A/N: So as I said in my note last chapter, I've begun the process of updating Destiny's Warriors. My original intent was to replace the original story, but after thinking about it, I decided I wanted to keep it around, if only for the memories. Anyway, if you're reading this and haven't already checked it out, please do, and drop a review to tell me if you think I'm screwing everything up. I would also like to point out that this chapter marks the end of the Nexus story arc. Thanks for bearing with it.
Chapter Eleven: Awakening
Simonee had only taken a few of the pink slivers from Aeriah's chest when he was joined by Krionoso and Erylian. He wasn't ever sure if the undead mage ever actually slept; whenever he'd gone to rouse Erylian for his watch or to get moving for the day, he always seemed alert in a matter of moments. This occasion seemed to be much the same, as he came rushing to the druid's side with his son in tow, looking no worse for wear comparatively.
"So what's the situation?" Erylian asked as he scanned over the wounds that Simonee was picking at.
Simonee sighed and plucked another crystal out. "I did a cursory inspection of the shards when I changed his dressings, and I found out that they seem to be infecting him with some sort of magical disease," he replied without taking his focus away from his task. "The crystals themselves seem to be some sort of arcane manifestation, like that creature we fought in the big hallway... and taking what we saw with the dryad and the ancient into consideration..."
Erylian had been scrutinizing the younger mage while he was speaking, with his mouth shut tight in a grim expression. "You think it's some form of mind control," he said, finishing Simonee's sentence. He picked up one of the shards from the ground and turned it around in between his thumb and index finger. "It's not a particularly happy diagnosis, I'll grant you, but I think it's sound logic."
"We need to figure out a faster way of getting these out, or removing the crystal's influence somehow. Every moment we spend puttering about is a moment that the disease has to run its course in his blood," Simonee said grimly. He gingerly removed another crystal. "I don't want to know if my theory is right. No one deserves something like that. Especially not him."
Krionoso tapped idly at his chin, thinking. "Well, what's the antithesis of pure arcane energy?" he asked. Simonee looked at him for a second before returning to his work. They both knew the answer to that. It was well documented that while similar, fel magics were of decidedly opposing energy. Just knowing the answer to the question wasn't enough, though. There were no demons here, nor any warlocks—and on top of that, Simonee didn't relish the idea of introducing fel magic to Aeriah's body. There were too many variables in Krionoso's proposal.
Simonee shook his head. "That won't work," he said. "There's no telling what that would do to him, even if we had a source of fel energy. There's got to be another way... something with less risk. Erylian, is there anything you can tell from the crystal?"
The undead had been staring into the crystal for the few moments since he'd agreed with Simonee's initial thinking, probing into the prism with his own arcane inspection. "There may very well be something to his thinking," he said, flicking his eyes to meet Simonee's. "The signature of the magic is very erratic... unfocused. I think it might be having trouble matching to his physiology, and that can work to our advantage. I believe we might be able to flush it out of his system by flooding it with a more stable arcane energy."
"Has something like that been tried before?" Krionoso asked, his jaw dropped open slightly at the mere thought of it. "And what would that do to him? It's not fel magic, sure, but it's still magic, and that's got to have a side effect..."
"That just means we'll have to be especially careful. It's our best shot at neutralizing this thing," Erylian replied. His eyes were focused on Simonee, narrowed slightly as if he was trying to will the younger mage to agree. "It's certainly better than letting this thing run it's course."
Simonee sighed. This wasn't something he was trained for, and he doubted even the most skilled healers wouldn't be hard-pressed to find a solution that was completely without radical thought. He didn't like the solutions he was presented with, but of the two, he trusted in the arcane more than he did the fel, and they had an abundance of the former. Even if they did manage to remove all of the crystal splinters in a timely fashion, there would still be the likely event that the magical poison would still be potent enough to seriously harm the druid. There were times for thought, and times for action, this was definitely in the second camp. Taking in another breath, he prepared himself. It was times like these that he wished one of his party was a practicing healer, if only for a more experienced second opinion.
"Alright, fine, let's do it. We're running out of time," he grunted. He yanked the last sliver from Aeriah's chest wounds and gently set him back against his bedroll. Erylian nodded and shifted over slightly to take up position at the druid's right side. Krionoso knelt down at Aeriah's head and Simonee readjusted so that he was across from Erylian.
Erylian took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. Center yourself and keep calm. Any deviations in concentration could be potentially worse than whatever these crystals are doing to him," he said as he took Aeriah's arm in between his hands. The limb hung limp at the wrist and regret bit at Simonee for letting his friend recklessly charge ahead. He lifted the left arm and closed his eyes, beginning to concentrate.
Immediately, he was bombarded with the same energy he saw and felt inside the small crystal sample, but magnified. He stifled a gasp and pressed gently against it with a steady pulse of his own magics. It gave slowly, resisting at every turn as he continued the pressure. He felt the reassuring presence of Erylian's magic humming in his mind, and it steadied his thoughts. With every breath, Simonee pushed further and further into the invasive foreign magic. Hours passed in silence as the two mages continued the spell, while Krionoso looked on, monitoring the druid's status. The night stretched on.
It had been weeks before the priests of Astranaar allowed Aeriah to leave his bed. They told him he'd suffered from mostly-superficial burns across the front of his body, as well as a fairly major concussion from his collision with the massive tree's roots. He had recovered quickly from the burns, but they were concerned about the concussion and as such kept him under supervision for the following days and weeks. All he could bring himself to think about was his failure to protect Liralei. He had stared down the undead monster behind his house and buckled under the pressure. He had forgotten all of his druid training and cowered at the abomination's attack. He let her down. He let her die.
The thoughts tore at Aeriah day in and day out while he lay in his confinement, and nothing anyone did could bring him out of his stupor. When the day finally came that the priests let him go, another thought began to creep into his mind like black mold devouring a wheel of cheese. He nurtured the idea while he absentmindedly picked his way back to his home, stumbling through the brush and trees. It had fully consumed him when he saw the aftermath of the wayward undead's attack. Ashes were all that remained of the abode, and the surrounding grasses were singed black by the fire that had claimed it. A stark char mark even stained the tree that stood guard over it. He gritted his teeth and swore that as long as he lived, he would do whatever it took to see that the Scourge would be swept from the face of the world. He would take vengeance. For Liralei.
He took to traveling, following any clues he could find regarding Scourge holdouts and encampments. He continued to hone his body and mind, recalling all the teachings his shan'do had imparted upon him. He strove to never again lose his nerve in battle, as he made his way to the Eastern Kingdoms.
Aeriah had taken a boat chartered to land in the marshlands north of the dwarven kingdom of Ironforge. The autumn sun was setting low against the horizon, and the sky had turned dazzling colors in response. Aeriah was sick of the inactivity that came with sea travel, and decided to eschew staying in the port for the night. As the sun disappeared and night took over, he set out down the path, turning north when it forked. The creatures of the swamp gave him a wide berth as he traveled in his feline form, prowling the road with his eyes alert. At some point during the night, he'd stopped and rested, and in the morning continued onward, ever north. He had been told of a land lost to the Scourge, an old human kingdom named Lordaeron. Aeriah was vaguely familiar with the name, but hadn't ever visited the land in its original splendor. The tales that were told of it lately called it by a different name—one that betrayed the nature of it now.
During his trek toward Lordaeron, he'd met a young man who had told him of his own struggles when the Scourge attacked the nearby high elf city of Quel'thalas a scant few years back, and then the magic city of Dalaran. He was moving gradually south using funds he built up doing jobs along the way. The mage had been making for Stormwind City, and offered for Aeriah to join him and forget about the Scourge, but the druid declined. He was on a hunt, and nothing would deter him from his mission. Leaving the young mage for his own journeys, Aeriah continued on.
When he first saw what had come to be known as the Plaguelands, Aeriah's rage washed over him fresh. Nature no longer had a place here... death had taken reign. The choked land was a sickly shade of brown, and a thick miasma of dust and decay hung like a heavy fog across the entire region. It smelled of the foulest rot. It was all he could do to keep his stomach from turning as he continued further into Lordaeron.
Upon his arrival in the Plaguelands, it hadn't taken him long to find a den full of the undead monstrosities of the Scourge. Large insect-like creatures prowled in front of what had once been a small village, while skeletons in piecemeal armor and robes wandered aimlessly through the roads and alleys separating the buildings. Day by day, he laid siege to the forces alone, narrowly avoiding his fate time and time again as he laid the beasts low. When he could no longer fight, he retreated and recovered until repeating the process the next day. Despite his efforts, the number of Scourge combatants never seemed to deplete. He realized in the middle of one such assault that he began to recognize some of the skeletons he had already put down, their armor showing fresher signs of struggle and obvious marks of his own doing.
When he noticed that, he realized that somewhere in those ruins had to have been a necromancer, continuing to raise the Scourge from their second- and third deaths at the druid's hands. This would not stand. With a determined stride, Aeriah moved quickly and quietly through the town. He checked inside what houses still stood, going so far to even wander down into the musty basements in his search. The very last place he looked was the last house on the main lane. The wooden frame had been worn down and was on the verge of collapse underneath the weight of the thatched roofing. Paint peeled away from the walls, leaving streaks of bare, rotting wood open to the elements. Inside, dust and debris were settled across the den; a smashed table lay in the center, and toppled bookcases left their contents splaying all over the floor.
Aeriah continued into the building, confirming that the first floor was empty. Carefully, he ascended the stairs to the second level. The wooden steps creaked with age and misuse as he crossed them, and he winced at the noise. He held his staff up defensively as he finished climbing and turned the corner. A door at the end of the corridor was ajar, and from within he could hear distinct chanting and the hum of magic. He had found his necromancer. With barely-contained hatred, he swiftly covered the distance in a low crouch and softly opened the door the rest of the way.
The necromancer was dressed in black robes that seemed to absorb the very light of the room, casting it into a shadowy mire. Runes were scrawled along the floor and walls in thick lines, and to Aeriah's disgust, had been drawn in blood. The necromancer himself was a frail-looking creature. Grey flesh barely concealed the skeleton beneath, and his outstretched fingers ended in fleshy talons in place of the fingernails that should have been there.
Just as the druid crossed quietly into the threshold, the necromancer's neck twisted unnaturally to bore his gaze directly into his eyes. A blue flash played across it's own deadened eyes.
You are mine.
The process of cleansing the magical poison was leaving Simonee drained. He and Erylian had been at it for what seemed like a lifetime. At some point, Simonee sensed that the rest of the group had roused themselves, but they refrained from trying to engage him. Krionoso had probably tended to that. Whispered conversation played at Simonee's ears, but he let it pass without regard. He was lost in the spellwork at this point, and he wasn't about to let anything happen to his friend... especially not anything that he had a hand in.
For as long as it had taken them, Simonee could finally feel the foreign magic relenting and he knew that it wouldn't be much longer before Erylian's haphazard plan actually worked in excising it. There were barely any traces of the magic left in the druid when he started to stir in Simonee's grasp. The movement stretched his resolve to its limits, but he continued in spite of it. Only when he was satisfied there was nothing of the crystals' influence left, did he—very carefully—remove his own before opening his eyes.
Almost simultaneously, Aeriah's eyes had begun fluttering open as well. The silver glow was dim, and occasionally Simonee thought he could see flecks of blue play across it, but disregarded it as an effect of his exhaustion. He yawned and stretched his aching muscles, which protested after the long period of stillness. When Aeriah began to sit upright on his own power, Simonee offered a tired smile. His friend would survive, after all.
The druid winced as he braced his weight on his arms. He looked down at the blisters forming on his chest and swore. "Whose idea was this?" he asked with a coarse voice.
Simonee continued to smile as he replied, "Well, Krionoso did what he had to. You would have bled out otherwise."
Aeriah grimaced as he looked back at Simonee. "Remind me to never take up a mage if he offers to heal me," he grumbled. The druid looked around the campsite briefly, and Simonee followed suit. The party was indeed awake, and they all wore relieved expressions as they noticed Aeriah glancing at them. He finally rested his eyes on Erylian and recoiled. "You!" he spat.
Erylian backed up slightly at the venom in the druid's voice. "Me?" he asked, taken aback. Confusion played across his features as the druid sat up straighter.
"I don't know how I never realized before... but it was you!" Aeriah struggled to stand, but Simonee firmly pushed him back down.
"You're not in any condition to stand right now," he admonished, sparing a questioning glance at Erylian, who shrugged in response. He looked at Aeriah again. "What's going on?"
Aeriah spun his head and the fury in his eyes caused Simonee to jump. "He's the one who killed my shan'do!" he shouted. The rest of the party had begun walking over as he began to wake, but promptly stopped at the outburst, collectively gasping. The druid pointed directly at Erylian and continued, "He murdered my mate, and destroyed my home... it's all his fault!" Tears began to streak down the elf's cheeks, but his anger didn't diminish.
Simonee turned to Erylian again, his head spinning with what his friend was telling him. "Is it true?" he asked, quietly.
Erylian looked as confused as ever. "I don't know. It's quite possible that when the Lich King resurrected me that I... maybe," he sputtered. "I couldn't know that, but if it is true, then I can only offer my deepest apologies..."
Simonee wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, his eyes and his sore muscles burned, and the focus he had spent on the spell was taking a toll on his ability to follow the conversation. He sighed. "Look, when we're out of here, we can talk about this, but right now is not the time to accuse each other and fall apart. Just calm down and relax as best as you can. We're going to need you at your best if we're going to have a chance of getting out of here alive," he said, appealing to Aeriah's sense of reason. He softened his tone before speaking again, "We need you, Aeri."
"Fine," Aeriah spat after a few moments of silence. He raked his gaze at Erylian. "But as soon as we're finished here, I'm leaving all of this behind. If you insist on traveling with this... this murderer, then I want nothing more to do with it."
With his last remark, Aeriah settled back onto his bedroll and closed his eyes again. The tears had stopped, and the streaks they left behind began to dry. Simonee rubbed his eyes, the exhaustion continuing to settle in. After another moment, he stood and walked to where the group had convened. Erylian had already rejoined them, rubbing his chin with a finger. Simonee regarded him a moment, feeling his own hackles rising at old memories he'd pushed aside since Dalaran's relocation. Erylian had offered apologies and explanations regarding that particular incident, but it still pained Simonee to think about it. At some point, he would have to confront the elder mage again, but at the moment they were working toward similar goals, and any further distractions would not help the matter.
"Garret, if you would please, see what you can do for him," he said, reaching out and grabbing the shaman's large shoulder. "The sooner we can move, the better off we'll be, I think."
Garret appraised him for a brief moment before nodding. "I agree. I do not feel comfortable in this place," he said, already beginning to step toward the druid. Simonee watched him as he knelt down next to Aeriah and began to mutter to himself.
He hadn't realized he'd been staring until Aubs cleared her voice. "You know, you look like you're about to collapse," she said. "Why don't you go relax for a while. Garret's got Aeriah covered, and we can keep watch."
Simonee nodded. He certainly felt like he could collapse. He wobbled a bit as he fought against his tired muscles, and everything ached. It had been a very long time since he spent so long in his spellwork; not even the teleportation spell that brought Dalaran to Northrend had taken as much time. Tiredly, he began to shamble to his bedroll, before noticing that the fire in the center of the camp had begun to peter out. Nearby there was a small pile of the ancient 'firewood' they had liberated from the infected behemoth. Streaks of pink cut through the otherwise ashen colored wood, and crystal shards jutted out at irregular angles in places. He took a few pieces of it and layered it over the top of the ashes that were collecting beneath the flames. Sitting down next to the blaze, Simonee poked at it idly with a stick until the fire finally caught onto the new planks, before a thought came to mind. There had been doubts in his mind regarding using the ancient for their fire, and the doubts had only intensified with the scare they'd had with Aeriah. He scowled. They didn't have any other firewood and he wasn't about to cast any more spells until he'd been able to recover from his efforts with Aeriah. Stewing in his thoughts, he continued to absentmindedly poke at the fire, glaring at the pinked tips of the flame.
This trip was certainly turning out to be much more of an ordeal than he'd been expecting. That curious mage scholar in the Kirin Tor camp had told them very vaguely what they would find within the Nexus, but Simonee wasn't sure how they would have been able to better prepare on that information alone. He realized angrily that he should have asked for more detailed scouting reports from the spies they'd sent in. He should have pressed for more information before being unceremoniously tossed out of the hut. Guilt nagged at him as he thought of Dagerly's sacrifice. The rogue would still be alive if they'd had more information to go on before they entered. Nothing could have prepared you for that, a voice in his head chimed. Simonee wanted to believe that, but he knew better. He had left his idealism behind in Westfall.
More regret came pouring in as he thought about Hoardale. The warlock had offered to stay behind to help protect Sentinel Hill while Simonee took Krionoso and Dagerly to learn where the Defias operated from. He'd put up a valiant effort but fell to one of the bandits just as Simonee and his strike team returned. If they'd moved faster, he could have saved his friend. Simonee had kept moving forward after that day with the knowledge that if he gave events much thought, he would do exactly what he was doing now; falling into self doubt and despair. With Aeriah out of commission and the necessary subsequent stop, he had nothing but his thoughts to fall back on.
Simonee shook himself out of the past and tried to focus more on the future. If and when they got out of the Nexus, what would be next? Where would they go, what would be asked of them? For as much as he dearly wished he could go home afterward, something in his gut told him that there would be more. As it was turning out, there was always more. Simonee didn't regret rescuing King Wrynn from the Defias, but that act had put him deeper than he wanted to be in the events of the world. After Quel'thalas, all he wanted to do was get away from it all, live a simple life in a small town and keep away from the horrors he'd witnessed. Yet now, here he was, in Northrend, the very seat of the Scourge. He'd kept himself collected, but he felt parts of his mind fraying at the seams. All he wanted now was the same thing he'd wanted then, to get himself and his companions out of this situation alive.
A hand at his shoulder took him away from his thoughts. The stick he had been using to prod at the fire was beginning to smolder at the tip, and a small pink flame was beginning to climb the length of it. Noticing this, he dropped his poker into the fire. Aubs was at his side, looking worried at his apparent lack of attention.
"For as long as I've known you, I haven't ever seen you space out like this. Is everything okay?" she asked as she settled in beside him.
Simonee looked at his fellow mage. He still remembered how she'd joined his merry band, muscling herself in after he stopped a Defias man from robbing her. Aubs was of sterner stuff than he'd expected, and even back then, Simonee could sense that the willful young woman would have a bright future ahead of her. The first time they'd met, her blonde hair was sheared short, but he began to notice now that it was growing long, held firmly in a ponytail. Her bangs were loose, fluttering about her face in the heat of the fire.
"I'll be fine, I think," he told her as he returned to staring into the fire. He didn't really know if he believed himself, but he didn't want her to worry about it. "Just thinking about things."
Aubs continued to consider him. "Like what?" she asked.
Simonee chuckled. He could always count on Aubs' curiosity and boldness to make things interesting. "Like what's going to happen once we get out of this place. Haven't really put much thought into anything since King Wrynn told us to find Krio. Just been going along and thinking as little as possible," he replied.
The camp was silent save for the crackling of the fire and Garret's muttering. "And what do you think is going to happen?" Aubs asked, turning her head to follow his gaze into the fire. Simonee couldn't put his finger on it, but he sensed that there was more to the question than had appeared on the surface.
He shook his head. "I don't know. I was never especially gifted at seeing into the future. You'd probably get a better answer from Garret," he chuckled.
Aubs smiled. "Well, I wasn't asking about the concrete future. I was asking for your thoughts."
Simonee pondered the question for a moment. He hadn't really come up with anything; everything lately was so uncertain that he wouldn't really be surprised if Deathwing himself would come tearing back through Azeroth soon. He sighed before responding, "I think that the Aspects and King Wrynn have more planned for us than just this. Something tells me that this is only the beginning of a very long stay in Northrend."
"Hmm," Aubs grunted, nodding. "What about the group? I've never seen Aeriah like that, and I don't think he's bluffing about leaving after we finish here."
The thought of that had been weighing on Simonee's mind as well. He had known the druid for a very long time now, longer than anyone else who was still traveling with him. Despite that, he very seldom went into detail about anything that happened before the two of them met. Simonee didn't know anything about his friend's teacher... or that he'd had a mate—and judging from the reaction he'd given Erylian after he woke, he now realized it was a very sore memory that he'd either forgotten or repressed so deeply that it was like enough to forgetting.
"Now that's one I really don't know about. I'm going to talk to him when he's up for it... but I agree with you. He definitely seems intent," he replied after another moment. He took a look around the campsite. Everyone had settled back down since Aeriah's outburst. Krionoso and Erylian were speaking to each other away from the camp, and Garret continued to quietly tend to the druid's blistering wounds. Occasionally he thought he saw Aeriah speaking, but he couldn't quite tell, being on the opposite side of the fire. "How are you feeling?" he asked, centering his vision back on Aubs.
She chuckled and looked at him. "And here I was thinking you weren't noticing," she said before her face fell into a small frown. "Anxious, mostly. Everything just seems to want to fall apart. Feels like something's waiting for the exact worst moment to start pulling at threads. I just hope we can keep it all together until it's all over. If it's ever over."
Simonee nodded. "I trust you all to do just that," he said. "And despite everything that's happened here, I hope you all still trust me. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't anxious too, but we've got to keep ourselves strong... or we'll fall apart like you're afraid of."
Aubs smiled again as she spoke, "Well, I can't exactly speak for everyone else, but I still trust you. Hasn't been a mess you've gotten us into that we haven't walked away from yet, and-"
She was cut off by motion across the camp. Simonee swiveled his head to look and saw that Aeriah had stood up, pushing Garret away. Instantly, his exhaustion faded and he warily stood. "What's going on?" he called to the druid.
Aeriah looked at him and sneered slightly. "We aren't alone. We need to move. Now," he said in a low growl.
Simonee hesitated a moment before he came back to his senses and sprang into action. Something about Aeriah was decidedly off, but he still trusted his friend enough to follow his suggestion. He quickly doused the fire and packed his things, before swinging his pack back across his shoulders and hefting his staff. The rest of the group had collected themselves likewise, and before too long they were prowling through the corridors ahead, looking for whatever had triggered Aeriah's senses.
The garden sprawled further across the next hallway, but as far as Simonee could tell, there wasn't anything living within aside from them. The crystalline trees shimmered slightly in the light of the blue arcane lamps that floated lazily around the walls, and it almost looked like they were responding to some sort of breeze that he couldn't feel. The silence of the corridor was disorienting, as the party's footsteps echoed the length of it and back again. They pressed on slowly, eyes open and alert for any sign of motion.
"What did you feel?" Simonee whispered to Aeriah, who'd taken the lead after dressing himself in a spare tunic. His wounds didn't seem to be bothering him, despite the coarse fabric of the shirt rubbing against them, and he moved with the same practiced grace as he ever did.
"I don't know," the druid admitted as he continued to scan the hallway. "Whatever it is, it seemed pretty powerful."
Satisfied enough by the answer, Simonee nodded and continued to follow behind. They reached the other end of the hall without incident and rounded the corner into a grand looking room. It was reminiscent of the entry hall, but distinctly different. This was apparently the culmination of the gardens. Trees sprawled across the open area, lining an apparent path that led to a set of stairs. At the top of the stairs towered the biggest ancient Simonee had ever seen. Pink crystals pierced through its wooden body all over, jutting out into wicked points that glittered in the light. Its eyes were open, but immobile as it stared directly ahead of it into the wall. Blue flecks played across them in intervals, like water lapping at the shores of a beach. At its legs was a blue drakonid, which seemed to be inspecting the ancient as it circled around. In the dragonkin's hand was a pike with a blade made from the hall's condensed arcane crystals. Its plate armor had been dyed a deep black, and golden embellishments swirled across the trim. It seemed to Simonee that this was a high-ranking member of Malygos' forces.
Simonee tensed at the sight and his muscles burned in reply; the soreness from the 'night' previous wouldn't be likely to wear off for quite some time yet. He winced, but kept quiet despite himself. Aeriah hissed and brought his hand up to the necklace he wore. Moments later, a burly brown bear stood where he had been. Simonee hazarded a look at the bear and noticed thick patches of fur that were missing from the bear's back and sides. He didn't know if that would ever be replaced, or if Krionoso's emergency treatment made that impossible.
A thought occurred to Simonee and he grasped the fur at the bear's shoulder. Aeriah snarled at him as he did, but the mage continued to hold on.
"No. We're doing this together. The last time you ran off ahead, you nearly died. I'm not going to let that happen again," Simonee whispered. Aeriah continued growling for a moment before he dipped his head for a moment and focused back ahead again. Simonee released the druid and waved the group forward. He quickly ran through the options they had as they prowled toward the ancient and its dragonkin handler. He didn't relish the thought of trying to bring the massive wooden being down considering the trouble they'd had with the one from the day before. He felt that taking out the smaller target would definitely be the more prudent choice in this situation, so that they could then focus all of their efforts on to the ancient.
He relayed this to his team quietly. They nodded affirmation, and Simonee took a few deep breaths, collecting himself. He only hoped that the cleansing he and Erylian had effected wouldn't be too big a burden on his spell casting. His head was still slightly muddled, but it was marginally better now than it had been.
Another couple of seconds passed and they were directly ahead of the ancient and its keeper. The dragonkin sniffed around, suddenly aware of the intruders' scent. He turned and faced them, his face contorting in a wicked grin.
"Ah, a perfect test of our weapon!" he called out as he placed a scaly hand on the ancient's wooden leg. "We thought maybe you had fallen to that insignificant witch Telestra. So glad to see we were wrong."
As the drakonid fell silent, a terrible creaking sound rang out through the room and the ancient came to life. Crystals began to shatter against each other as it stirred, testing the hinges of its limbs as if it hadn't used them before. Beneath it, the broken pieces bounced harmlessly off of the dragonkin's head. Or rather, a few inches above it. Simonee silently cursed. Magic shielding.
The dragonkin barked a harsh laugh and winked out of existence as he teleported away, leaving just the monstrous ancient staring down at the group. So much for the plan, Simonee thought as he brought his staff to bear. The thunderous creaking began again as the ancient stepped forward to crush them. Wordlessly, they scattered as a giant arm arced through the air and slammed against the ground. The strike reverberated through the floor and Simonee's teeth chattered within his skull. Without another hesitation, he called on the arcane and began his assault.
Aeriah had closed in on the ancient's leg, raking his claws furiously against the crystal-marred bark and tearing large chunks of it away. He only barely missed impaling himself on chunks of the pink masses as he swiped, but Simonee couldn't allow himself to worry about that for very long, as his spells began taking shape. With the magic fire tearing through his arms, he lashed out, sending boulders of flaming rock at the beast. They clashed against the ancient's body, leaving smoldering craters in the wood. After a few such attacks, he felt the disorientation wash back over him again as his weariness caught back up with his mind. He faltered for a moment and the ancient took advantage. An arm swept through the air and battered the mage away. He fell to the ground several feet away and his body exploded in pain. Despite this, he willed himself to get back up, stumbling and dazed.
The rest of the party seemed to be faring better. Garret sent powerful surges of lightning into the ancient with every strike of his hammers, and the ambient energy in the air caused the small hairs on Simonee's neck to stand straight. Each blow seemed to suck the light out of the room as sparks exploded from the ancient's legs. Erylian had taken cover behind a crystal tree, flinging spells from both hands that simultaneously singed the ancient's bark with thin bolts of flame and impaled it with sturdy conjured ice.
Simonee collected himself and reentered the fight. He reached inward for the last dregs in his reserves and focused his attention. His eyes were clamped shut, and he felt the rush of power as he prepared his spell. Before he could set it loose, another crushing blow sent him sprawling again. Through the ringing in his ears he could hear shouting, but he couldn't quite make out what was said. Simonee felt the air grow cold, and harsh winds tore at his robes. He struggled to open his eyes again and saw that together, Aubs and Krionoso had summoned a ferocious storm of ice shards that pelted the ancient and blinded it. A thick white mist enveloped the area, and the only thing Simonee could see was the reflections of pink light that played off of the crystals.
Simonee gritted his teeth and rose to his feet again. His sides were screaming at him in wracking pains, but he felt nothing suggesting that bones were broken, for which he was grateful. He set himself into focus again and once again concentrated on the spell he began. Swirling flame rose from the ground at his feet and protected him from the swirling vortex of frost magic. He mentally made a few adjustments to his spell and breathed in.
He opened his eyes again and exhaled, sending the spell to its destination. The storm began to abate and he could see Aubs and Krionoso panting, spent. They looked at where the ancient had been standing, and dismay spread across their faces when they noticed it still standing tall. Swaths of bark were missing and tall spires of ice now joined the pink crystals that stuck out like so many jagged knives. Parts of it continued to smolder, and its legs were charred black from Garret's lightning, but still it stood. The shaman and Aeriah had retreated, finding shelter from the storm behind the same tree Erylian had been taking cover. The party had fallen back from the landing upon which the ancient stood, leaving Simonee standing alone with it. The ancient's second blow had sent him to the back of the room, close to the far wall.
The ancient took a step toward him before it stopped moving altogether. Simonee held his breath. A dull thump shook the ancient and the floor beneath him. Then another. Suddenly, the behemoth's chest began to expand. The wood creaked and groaned as it tried to hold back the spell's reaction, but splintered apart as the strain of it became too much. With a thunderous crash, the beast's chest split apart, raining charred wooden splinters in Simonee's direction. Thinking quickly, he raised a small barrier of ice with the very last of his energy and hid behind it. Tinkling crystal shards bounced harmlessly off of the barrier and clattered to the ground, alongside the remnants of the ancient's thick chest. When he was satisfied the last of the debris had fallen, he exhaled and surveyed the damage.
The ancient still stood, but was locked in mid-stride. A hole, inches wide, had split its chest diagonally from shoulder to hip in nearly a clean sever. The creaking of the wooden creature in motion rang out again and Simonee gasped. His eyes widened as it took another step toward him. Before it could take yet another, it toppled to the ground. The massive body crashed down in a cacophony of terrible sound, and the ringing returned to Simonee's ears. A ripple of kinetic energy cascaded through the material of the platform and the mage lost his footing. From his prone position, he looked on in a combination of anticipation and worry, staring down the ancient's corpse as if daring it to rise again. Seconds passed before he allowed himself to breathe again. His dry, raspy breaths alerted him to the fact that he was suddenly very parched.
Slowly, the rest of his party approached the platform, warily eyeing the ancient's fallen body. When they too were satisfied that it wouldn't get back up and try to crush them, they rushed to his aid. Aubs propped his head up on her lap and Garret began to feel his arms and sides for broken bones. His inspections shot flares of pain through him, and he winced. Maybe nothing seriously broken, but these bruises are going to be legendary.
Aeriah had been standing apart from the rest of them, leaning against a wall with his arms folded across his chest as he watched. Simonee noticed as something seemed to get his attention, and almost immediately the druid abandoned his aloof stance and began to look around. A soothing sensation flooded his sides and he looked back at what Garret was doing. An aura surrounded his hands, the same color as a clear stream. The spell he'd cast was over quickly, but Simonee felt much better. The pain receded to a dull ache and no longer did he feel like he would split apart at the slightest touch.
"You know, I think you're just about cut out to be a healer," he joked, as he gingerly poked at his ribs.
Garret chuckled and shook his head. "At this rate, I may just need to be," he replied. The shaman helped Simonee to his feet, and the mage looked again at Aeriah. He was continuing to scan the room as if he was looking for something in specific. Something had been off about his friend, and he was going to figure out what it was. Simonee began to walk over to confront him.
Without warning, the druid darted into an almost-hidden passage in the wall beside Simonee, and the mage fell into pursuit. The path wound like a snake through the icy wall, and Simonee brushed past jagged edges through the turns. When the tunnel opened up again, Simonee was astounded. They had gone in a complete circuit around to the other side of the entrance hall. Aeriah continued sprinting, disappearing into the central hallway across from the path that led out. Simonee followed close behind, nearly colliding with the druid when he finally came to an abrupt halt.
Collecting himself, Simonee gasped when he realized what caused Aeriah to stop. They had come to yet another gigantic room in the Nexus with high walls that seemed to be braced by thick metal panels. Unfamiliar runes had been carved from the metal and Simonee marveled at them. Bright blue orbs rested on top of small pronged altars, similar to the one he'd seen upon entering the Nexus. These orbs were slightly different, however; he didn't sense any magic from these ones, but despite that, they glowed with a bright aura. Yet none of that held his attention quite as well as the centerpiece in the room.
Towering above them, reaching almost to the ceiling, was a massive chunk of cloudy ice. Within, Simonee could barely see the makings of a silhouette.
"The orbs," Aeriah grunted. "Touch the orbs."
Behind them, the rest of the group announced their arrival with the clattering of feet and hooves against the icy floor.
"Incredible," Erylian gasped.
Simonee disregarded the comment. "What? The orbs? What's going to happen when we touch them?" he asked. His head swam between their discovery and his ever-growing exhaustion. He hadn't slept since their last stop before getting whisked away to Wyrmrest Tower, and he was definitely feeling the effects now.
"Just trust me," Aeriah said gently, still eyeing the massive structure of ice looming in front of him. The tone of his voice suggested an awe that Simonee couldn't recall ever hearing before.
Simonee considered the words for a moment. He did trust his friend, but at the same time, nothing about the journey into the Nexus had gone as he thought it would. Doubts crept back into his mind about the whole thing, and he hesitated before shaking his head. No, he thought, this is not the time for doubting Aeriah.
The pedestals that housed the orbs were spread evenly across the walls of the room, lining up with the metal spires that rose from the floor. The nearest to Simonee was a few mere strides to his left. He took one last look at Aeriah, who was circling around the block of ice in continued marvel, before moving to the orb. It glowed fiercely, and it seemed to project the light outward a few inches from its surface.
"Okay. Krio, Aubs, take the other orbs," he said, not taking his eyes off of the one in front of him. He had to admit, he was incredibly curious about the artifacts. They still lacked any magic essence that he could tell, even from this range.
The two other mages quickly covered the ground toward the other orbs and quietly held their hands above their respective charge. Simonee exhaled sharply in anticipation.
"In three... two... one... now."
A brilliant light blinded them, and the sounds of ice shattering apart deafened them, but despite all that, they could still hear a voice.
"Foolish mortals..."