Chapter XLII: Cion Sky (Cont. V)
Donovan opened his eyes slowly, staring in awe at the rubble that loomed up a few feet from his head, a shattered skylight pouring light down on him as if he was in the light of God. “Wha?”
West hoisted the man up and pointed at the doors which had buckled under a second shot from Thyrus’ forcepike. Thyrus smiled happily, “I forgot to invert the z in the algebraic figures.”
Donovan slowly glanced over at the rubble again, “I don’t understand.”
Thyrus spat out some of his hair as it flapped up into his face, “The magical winds spiralling about the room have found their way out into the hall and are halting whatever is causing the collapse of the tunnel. Problem solved.” Thyrus smiled and turned as Blackheart stepped into the room.
“Look at this mess! What the hell happened in here?” The others followed him as they observed the rubble and the absolute destruction. All the doors leading to other rooms were blocked off by cascades of rubble and marble. Fire raged within the room, though much of it seemed to have disappeared from the frightful sight the group had seen charging down the hall.
“Baen, that is what.” The booming voice echoed down as the group turned to see another of the Watchers, a youthful looking man with long white hair held in a ponytail halfway down his back. He wore beautifully crafted red armor and held a great staff that was made of some unidentifiable black substance.
“Who are you?” Blackheart stepped to the lead again, the others falling in behind him and at the ready, in case this was another trick.
“My name is Maximus Leviticus. The great Watcher of Wisdom.” At the very name, the room trembled and Thyrus gasped with awe at the figure that stood before him with a regal and strong air.
Blackheart glanced around the room, “Where is he, then?”
Maximus glanced at the floor, “He has been banished to the underground caverns, where he shall never escape. It is a place that has been imbued with the magic of the ages, and it is there that he will remain forever.”
“And Adelia?” Blackheart knew the tone of the Watcher, it was one that was hiding a price.
“He drew her into the realm as one final blow to us. And we cannot follow there, for it is a place crafted for the imprisonment of Watchers. It is for that reason that we need your help.”
“What are you talking about?” West stepped forward, confused by the discussion, “Are you telling me that Baen was able to best you?”
Maximus ignored the question and focused his eyes on Blackheart, “Listen to me, rogue. You have your choice now. You may save Adelia, or you may let her go. The choice is yours as to what to do. Let her go, go after her. Either way, the choice remains with you and your seven allies.”
Blackheart searched the Watcher’s eyes; there was something more to all this, but Maximus wasn’t giving it away. “What are you hiding?”
Maximus ignored the question posed once more by the Preston, “There is no time for questions. I cannot explain. The choice is yours. I shall open the way to you, but beware, the prophecy still stands:
Nine strong shall stand and battle Baen,
With sword and bow and hand,
Seven shall the battle claim
And two alone shall stand.
Remember, and good luck,” Maximus said, waving his staff and bringing the head of it down in the center of the room and opening a tunnel that disappeared into a dark and forbidding void. “The choice remains to you,” Maximus yelled as the roar of the tunnel began to build up and roar into the room. And with a wave, he was gone like a streak of red.