The Key To The Lock

"You interfere in matters that you do not understand. My goal is to obtain the artifact that he holds, if I wanted to kill him he and your wolf would have perished in town."

Severos had been stripped of all power and stood impressed but furious at the lack of it. A powerful wave had emanated from the area, straight eldritch chains of the Weave rising from somewhere deep. He saw it even as those chains wrapped around the Weave strands and began to pull, separating them into an ever growing area of void. And all of this in only six seconds.

He raised a hand to Lyra, slowly stepping slightly more in front of her. His arm was only mortal and could not sheath itself in power, yet it was the only protective gesture he could do. The young adept knew he was beaten. His anger had cleared, making him wish he had listened to Master Enanth's teachings a bit more. But now it was over.

"No, Lyra," he said. "This is something no one should come into. This is a very serious and dangerous discussion."

"You are clearly of superior power, Lord of the Land," Severos said to Phronesis. "By Azuth, I will not relinquish the Mortith. I will however protect it." He reached into his bag, stepping closer to the sphinx. Though he could no longer see it, he knew of the spellfire raging about the beast. His fingers closed around the papers as he continued, pulling them out to present to the sphinx.

"You may still protect the land from this. Just know, that while you watch over these pages, you will find me there as well. You will have to sunder my body before you are to part me fully of these pages, sphi-"

Somewhere, the smell of smoke.

Someone, cries of a billion throats.

Severos froze. Where there was none, now there was power. And it came from...

To all, they simply witnessed him freeze, scream out, and clutch his arm; the pages crinkled under a death grip as his veins stood in relief. To Severos, he witnessed a far more distressing and disturbing experience. The darkness had swallowed him and deep he had plunged, dragged forth into even darker voids by his hand.

((41 BCGD, ???)

The day was young but bloody ended. He stared across eternity to the knights surrounded by wights and undeath. He stared at them, confused. Why was he here? He looked up and understood what happened. The arcane sigils of dweomers lay in the sky above, some he did not know, others were the handwriting of Miekrannis College masters. And above all them, glowing in blood red and with purple eldritch veil shaped as an eye on a blood drop. The sigil was not one he had seen before yet it struck him as familiar.

Each of them had parted, power faint with a darkness hanging in an open portal above all.

He turned back, scene frozen. There was one that his eyes drew to, the man ravaged and covered by powers beyond the Fade. He felt... The same?

Is that person me, he asked.

Free... None can chain me.

((Present Day, 6 Seconds Later, Warfall))

The shock that crosses his face matched the surprise of all others. Then, impossibly, magic erupted from the young mage. But not arcane, its own resonance was much more dark. It would seem the sky was darkening as Phronesis weathered a gust of wind that should not have been strong against him. He threw both the wolf and priestess with ease.

He breathed the air.

Free.

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