“I must add, while the first performed as we expected, the rest are not a guarantee yet.” Emperor Terrianis attention focused on the large painting on the wall, depicting the Foundation of the Elhyrissian Empire. The First Emperor’s figure standing in the center invited his myriad colored, vertically slit pupils possessing elven and draconic beauty parallel to his. A refined face, long velvety ashen black hair, eyes gleaming with perfection and determination.
“Your Highness?” The voice carrying subtle hisses called out to him, bringing his attention away from the equally bright and gloomy fresco.
“Excuse us. It has been a long week.” He turned around facing the owner of the sibilant voice. Sectarch Magistratua Anguraa Terrisitae Elhyrissiar, a Drachelven a head shorter than Emperor Terrianis himself, his long dark hair cascaded down naturally with dreaded ends decorated, encased in a dozen silvery rings on each. His handsome, menacing face adorned by vibrant azure scales at his jaws, reaching down and covering his throat hidden in his robe’s high, gaudy collar. His draconic eyes burning with coldness and respect as they gazed upon Terrianis himself.
“Understood, your Majesty. We can return later.” He bowed down lightly, the tall armored figure besides him following suit.
“That won’t be necessary. We’re now refreshened.” The wind picked up, blowing gently into their fine attires, soft hairs as Terrianis took a deep breath, closing his eyes.
“We were just simply meandering through our thoughts. Old memories of better, yet at the same time, also harder times.” He turned back to the fresco, his gaze moving from his grandfather’s depiction to the seven figures, each depicted with perfection as they were clad in their shiny alabaster armors. Their weapons drawn, but not in preparation for battle but to defend their liege, the first Chosen of the Maker. Behind the group itself, an enormous dragon with scales of myriad shifting hues casted its luminous shadow onto them while its enormous six wings spread out in protection as menacing shadows, skeletal shapes of shifting darkness reached to snuff out the radiance surrounding and filling the first heroes, each handpicked by the ten Deos themselves.
“See that one, with more feminine contours? That was our grandmother. We heard they met when they were children back in our home plane.” A pang of melancholy stirred within him as he glimpsed their forms, his right slender arm reaching towards them, as it slowly turned into envy.
“I heard many tales of our old world. The sweet scent of the trees in the summers and springs, the pearly, seamless rivers and the eternal light that kept the darkness and all that lurks in it away.” Anguraa walked beside him while reminiscing of the old tales told to them by the elders that saw the First Dawn in their ethereal realm.
“Well, some of those are a bit exaggerated as our father used to tell us.” Terrianis chuckled as he remembered his father watering down some of the tales his grandfather told him in his twilight years. “In the end, this world is as much as His perfect creation, as our previous once was.” He added with a sullen tone.
“But anyway, this… new invention of yours seems promising so far. Are there anymore in production?” Terrianis slowly turned around, circling with curiosity around the imposing armored figure standing in complete stillness, and silence.
“We have a few more on the way. But at the moment, I cannot guarantee a similar result. We will do our best of course your majesty!” Anguraa added while rotating his body slowly, his wide lips curving faintly on the left, feeling rather satisfied with his work.
“If there is need for more, let us know, the Draennith Praetoriar has enough to provide materials for you.” Terrianis added while stopping at the stairs, basking in the large garden spanning for three kilometers into the distance. “Speaking of them, any news on your end about the chosen?” He turned back, his smooth colorful eyes gleamed with cold anticipation.
“Well there is one, but regretfully are not what your majesty would like to hear.” Anguraa said with a tinge of tension in his voice. “The one in the south perished in a spectacular fashion, a victim of Consumption.” He pointed out while his gaze remained on Terrianis gaze, even when all his being screamed at him to look away to the ground.
“We see. Regretful it is.” Terrianis said with a somber tone as he turned back to the garden. He masked slight relief by facing the garden where his 99th and 100th daughters played.
“The remaining four elude us, but we have an inkling feeling that they live somewhere in the North.” For a while Angaraa remained silent, not sure whether to utter these words. But in the end, he gave in as always, a weakness of his that his predecessor warned him numerous times.
“A strange choice. But the ways of the Almodo are beyond our comprehension that much we’re sure of.” He said while caressing his right palm with his index finger. “We have to find the rest with haste, before the Shadow moves again.”
“We will double our effort.” Angaraa bowed down then with a snap of his finger, disappeared in a burst of arcane lights with the armored figure, leaving the pondering Emperor under the light of the pale moon light.
**
“Do not fiddle, better if you don’t see it your Majesty!” Asatyra said while blocking Aurelithae’s eyes with her hands. While her sight was blocked, she clearly heard as Ohtia’s jaw expanded beyond its natural length and width, turning into a gaping hole fit for even larger animals. Even while standing on all fours, his chin, jaw touches the floor while slowly pushing the unfortunate inquistorier into himself.
Aurelithae recoiled softly as his jaws shrunk slightly while the corpse slid into him, his bones, flesh and even the organs made space to the fully uniformed high elf. “I’m done, you can lift your hands from her eyes.” Then as he stood up, his belly inflated for a few moments before mana flowed through the acid inside it. Waves formed all over his body, moving constantly as they reconstruct his appearance into the elf’s.
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His dark attire then followed in suite, taking the appearance of the Inquisitorir Magistralua. A long blackish robe reached deep down the feet, ending in overly high collars that remained stiff even in harsher climates. A cloak part of the shoulders, extended into a large hood and a mask resembling the beautiful elvish visage of the Alluring Weaver crafted from a silver alloy.
“Is everything okay girl?” Ivor asked while touching her shoulders, with slight concern.
“Yeah… yeah it was just my first time seeing someone… well dying.” She said while forcing a smile on her face, hidden under her face mask.
“The sooner you get used to it, the better.” Ivor said with a mellowing tone. “It won’t be the last time sadly.” Then he added, trying to correct the first part.
“While what Ivor said is a bit morbid, he is correct. Better you get used to this. But for now keep silent until I return.” Ohtia said in the high elves, haughty voice before he left. “Wait how will we know he returned?” She asked to shift her focus from the recent memory of the muffled death wails of the elven inquistirier, his blue eyes pleading for her help, for mercy.
“Don’t worry about that. We have our code to recognize each other.” Asatyra softly whispered while pushing herself onto the wall besides the door, her serrated daggers in hand. “I say it for your sake, but if it’s not him, do not look away.” She stated coldly.
Minutes pass by in the small, dimly lit room as they waited for Ohtia. Aurelithae prayed to all the Deos, the Almodo and the Seven Elder Dragons that it was him, and not someone else. Then after what felt like hours, in reality, close to half an hour, soft, periodic knocks reverberated through the thick ornamented door.
“The way is clear.” Without saying a word, Asatyra and Ivor lowered their weapons as Ohtia’s voice resounds within their minds leading to the former to open the door.
After passing this to Aurelithae, they followed after him sticking to the crisp shadows. They stopped at every now and then, the space around them bending slightly as their forms became completely transparent. Ohtia bowed tenderly to the inquistoriers passing by, at each Aurelithae froze in fear, the thought of being discovered terrified her.
At each one she imagined the disappointed gaze of his father, the punishment that this may bring with itself. But then the image of Isocrates, his family and friends and all the others she had seen amongst the common and serf-folks helped her hush the fear away.
Then Ivor raised his index finger, signaling to her that they found the cell their fellow, a dwarf called Vidnol had been kept by the Inquistorir after he got caught prying around their headquarters. They remained still, even their breath was unheard by the sharpest of elven ears as they watched a patrolling pair of Custodiers pass by. Aurelithae went blind for a short moment as the light from the torches reflected from their shiny, smooth breastplates that thrummed with each step.
“Okay now.” Ivor whispered to her, and they all entered through the door, a carving of a frame lit up before the alabaster marble slid into the wall, closing the door as soon as both of their feet were inside the damp residence.
“What in the Maker’s name they did to him?” Asatyra whispered after rushing to the dwarf laying in the corner, his gaze empty, his pupils completely widened as they stared at the soft shadows occupying the opposing corner.
“He seems to be still alive.” Aurelithae drew her right hand all across his body while Ivor kept him in a sitting position. A bluish white glow emanated from her palms, highlighting the rough fair face of the unresponsive Vidnol. “Even his soul is still in there.” She added sparking hope in the other three.
“Are you sure?” Asatyra asked after calming herself, hoping for the best, but knowing most often reality is much crueler.
“Yes, there is something… It’s like a sack that appears to be full of rocks… or potatoes but when you open it, the illusion fades, revealing only air condensed inside…. if that makes sense.” She circumscribed it as best as she could, for a while the three looked at her trying to decipher what she meant.
“Wait.. there is something more.” Then the feeling changed, at first a bit repulsive, chilling before it becomes tender, beckoning. His empty, faded pupils gazed into hers with a tinge of disappointment.
“What is the meaning of this!!” Unseen tendrils start crawling onto her arms, wrapping around it, coldly cuddling just as the loud yell of an inquisitorier filled the damp cell. A swirling sphere of flames bathed the four of them in its warm light, while also threatening with raging consumption while hovering above his left palm. His mask that otherwise would appear mesmerizing, menacingly stared at them as it bathed in the light, turning the fiery tone into a silvery.
But before he could incinerate any one of them, his emerald green bloody flowed straight onto his robe, reached the floor not long after its appearance. The same emerald blood dripped onto the floor from one of Asatyra’s daggers.
“Time to move. Grab him.” Aurelithae remained frozen, her eyes locked onto the corpse while the bells ranging filled the halls and long corridors.
“Come on girl.” Ohtia noticing this grabbed her by the arm and they rushed over the corpse, leaving behind emerald footprints unknowingly as they ran the way they came from.
“Wait no, we have to use another route.” Aurelithae coming out from her semi trance yelled as the approaching footsteps signaled the guards catching up.
“What do you mean?” Asatyra asked.
“They probably already altered the inscription.” Ivor yelled before she could. “Shit, right.” Asatyra cursed as they changed their trajectory mid rush.
“Run, I’ll buy us some time.” Ivor said as he immediately stopped, drawing his long bow with a wide smile under his face mask. “Don’t worry about him kid, he will catch up to us in no time.” Ohtia noticing her worry, said in a mellowing tone that broke every now and then as the heavy body of Vidnol took its toll.
After reaching the great hall, a dime a dozen custodiers surrounded them, their golden spears pointed at them.
“Luathia leave and do not wait for us.” Asatyra slowly assumed a battle stance, her eyes glinting as she swung one of them at the wall on the right, blowing a large hole into the neighboring. Ohtia dropped Vidnol down while transforming back. His fingers elongate, nails turn to claws tearing the fabric of his gloves while he walked beside her.
Then as the tension thickened to the point, one could bite it, an ear-piercing wail reverberated through the whole hall. Those who couldn’t cover their ears in time, fell like puppets whose strings have been cut. The three of them barely managed to react, only thanks to Aurelithae’s quick notice.
“What in the…” Asatyra said as he gazed upon Vidnol standing. His hair darkened like volcanic ash, exuding flame and shadow that swallowed the little light inside, his skin pale as a corpse’s. Both his eyes empty dark abysses gleaming with ceaseless anger…