The Writers' Circle

My edits in {brackets} and comments at the end.

The Whispers -Chapter One- 

All eleven of them shuffled in the rough seats, each pair of eyes scanning the enormous oval table. For a long, awkward moment, they stared in silence, twiddling their thumbs and nervously biting their lips. The room was eerie and quiet - and dark. Then suddenly, as if summoned by some secret chime of a bell, light exploded from every unlit candle, swallowing {You can't swallow a room in brightness. Bath/envelope/sheath/bask but not swallow.} the room in brightness. 

"Full attendance?" asked the most elegantly clothed man who sat at one end of the table. {don't *tell* us what's he's wearing. Show. "Full attendance?" asked a man, pulling at the lace that edged his silk sleeves.}

"As always," murmured Tyson Cretus. As he glared at a mark in the cracked plaster of the wall, his spiky golden hair glimmered from the sparkling candles. {these two aren't among the nervous eleven, I take it? To reinforce that, have them looking over the quivering group.}

The lights flickered uneasily above the group, while below them the floorboards moaned. A mysterious lull once again captivated the place. Then, one by one, the eleven struggled out of their chairs. A plethora of chains and necklaces rattled from a tall, darkly-clad man when he rose. Slowly, complete noiselessness {not sure you'll get away with that take on silent} fogged over the party. After a few moments of stillness, the elaborately clothed man broke the hush again{if the *elaborately clothed man is Prince Richard, and broke the hush delete the fullstop and have a comma in place}, {new line, then speech} 
"Thought you may not have made it, Alette," said Prince Richard, nodding his jeweled head at a small blonde faery at the other side of the table. His lips twitched in a crooked smile as his kind eyes slid over the familiar faces. "I suspected you may have been a bit occupied with an interruption from the Ethereals. But I see I was incorrect. I do believe they refrained from giving you trouble?" 
Alette nodded her pretty blonde head, shaking her thin orange wings, but she did not elaborate. 
Richard raised a crooked holly stem and, without another word, each of the eleven figures reached one of their hands across the wooden surface and placed it in the middle of the table. {Confused. Placed what in the middle of the table? Their hands, the holly?} Fingers stealthily intertwined with fingers, sweaty palms brushing along white knuckles as the party joined hands. No one uttered a breath; no one braved a word. Then, altogether in one swift motion, the cluster of hands rose high into the air, each hand pulling its owner over the table so the chain could reach the top of the moldy ceiling. The lights vanished, and the room began to spin. 
For the third time during the meeting, everything became disturbingly silence, and for the first time everything became indefinitely black. Lingering moments passed by, each delayed instant leaving behind it a footprint of macabre chill. 
Ty sighed, loudly. "Nienna, Alette - please." 
The room brightened gradually as orbs of orange light popped into {the} room and sparks of fire glinted in the air. Slothfully the orbs illuminated the room, revealing destroyed cobwebs and splintered pieces of furniture which lay skewed across the rotting floor. The air reeked pungently of animal feces and decaying food. 
Nienna scoffed, "It's worse than last time, Richard." 
"I didn't think that was possible," grumbled Ty as he cupped his calloused hands around his face. "Rich, you've really gotta come up with better meeting outlets." 
"At least it's safe," the prince mumbled. 
Alette's petite frame twirled merrily to Richard's side. "I agree. I'd rather be here than with the Ethereals, unpleasant as both situations are." Prince Richard marched into the middle of the room and dropped his large emerald robe to the ground. An exquisite elf sauntered gracefully beside him. As she smiled at the nine members before her, her long brown hair falling like a silk curtain over her shoulders, a piece of the ceiling crumbled to the floor. 
Taking no notice of the mishap, the elf announced, "This is the third meeting we've had, and I believe - " 
"That it's time for us to strike?" interrupted Nienna, the fire nymph, enthusiastically, her blue eyes gleaming with excitement. 
"No . . .{ , delete comma}" answered the elf. "No, not quite. I believe it's time for us to plan." 
"Plan an attack!" the small nymph shouted. Every pair of eyes shifted to Nienna, scowling unhappily. "I'm sorry, Serafina," she giggled, twirling her fire red hair. "Continue?" 
"Gladly. It's time for us to plan how to go about destroying the Barrier the Ethereals set up to regain access to the Outside," Serafina explained calmly. The elf began to pace the length of the room as she spoke. "All eleven of us working together at the same place would soon become . . . hazardous, I believe." 
Murmurs of agreement arose in the room. 
"So," Serafina continued, every gaze following her as she strode back and forth, "I believe it would be best for us to split into groups when we are not meeting." 
Grumbles sounded from the members of the party at this statement. 
Prince Richard stepped in. "These groups will be temporary. However, they are necessary to keep us safe." The prince mindlessly tapped at an orange globe bobbing near his face. "There will be two groups of four and one group of three." 
More sighs drifted into the air. 
Serafina danced beautifully across the floor, forcing a wide grin onto her face. "Quinton, Saralie, Cole, and Weston - you four will be the first group." The four shaded figures did not protest, but they instead shuffled to one corner of the room. 
"Serafina, Cecily, and I will be the second assembly," announced Richard, ruffling his dark brown hair. 
"That leaves Keagan and I to babysit the fire nymph," sighed Ty as he scuffed the dusty floorboards with his muddy boots. 
With a scowl, Nienna shoved on the man's shoulder. "Come on, Keagan," she said optimistically, grabbing at a shy boy's long sleeve. 
"Now each of you groups have an assigned - " Suddenly the elf stopped, mid-sentence. 
A creak echoed from nearby. Quietly but surely, a door rattled open. The sound was not a welcome one. 
Alette gasped, "They're here."

I think the main problem is that you're trying too hard. You're trying to be too perfect, with just so words and lots of nice adjectives. Go back and try to delete all words ending with ly: quietly, optimistically, calmly. Especially if they follow, s/he said.

Is this the prologue? There's a lot of information here, lots of characters for a reader to digest, maybe too much? And actually the ending was very apt: "they're here." This is all you need to make the reader read on.

As for is sounding like the mediaeval times, I think you've done very well to get that across, because I certainly had a feel for it. Not sure what you mean about *modern* though.  The genre felt modern: fantasy.
Good luck.

Noey, for the fantasy genre, imagery, visuals and actions are most important.  You have brought all these to bear in this first chapter.  I can visualize it on a screen.  It grabs my attention from the start and it ends with a touch of suspense.  A very enjoyable read for me.