Reliquiæ Antiquitatis
Late Frost 123
The Luxium
It wasn’t more than a moment’s time back in Hilana’s apartment that a startling knock rapped against her front door. Once it was answered, she would see no one at first and only after blinking did she see a black figure seem to phase into existence. The veiled Sentinel stepped inside without welcome and paused, noting Raithen, to bow to him. The Sentinel spoke in a voice as ambiguous as their veiled and vested figure. Late Frost 123
The Luxium
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“Your Resplendence.” And back to Hilana, “Ms. Chenzira. The Vigilia Magna is most interested in your progress on the isle. I have been tasked with escorting you both to a debrief at a secure location with Vigilia High Command. Please take a moment to pack for a week-long excursion. Duke Raithen, your packing has already been seen to. The Magnati congregate in the meanwhile, so tarry not.”
With that said, the Sentinel would step aside. It was unclear how they knew Hilana and Raithen had returned. Had they been staking out the apartment Scanning for shifts in the slipspace? Was some sort of alarum beacon set? Or was it some larger network of surveillance, suspected by many and unknown to most? Whatever the case, they’d wasted no time in stepping in. If Hilana had not already suspected her endeavour was drawing close to a climax, this certainly seemed like a good sign that such was the case.
When things were squared away on Hilana’s end, the Sentinel lifted their hands and executed a series of gestures, whispering in Vallenor, as the shadows began to gather from the corners of the room in which they’d lurked, forming a ring. The ring widened to a size through which even Raithen could step without ducking his wings.
“Follow.” The Sentinel stepped into the ring and was swallowed by shadow. As the others stepped through, neither Semblance nor Traversion would give them a full picture of what was being done. It was clearly intentionally obscure, though Raithen would sense Traversion magic was being utilised. It was complemented by something else, which concealed the slipspace pathways being Traversed.
Somewhere in the Atraxian Expanse
Moments later
Moments later
Once through the portal, they would find themselves in unfamiliar environs. It was a simple, dimly lit chamber, rather like a holding cell. Stony grey walls with no windows nor even doors surrounded them. It was simple, spartan and bereft of adornment. No paintings on the walls, no furniture upon which to recline. Just an austere, unwelcoming box of stone.
“We will wait here unti—” The Sentinel’s voice was interrupted by a booming baritone that seemed to emit from every surface surrounding them:
“We are gathered.” With no sound, the wall before them shifted, a fissure of light emerged in the centre and widened into an opening about the breadth of a set of double doors. Through it, they could see a massive chamber with high ceilings, towering columns and a high daïs at the end of the tiled floor. It was far enough that they could not determine the identities of the five figures who sat on imposing thrones. The Sentinel who’d brought them, began to step forward marching the vasty length of a hall so great it might house every member of both royal families, even the dragons in their true forms. It seemed very empty, holding only five at so great a distance.
Drawing closer, they would see plainly who sat in the middle. With platinum white hair and metallic wings, sat Zalkyriax in his semi-elven seeming. Cithæra sat at his right hand, Valæra at hers. To the left of the Crownwyrm sat Phocion and to his left Vrædyn Princeps.
Upon reaching the inner sanctum, the Sentinel stepped to the middle of the pattern in the tile a few metres from the daïs and genuflected. When obeisances had been made, Zalkyriax spoke:
“You have walked a long path under your own auspices with marginal support from the realm. I deemed it ill-advised to commit resources to the outset of a quest that may come to nothing. You have now dismissed those concerns. How would you proceed?”