endless halls and huge chambers, dark robes and heavy cloaks slide, stern men in attire ready to quip and stab gather, a decorum of strained hostilities and false grins, and somewhere there, they greet the wizard of the century, the one who pauses, takes a posture and then sharply raises his voice and addresses the chamber: "Sire, your children are in trouble, failing in education while you are shutting doors on highly skilled magicians from far away lands…open the gates and let the talent march in, or this land is in trouble." In quick response from the very high altar, the hooded men shout unison: "Close the doors; they are nothing but barbarians outside the gates.