《Chromatic Caverns》
Chapter 1 : The Cults of Ruben
Journal Entry 1049.
The 20th of Hammer, Deepwinter, Midnight.
Ruben City, The Slums.
Active Quest : Find the traces of cult activity within the slums of Ruben.
I have finally caught a trail connecting to the cultist¡¯s activity which lead me to the city of Ruben. I travelled alone overnight for several days to catch up to them here, and I plan to attempt to uncover their activities tonight. It is still unknown as to who they are and what their goal is, but their months of abducting people from the slums of cities needs to be brought to an end before it comes to fruition.
Jace Arcanis, Second Officer bearing the Golden Cross of the Platinum Shield.
Closing the journal, Jace places it beneath the sheets on the floor that make his bed in the room. The room is constructed with old planks, surrounded with the stench of rotten food and feces, and the only furnishing inside is the aforementioned sheets. He stands up smoothly and walks over the creaking planks to the crumbling frame of a glass-less window laden with snow.
Dressed in clothes that blend into the dark and cover his entire body all the way to just below his golden eyes. He stares into the shadowy alleys of the slums, watching the people move through the sleepless night. Exhaling softly through his mouth, the steam of his breath escaping through the fabric covering his face and rising into the cold winter air, he raises one foot to the misshapen windowsill which oddly ignores the pressure of his weight as he propels himself out and into the dark world.
The rats of the slums meander through the mixture of snow and dirt that cover the alleys, searching for the dead or rotten food both forgotten. But there is one area they avoid as if a plague even worse than the one they carry exists; an unseeable force keeping them away.
Men dressed in long cloaks decorated with multicolored scales move through this corner of the slums, the sounds of scale-mail clinking beneath their draped figures and their feet crunching on the snow. They carry gagged and unconscious people with them, collecting into the entrance of an unsuspecting, crumbling building.
A shadowy figure resting upon the supports above the ground of another nearby collapsed building watches attentively with two piercing golden eyes. He silently pulls out another journal of different color from the one earlier along with the tip of a broken quill that he holds firmly between his fingers.
2 alleys N of SE corner of slums. Cult of the Dragon.
The clumsy writing of an improper writing tool makes for only a short statement, which briefly becomes luminescent. After seeing that the words successfully illuminated, he closes the journal and stores it away again. Turning his attention to a ring on his right index finger, silver band with a black stone, he briefly whispers something incoherent causing the stone to emit a faint black light which ripples across his entire body turning him into a completely imperceptible living darkness.
He approaches the targeted building amidst the dark, feet not even crushing the snow. Monitoring of the nearby alleys tell him that there are no cultists outside, so he focuses his attention only on what is inside to determine the danger lying within.
Standing just near the entrance, but behind the door should it open, he listens closely for any sign of breathing or movement on the other side. He determines that there is nobody near the door guarding it as to avoid the attention of anyone who passes by. Not that anybody in the slums would care about suspicious people actually being there, but telling the guards might result in a little profit.
He stands up and presses his palm against the door, again muttering incoherent whispers. A ripple of transparency pulses over the door twice, once to remove the alarming spells and once to remove the sound of creaking wood and hinges. The door opens to a pitch black chasm with stairs descending. He promptly begins to climb down in the void without fear of the blinding dark but wary of the hidden traps that await him.
Deep below the surface of Ruben City lay the catacombs, filled with the ancestors of the city¡¯s inhabitants and ignorant of the existence of the cold world above it. A score of cultists gather in a large hall where at least a dozen unconscious men and women are strewn about.
The floor of the large hall is inscribed with the large white runes of a magic circle, all the unconscious victims are gathered within its borders. The room is illuminated by the flickering flames of torches held by a few cultists, but their lights fail to reach into the shadows of the corridors leading to this hall.
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Deep within one of these corridors, part of the shadows move as an impossible to notice figure watches their activities.
Catacomb, Hall, Approx. Y300. 12 victims, Magic Circle, Arcanine Chalk, 20 cultists. No leader yet.
Jace quickly writes in the journal, but closes it immediately to avoid the letters illuminating his whereabouts. He waits patiently for the leader of the cultists to appear, determined to slay him and escape to delay their activities until reinforcements arrive by word of his journal.
Moments later, the cultists are all gathered around the magic circle, the ritual most likely to begin soon. Jace still waits for the leader to reveal himself so that he can destroy the pillar of the ritual itself, clutching the hidden blade within his sleeve.
As he resolves himself to absolute stillness, relying on his shadow illusion spell to make him unnoticeable, he feels an oddness about him. As if waiting for this feeling to arrive, a voice suddenly whispers from behind him into his ear, ¡°It seems that you¡¯re waiting for someone, could it be me?¡±
Jace¡¯s eyes become panicked and he tries to dodge forward out of reach, but his body is immediately suppressed by a mountainous force. His shadow illusion spell is broken from contact with another person, and his body once more becomes perceptible.
¡°Ho? What peculiar eyes you possess, you must be a servant of the Platinum Shield. How unfortunate for you, I am not one of those haphazard cultists who do not practice precaution.¡± A deep, raspy voice comes from the mouth of a red draconic humanoid that presses down on Jace¡¯s body. Such incredible strength capable of holding him in place and eyes that could detect him from the shadows, no wonder this person isn¡¯t even human.
Jace can only struggle in vain against the draconic man¡¯s strength which negates any attempts to free himself, and watch as the incoherent speech of a sleep spell force their way into Jace¡¯s mind. Even as his vision fades he struggles with every ounce of power he can muster, but each spell is ruined by the claw pressing against his jaw and each movement is suppressed by the strength of the draconic man¡¯s body. He soon lays still from having sunk deep into a state of unconsciousness like the rest, the blade in his sleeve falling out of his grasp to the floor.
The deep raspy voice pervades the room once again, ¡°Put him with the others, a human is still a human even if they¡¯ve been blessed.¡± The cultists carry his limp body into the magic circle, dropping him without gentleness onto the floor. ¡°We will begin the teleportation at once, no need to wait until those pitiful Platinum Shield lackeys arrive.¡±
The cultists all take position around the circle, and the draconic man begins to chant incoherent words that reverberate through the air. The circle slowly begins to illuminate starting at the piece closest to the leader and making it¡¯s way around and inward. In a short five minutes, the entire circle is brightening the whole room, swallowing the bodies of everybody present.
The light immediately vanishes, and there is nothing remaining in the hall except for the flickering torches and scattered chalk dust of the magic circle. The light from the torches briefly flicker into one of the corridors, a small silver ring with a black stone and a discarded blade casts an unseen reflection into the catacombs.
Two days later, the footsteps of several people echo through the corridors leading into the empty hall. A woman equipped in polished and decorated steel platemail enters the hall, her golden eyes thoroughly looking at the remnants left behind. Her presence drowns away the dreariness of the catacombs with the aura of a valiant knight and the beauty of a black-haired goddess. Several other men and women dressed in chainmail enter behind her, beginning to collect the evidence.
One of the men approaches the woman with obvious anxiety, his hands fiddling with objects. ¡°O-Officer Mardia, I found these in the right corridor. I-I believe it b-belonged to Officer Arcanis..¡± The woman¡¯s sharp gaze stares into his outstretched hand, as if challenging the existence of the ring and dagger that lay there. Her face betrays any attempts at stifling her anger and worry, she snatches the objects out of the man¡¯s hands.
¡°We¡¯re returning.¡± The only words that have come from her mouth in several hours, creating an intensity about them. She turns and storms back down the corridor as if marching to a war that she cannot yet see. The rest of the men and women follow behind her nervously, a fear of accidentally invoking her anger hangs over their heads as they disappear down the dark of the catacombs again to find their way in the winter world above.
Chapter 2 : Those Who Wield the Dark
Throughout his years of work, the darkness was the closest ally Jace trusted, existing as both his armor and his weapon, giving him the best offense and defense against the prey he was hunting. But at times it was also the closest enemy he never trusted, operating as the armor and weapon of his opponent, making him feel the fear of the darkness for himself.
Jace knew that the dark was nothing more than a tool, void of any true maliciousness, much like the weapons he used to kill his targets. Their true power was nothing without the mind to perceive and abuse it.
He knew that once his duty was done, he could decloak himself of everything the dark represented in his work, and step back once more in to the light of the world. He could consider the accomplishments he achieved in the darkness, and tell himself that he had made the world just a little bit brighter. As long as he didn¡¯t fail, as long as he didn''t fall, this thought would be his solace...
But he had failed, and he had fallen.
He failed to maintain the upper hand against the leader of the cultists, and had let the darkness become the weapon that struck him down before he had struck down his enemy. He had failed to succeed, and therefore he would not be given the opportunity to escape the dark world he had embraced.
He would never again see the bright world where common families could grow old together and enjoy their lives free of those who brought destruction; he would never feel the joy of eating delicious sweets baked by charming women who felt pleased when their work was praised; he would never again share the love he felt for that stubborn woman who devoted herself to her work.
All around him is nothing but a never ending void of black, surrounding him in a blanket of nothingness. He felt lost and confused; afraid and worried. What fate awaited him, and what chance did he have to survive?
Do you wish to survive? A powerful voice trembled around him as if it was speaking down from a higher realm. It felt as though the voice of a god had entered into the world solely to speak to him, and he felt compelled to respond to it.
Yes, I wish to live. The simplest answer, void of any servility or pleading. It was his humblest desire expressed in a single phrase, but filled with the meanings of life he had experienced over his years. He may have been a man whose job was to create death, but he was also a man who knew the value of life more than any other.
Even if you wish it, what power do you have, mortal, to survive the dangers of the world? The voice stirred the contents of his mind, challenging his will to live. What power did he have to survive?
His power was the power of a mortal, but also the power of his beliefs. Blessed by a divine being who guided the Platinum Shield, he had achieved a degree of power above that of other humans. Yet still he had failed; still he had been defeated; and still he had been regarded as weak.
In the end, I am human. I am no being of power, but I desire to live nonetheless. It was true after all, even blessed, he did not possess true power. Especially before this god, what right did he have to claim that he had power?
To acknowledge your own weakness is but one step on the road to power. You have been blessed, and it was power you obtained. Yet still it proved ineffective, and you met your demise. Power is the status of all life, and its value is undeniable. You still have your life for now, but do you still possess the power to keep it?
I do not; not against that man.
Then I ask you this, Jace Arcanis, will you accept the power I give you in exchange for your service? With it you may survive, but without it you are surely doomed.
To offer him power in his moment of trial, and demand his servitude in exchange; what a cunning god he is.
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For this chance at life, I will accept your blessing and serve you, but the heart is not always as willing as the mind.
(Chuckle) That is fine. Then take this power I give you, and accomplish the task I have for you. With this life, you must conquer the Inferno Cavern. Should you fail in the end, it will instead be the Inferno Cavern which conquers you.
As if his mind had developed a sense of feeling, he felt like he was being sucked into a powerful vortex. The strength of the waters crushed and pulled him like the titans of lore. Deeper and deeper he went beneath the waves, being pulled into an abyss he could not see.
The naked body of Jace Arcanis was hung by the wrists off the ground, hovering above a large bowl resting there. The vitals of his body were slashed, the blood having already stopped pouring out of him.
Beneath, in the bowl, rested a large egg covered in the scales of a red dragon and marked by strange runic symbols which flashed every second with a demonic light. Magic circles spread over the floor around the bowl also illuminated, all pulsing with a strange rhythm. The blood within the bowl slowly began to drain until the bowl was empty of anything except for the egg.
The red draconic man stood in front of Jace¡¯s lifeless body, smiling at his work. ¡°How foolish all humans are, to accept power they cannot even comprehend. His mind is now mine, and his power will forever bend to my will. Do not worry my puppet, you will soon forget the very existence of that heart you mentioned.¡±
As though the chuckle of the god earlier was but an illusion, the same cackle permeated this physical room but with a more vile and sinister passion to it. It seems there is no god in this world who truly attempted to save Jace from the malevolent hands of this cult leader.
In a room lacking in sunlight, Officer Mardia stands near a shriveled old man who studies the dagger and ring belonging to Jace. The room is cluttered with books, vials of liquids, various ingredients, and many tools of the arcane. To acknowledge that this room belongs to a very well accomplished wizard would not take the likes of genius to figure out.
The old man settles the objects into a well-used cauldron, igniting a purple flame which fills the room with bursting heat beneath it. Strangely though, nothing else in the room seems to feel the heat as even the papers nearest the flame do not ignite. The old man begins adding in various ingredients and stirring the melted mixture within the resilient cauldron.
The woman stands behind him, sweating from the scorching heat of the flames, wishing that she was granted the same benefits as the paper on the floor. Yet she chooses to endure, as the value of the information this man can give her is worth more than anything to her.
As the old man moves over to a table, it rapidly becomes cleared as everything on top of it floats out of the way and into other areas of the room, a map sprawls itself over the surface allowing him to study it carefully.
He walks back to the cauldron, but with a remarkably beautiful quill. The tip is extravagantly decorated in artistic runes and gems, and the feather possesses many vibrant colors. He dips the tip of the quill into the cauldron, and removes it with a coat of the mixture inside.
The quill seems to desire to move towards the map as the runes on the tip illuminate and the feather glows with the power of acquired knowledge. As he brings the quill closer, it settles into the far north of the map creating a black splotch on the paper.
¡°Hoho, your friend seems to be in a pickle he does. Home of the Evil Dragons; Lair of Monsters; End of all Adventures; The Chromatic Caverns.¡±
The woman¡¯s face twists in confusion at first, but she quickly finds her determination. ¡°It does not matter where, as long as I know how to find him. If I have to search the Chromatic Caverns, then that is where I will search.¡±
She soon leaves the wizard¡¯s room as quickly as she came, not wasting any time by associating with him longer. The ring and dagger were bound to him, and the fact that they were able to return a location tells that he is still living. At the very least, she is not yet ready to give up on him.
Chapter 3 : Helpless Individual
In this world there exist three places regarded as extreme danger zones; titled as the Three Great Dungeons, they each carry a certain amount of respect and fear amongst the adventurers of the world. The Chromatic Caverns is one such dungeon among these three.
It¡¯s name comes from the existence of chromatic dragons that were brought into the world by the work of Tiamat. Stories tell that thousands of years ago a great temple had been built in service to Tiamat deep below the surface of the Feljnor Glacier in the deep north. Filled with the riches of empires and religions that had been undermined and destroyed by her worshipers, a sea of gold and gems so vast that it would be enough to construct an entire city decorated in them.
The Dragon Goddess was pleased with the temple and gifted it the eggs of her kin to guard the temple built in her name. However, dragons of their kind were never an existence that would kneel to a weaker existence. As they developed and gained their inherited power, they also developed and gained a sense of greed and pride. The worshipers of the temple became servants to the unruly dragons, and the wealth of the temple fell prey to their greed.
Their fighting over the wealth created vast caverns in the deep underbellies of the earth beneath the glacier. Overtime the hierarchy of the chromatic dragons guided their races into positions within the caverns, and each race claimed a portion of the temple¡¯s wealth for themselves.
As the years passed by, each area of the caverns created became a separate entity compared to the rest of the world around them. The power of a dragon¡¯s magic and intelligence displayed its might as the ecosystems of the caves developed into unique existences, creating the five known layers of the Chromatic Caverns.
Adventurers come from all around the world seeking wealth and fame, some finding it within, but many only discover the horrors that came to be deep below the surface.
The deepest layer of the Chromatic Caverns is known as the Inferno Cavern, domain of the fire dragons. Somewhere within this layer exists the legendary Temple of Tiamat, a place that no adventurer has ever laid eyes upon before.
Jace just may very well become the first human to see it as he is now deep within this fiery world. At least that would be the case if he was still human.
Four powerful limbs which stand firmly upon the ground; a solid torso of dense muscle; a long tail which whips the air; sharpened spikes trailing along the back from head to tail; and a draconic visage of ruthlessness.
Undeniable is the might of the red dragon, as they are the race which dominated the deepest layer of the Chromatic Caverns in an all out war amidst the other breeds. Both fearsome and cruel, they are solitary creatures who dwell within their established lairs. The only things of true value to them is their own well-being and their treasure hoards.
Jace has now become the entity which all other life forms of the cavern fear, and he will soon descend upon the world for himself to display his awakened potential. But now is not yet the time to do so, for he is but only a hatchling.
Finding himself amidst the ruins of a shattered egg, in the body of a red dragon whelp, and surrounded by a dark tunnel; he is confused. The eyesight of a dragon is not to be underestimated even in their infancy, and his image of himself is still clear enough for him to establish his situation and be confused by it.
This is the power granted to him? He had anticipated a feeling of power and strength which would let him escape his imprisonment from the draconic man he had fallen to, but this twist of events came out of the blue to him.
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His body feels limited, shrunken by the larger world around him. His limbs do not reach far, and his ability to move suffers from inexperience. His vision is contorted by the large snout in front of him, and his limbs feel weak against his own weight.
Worst of the moment is the hunger. His stomach demands nutrients, but the only thing around him is rocks. However, he still possesses the wit of a grown man and the mind to adapt to his situation. The training he has done within his lifetime has instilled within him bravery to accept challenge always and admit defeat never. Such is the reason why he accepted the deal with the god, and gave his chances to the unknown odds.
To conquer the inferno caverns? Perhaps. First he has to survive. Even though it is odd, and even though it is not ideal, he is a red dragon. To survive, he must first learn to live and experience what it means to be a red dragon. Otherwise his fate will not be to get killed by his enemy but rather by his own inability.
So with one tiny claw in front of the other, a new terror descends upon the subterranean world of the Chromatic Caverns.
Where he found direction, she felt lost. Even though her determination is firm, her mind is in shambles at the daunting task. To search the Chromatic Caverns? She did not truly possess the power to accomplish it.
There are adventurers in this world who possess power that stand mountains above her, and yet here she is wishing to stand as tall as they and march into one of the three most terrifying dungeons in existence.
As she sits there in the room they once shared together, occupying the chair he usually occupied, the anguish of feeling truly helpless brings forth silent tears from her eyes.
People say love is selfless, because true love does not consider your own feelings. To love someone is to only wish for them the greatest happiness and wellbeing, to sacrifice everything that you are for another person because you place their life above your own.
Her equipment laid scattered upon their bed waiting to be packed and taken away, but she can¡¯t even bring herself to move from the desk. Only holding on to a single pair of glasses which he used to read, she feels as though her own heart will break from the weight of possible failure.
Already in her thirties, her prime was going to come to an end and did not give her much time to reach the power she needed to find him. But oh she wished to find him, and she wished that she had the power. Lack of time.. lack of power.. She did not lack will. Even though she may die and even though he may die, at least she hopes they will die chasing each other.
*Knock knock knock* ¡°Officer Mardia, your attendance is required.¡±
¡ The Platinum Shield.. she will have to retire before she leaves.
She stands up adjusting herself, the tears on her face wiped away leaving only a red tinge in her eyes. She walks over to the door opening it wide, ¡°What are the details?¡±
¡°The Divine Commander demands your presence.¡±
Chapter 4 : Determined
The caverns are no simple place; each contains an entire world of life unique to itself. They cover large expanses of the underground, and are made up of dozens of different areas. If there is one thing to remember when exploring them, know that no matter where you are, you are never safe.
A lonely hatchling travels down the lengths of a long and dark tunnel system. They are as wide as they are tall, allowing room for creatures nearing up to ten feet in height. Always travelling in a slanted direction, the tunnels seem to be entirely omni-directional and without end.
The echoes of skittering dances in the air, and the rumblings of the earth fill the voids of silence. A strong smell floods the air with a noxious stench that it is unknown to the young whelp.
Jace has been trying to track down the creatures creating the skittering based on their echos, but he has not had much luck in finding the potential meal as the sounds seem to come from so many directions. At times his concentration lapses, and he can¡¯t help but ponder at the reality of his situation. Will he ever see her again?
Suddenly, Jace sees the meal that has been taunting him all this time. A rat the size of large cat skitters out into the passage in front of him, sniffing the ground ahead of him. His movements stop, and he watches it closely.
It¡¯s covered in a coat of black fur; only two black balls sit where its eyes are; and it¡¯s feet are strangely large. The nose of the creature flares constantly as if vacuuming the air around it with gluttony, and its feet drag on the ground with swift movements creating the skittering noise.
The rat continues to sniff as it moves forward slowly, inching in his direction. It seems the rat does not rely on its sight very much, because it hasn¡¯t yet reacted to his presence.
He hasn¡¯t tried running yet, so he isn¡¯t sure he could succeed in chasing down a rat, especially one that is nearly the same size as him. It is a wonder how a rat could become so dependant on its smell when such a strong stench fills the air, but perhaps relying on it Jace could remain undetected by this blind rodent.
Practicing his skills at remaining absolutely still and emitting no sound, he feels to himself as though he has become another rock in the tunnel. The rodent comes ever closer, finding its way towards him.
Nearer.. nearer.. It¡¯s almost within range of becoming Jace¡¯s first experience with using his new weapons. Targeting the neck, he locks his aim; repeatedly creating the visual of him crushing it his jaw while watching its movements.
The earth suddenly begins to shake causing the rodent to pause in its path just out of Jace¡¯s strike zone. He feels frustrated, but there is nothing he can do. Perhaps if he rushes at it, it will turn tail and out run him. If it decides to turn away at this point anyway, then attempting to run it down will most likely become his only option.
A hatchling staring down a rodent a few feet away from it, and a rodent pausing in motion as if waiting for something to happen. The earth lies still¡ and the rodent sniffs the air once. It continues its journey forward.
In truth, it is not that the rodent is incapable of smelling Jace, but that because Jace smells exactly the same as the strong stench that fills the air. Jace would not know that however, because a hatchling isn¡¯t very adept at smelling itself.
As the rodent enters his strike range, he lets it enter its optimal position. Jace explores the contracting muscles of his body; letting his mind get a feel for how far he can lunge, and how much he can contort his body to crush the vitals in the neck of the rodent.
The rodent sniffs, and suddenly Jace pounces. The vibration of the pounce ripples through the earth even though it is little, the rodent senses the feeling with its paws. But how can a rodent¡¯s reaction speed compare to the speed of a dragon, as little as he may be. Jace over shoots the rodent, missing it¡¯s neck, but his claws latch firmly onto the sides.
*Squeeee* The rodent¡¯s cry echoes through the tunnels, but Jace is not inexperienced in taking a life. He quickly crushes the neck with his jaw, smashing through the fur of the rodent as though it were a doll.
The rodent goes limp in his mouth, and the furred mass becomes prey to the newborn. Now comes the next challenge, figuring out how to eat it.
A dragon could probably eat raw meat without problems, but there is no need to make an unnecessary sacrifice. Jace begins to peal back the skin of the rodent, trying to make the raw meat inside reveal itself. It isn¡¯t until the majority of the husk of the rodent has been separated that he is satisfied with it.
As he settles himself in front of the butchered prey, he starts to feel around inside himself. To solve the mystery that is his own body and wield of the power of a red dragon. Perhaps.. He breathes deeply, a pool of air being vacuumed into him, and his chest swells in size.
Staring down at the rodent, he imagines it being bathed in flames, roasted to perfection. He closes his eyes, still visualizing the scene; a power surges through him, he exhales his lung capacity unto the meal, feeling the roar of his breath.
Upon opening his eyes again, the image of his work lays before him. The rodent is not burned at all. Perhaps he feels a little bit hotter, but that is the extent of his efforts.
The tiny hatchling hangs its head in shame, and accepts that his hunger far outweighs his desire to learn how to breath fire currently. Targeting the muscles and avoiding the digestive system of the rodent, his tiny dragon face tears into the body.
Perhaps it was the way he chose to eat or perhaps it is because of his new body, but he feels that at that moment he was more beast than human.
Within the Platinum Shield, the Divine Commander is not a person to be taken lightly. He is their leader, and the divine being who guides their efforts. To crush the cults of the evil gods is their aim, and to bring peace to the world is their goal.
She has only met with him once before and that was when she was receiving her blessing when she became an officer. All officers receive a blessing, but she was the first to receive the blessing of the Golden Cross. As the elder of her order of blessing, she became the representative on the Council of the Shield.
Through her missions and work within the organization, she became a very well known existence; far more well known than Jace. But her relationship with him was no secret, and the news that he had gone missing had probably reached many ears by now; along with the rumor that she was going to try to find him.
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As she walked forward through the platinum halls of their temple, her golden robe bearing the image of the cross, the symbol of her position on the council, glided along in the wind of her movements, her eyes revealed a very unwilling emotion.
If the Divine Commander were to give orders against her decision to go after him, she could not even imagine what would become of her life then. Even if it was an order from a figure she respected, she could not bear the thought of abandoning him while he still lives.
Standing before the doors of the Commanders Sanctum, the voice of a wise man of age rings through the air. ¡°Enter,¡± He speaks. Even though it sounds both gentle and kind, it also makes one feel the dignity and power of the one who reigns.
The doors covered by a shield bearing many symbols separate as they open inward, and her body unwillingly is made to walk forward into the presence of her current worst nightmare.
Sitting upon a throne of platinum is man decorated in a very regal robe. He bears every symbol that could be used to represent their organization, and wears each one with great style. His hair is long and orderly, like a river of precious gold; and his eyes feel majestic, a brighter gold than either her¡¯s or Jace¡¯s.
She walks forward beneath his throne, the doors close behind her. She kneels before him, her robe separating at the legs to reveal the white flesh of her calves.
¡°Kira Mardia, First Officer bearing the Golden Cross of the Platinum Shield, pays respect to the Divine Commander.¡±
¡°You may rise.¡± His hand makes a small motion upward which is in sync with the moment that she stands herself.
Her eyes falter for a second, before landing onto the Divine Commander. She does not know why, but the air around him feels odd. It does not feel stern or pressuring, and a smile hangs upon his face as if speaking of something unknown to her.
¡°Several days ago Officer Jace Arcanis went missing on a mission, is this correct?¡±
¡°Yes, Commander.¡± Her hand unconsciously clenches itself into a fist, and her eyes shake for a moment. But her voice speaks solidly, and her demeanour of absolute business does not diminish itself.
¡°And you are preparing for a trip to go find him, is this correct?¡±
¡°.. Yes, Commander.¡±
¡°You already know where he is, and are aware of the dangerous situation he is in.¡±
¡°Yes, Commander.¡± An inexperienced person might not be able to see it, but for the Divine Commander the sight is as clear as day. With each statement he makes, her fist shakes a little in anxiety. Anxiety for what he will say, and anxiety for what will become of Jace. Yet he does not emit any feelings of tension, only maintaining his calm smile as he watches her.
¡°Then you know that you are too weak. The Chromatic Caverns are not a place in this world that you can freely explore to search for a man you love. Even if there were a hundred scores of you, it would not be enough.¡± Now he spoke firmly. Firm and decisive, stating a fact that can not be shaken by any excuses or ¡®what ifs¡¯.
Her eyes can¡¯t help but stare down, and her heart beats erratically. ¡°I.. I..¡±
¡°You would run toward your own death, and sacrifice yourself in vain. Do you think that is what he would wish for you to do? Do you believe that killing yourself will make him happy?¡±
¡°...¡± The words in her heart feel choked in her throat. The words he speak pound away in her head, making her question herself.
¡°You may be strong here, Kira, but out there you are weak. It would not take the likes of a dragon to kill you, a few wolves would be enough!¡±
Her eyes can no longer contain her tears. Not tears of sadness or joy, but tears that weep in pity at her own despair. Even though she feels so weak, her body still stands rigidly, as if forgetting all of the material world around her. In her mind exist only the words he speaks to her, and the reality of her separation from Jace.
¡°Acknowledging all this, would you still go?¡±
This question causes her eyes to widen slightly, and make her feel even more confused.
He¡¯s asking me if I would still go? Even though I would surely die without achieving anything; even if I am nothing compared to the weakest of monsters; and even though Jace would surely be angry at me for it..
¡°(Whisper) I would still go..¡±
¡°Louder.¡±
¡°I would still go.¡±
¡°Louder!¡±
¡°I would still go!¡± The scream tore through her, like a tide of emotion that felt choked in her throat, it ruptured into the air. Her tears were now pouring in a river down her cheeks and neck, soaking into the robe below.
¡°Hahahaha! Good! Then prove your worth, Kira Mardia! Prove it not only to the world, but to yourself. We of the Platinum Shield worship Bahamut, Lord of the North Wind, King of the Good Dragons. No longer in my name, but in his name, you shall be blessed once more.
You have been chosen, and the power you obtain here will determine your fate there. To save Jace from his path of self-destruction, to lay waste to the domain of Tiamat¡¯s brood, or to fail and die to the wolves of the world. It all depends on you!¡±
The body of the Divine Commander suddenly burst into particles of golden light, filling the room with raw power. It expanded continuously into the high reaches of the ceiling; dancing in the shine of the sun shooting down from the glass windows; filling the enormous sanctum with its presence; and rematerializing as the body of a giant, golden dragon.