[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GdmIcCiMKSc][b] Le Palais de Voltais - Seer's Chamber[/b][/url][/center] 
[center][b](Collaboration between [color=92278f]SkullsandSlippers[/color] [color=0076a3]GourmetItalia[/color], [color=9e0b0f]Nevis[/color] with an honorable mention to [color=ec008c]Fern Stone[/color] and [color=fff200]Peik[/color])[/b][/center]
[center][@SkullsandSlippers][@Nevis][@FernStone][@Peik][/center]

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[color=92278f]Ona didn’t have time to really think things through. Just a moment ago Uriel was asking Lucius to take her to look around and now there was fighting again. 

Fighting. More fighting. 

There had been no time for responses. Lucius had set about giving orders. The leader in this little rag tag gang. He ordered her to take cover and she had. Ona had pressed herself back and away from the main group. She watched as Uriel attacked, felt the elemental magic in the air. 

Then everything was gone. Ona closed her eyes and clenched her head. The itch, the feeling at the back of her head grew stronger. Stronger and almost overpowering.

Ona forced her eyes open as watched as a man, hair blonde as straw laid down the woman she had seen in her sight. The seer. 

Lucius seemed to know the man, the man that made Ona's head buzz. The man called Lucius brother. All Ona could focus on was the feeling in her mind and the seer.[/color]

[color=0076a3]The two placed arms upon the other's shoulders before tightly embracing in a maniacally fraternal hug. It was after a time that the two peeled away and after the grins and stares had finally settled, Lucius quickly broke the silence, "How ... how did you know ... and where in Augurian's hell have you been these last many years?"

"After Emperor Anoush ravaged our Kingdom, I have been beside Catherine as we endured the storm that has continually crippled not just Valania, but Sarife and all of Carcassonne."

"And after all the horrors the Kingdom endured, our sister still lives," Lucius exasperatedly remarked as his eyes glanced towards the unconscious brunette?!

"Catherine is but a victim of the corruption that threatens to tear Valania and Carcassonne further down a path of utter ruin."

"A victim?!" Lucius remarked upon acknowledging her fatigued condition, "Have you seen what that bastard Conqvist has done?! Does Voltas' decay mean [i]nothing[/i] to you?! She has been directly involved in the Lord Sovereign's maddening rise to his throne and the longer we allow this to transpire, the longer he will remain unchallenged! You also haven't answered my question in how you know so much of what has happened."

"Undoubtedly, you've many questions and I thought you would say as much. Obviously I cannot change what has happened ... only what is to come. Our dear Catherine commands the gift of clear sight throughout any location in the world and she is near second to none."

Pausing, the blonde Delacroix Duke gently inched backwards until he came within paces of the unconscious Catherine's form. With a heavy sigh, his eyes squinted as he lifted the woman upon his shoulder and repositioned along the Chamber pool's water line. His pupils tilted backwards as he sank into the water until his chin touched the water. The candles lining the chamber flickered as a wind swept across the walls with alarming speeds until lines formed together around the entire pool that pulsated into hues, shapes, and colors until the coherent images began to form along the water's edges.

"Come closer, all of you," the blonde man soothingly voiced, "A specific message awaits each and every one of you, [i]Daelynn L'Fevre, Lord Bahram, Onatha, and the remaining last members of the Delacroix family ... Algol Uriel Delacroix-Aryanpur, and ... Lucius Delacroix[/i]. Alongside our sister Catherine Delacroix, whatever I, Rothion Delacroix, tell you ... must [i]not[/i] escape your lips."

"What ... what is this, Rothion?" the Prince shouted as he shielded his eyes from the winds sweeping across the room, "If this is part of Conqvist's vile and twisted schemes to rid his last foes of the throne, I [i]demand[/i] to know what in the [i]farking hell[/i] are ..."

"[i]You trying to tell us?![/i]" Rothion finished in a trance like voice? The winds began to whirl even greater as the images along the water line began to further radiate, "Heed my words and you will find what is to come may prove different than what you envisioned. [i][b]I command the gift of Prophecy, dear brother and cousin and I have the foresight to tell you what may determine the future of what is to shape Carcassonne for centuries to come ...[/b][/i]"[/color]

[color=92278f]Ona gripped her head tighter. So much noise in her mind. She didn't understand what was going on. It was all jumbled and clouded. She leaned a hand on a nearby wall an drew comfort from the cold stone. She tried to focus on the blonde man. Who was he and why did he make her head feel like this? [/color]

[color=ec008c]The events that had conspired were difficult to keep up with; the magical elements involved made it hard for Dae to understand exactly what was going on. Still, she was intelligent enough to get the gist of it. Narrowing her eyes against the wind she stepped forward, closer to Rothion. It wasn't a cautionless action, however, her hand gripped around the pistol she carried. She did trust Lucius' judgement on the blond man to an extent. He was probably Rothion Delacroix as he said. But Daedhel did not like the wind that swept across them and the very look of the pool of water. 

"Then tell us your message."[/color]

[color=0076a3]"Your resolve is welcoming, Daelynn L'Fevre," Rothion answered, "There is not much time so take heart in channelling your resolve knowing what future awaits us all. In time, you will know what it is I speak of and the potential directions with which you may decide to affect the outcome of our beloved Carcassonne and the world."

In short order, the blonde Premonist redirected his gaze towards the blonde Seer as she gripped her head and with a soft and comforting voice, stated, "Onatha of the Kanal Al-Mayrin! Earlier, you felt a strange sensation through your mind, but could not fathom what it was. It will be difficult to explain the pervasive connections between Seers and Premonists such as I, however, in short, your strange sensation stemmed from my attempts to channel and look into your future in the hopes of penetrating your future as well as those of your companions. The subtle sensation of laughter and tickling seems to happen each time a Premonist such as myself attempts to prod into the vicinity of a Seer's sphere of elemental projections although, I will be the first to say that it has been over three hundred or more years since a Premonist and Seer could ... for lack of a better term ... [i]feel each other.[/i]"

"I do apologize for what maybe a violation of you and your companions' privacy, however, I am certain you will understand my line of reasoning once I unveil certain truths that will largely affect you and your companions."

The waters along the large pool formed together around Seer and Premonist into a conjuration of crystal clear objects and individuals until a large and life-like scene began to unfold above the water's edge. The sights of sun rising and setting could be seen progressing over a lush land inhabited by men, women, and children that bore startling characteristics to Ona's features. The crystal clear scene above the pool exploded into a mist and realigned into a miniature scene of men wearing long hair riding on horseback through the country in unison and through the country, carrying ropes and weapons across their sashes. The sight of the galloping Al-Mayrin Horsemen exploded into a mist and realigned into a moving view of the land from above where the sight of days and nights quickly illuminated and darkened the lush green landscape many times over. Over the course of several moments, dots began to form across the land, and the land began to shift and evolve as the days and nights passed seamlessly as time progressed. The sight of the evolving landscape slowly collapsed into sights of huts and thousands of men and women kneeling before several elderly individuals dressed in ancient ceremonial dress customary of the Al-Mayrin peoples.

"Mature and ancient are the Al-Mayrin, Onatha," Rothion loudly voiced as he addressed the blonde seer through the low howling winds. The sights of the kneeling Al-Mayrin, collapsed into the pool to reform into a closer view of the Elderly Mayrin leaders and upon closer inspection, the leaders all raised their palms to the skies whilst chanting in strange tongues. As thousands of voices of Al-Mayrin could be heard, "Your peoples existed and spread across Carcassonne and Altaea long before the world's bedrock civilizations reached their infancy and from their existence came the elemental gifts that seem to have blessed your peoples. Before the hatred and malice that pits brothers and sisters against one another, before families were torn apart by struggles both petty and frivolous; Unity, Deeply Rooted Friendships, Musical Harmony, Prosperity, and most of all [i]Love[/i] existed between the Kanal, the Nurlia, and all the other Al Mayrin tribes that spread across the continents."

The sights of sky reaching Al Mayrin leaders and the harmonious men and women quickly collapsed into the scenes of angry Al-Mayrin rushing towards one another into battles of butchery and death whilst other crystal clear conjurations resembled women and children screaming as they escaped from burning village homes and fracturing grounds only be flattened beneath a sky that rained of endless fiery brimstone and death. The look of terror, confusion, and grief all filled their expressions as many were brought to their deaths due to cataclysmic forces of incendiary nature, famines, and war. Slowly the scene of suffering Al-Mayrin collapsed into the water where another conjuration took form. From the water's edge, the pool reformed into ancient ruins covered in vines and dense foliage where a dirtied man covered in grime, soot, and debris crept out from under a set of fallen pillars and statues. An Al-Mayrin man with purple eyes formed out of the water's edge, staring directly into Ona's in a manner that would pierce and disrupt any individual's gaze.

"You know this man, Onatha," Rothion continued, as he pointed towards the steely eyed, Al-Mayrin man with pupil-less Purple eyes, "The Nurlian warlord, Kylia, whom murdered the Nurlian and Kanal that would have stopped him, butchered your entire family, and sought to seize you as his bride after bringing both the Nurlian and Kanal tribes to heel under his dominion. He still lives and now wields great power under powers even greater than those you know to exist."

A smile slowly crept upon the lips of Kylia as various scenes of outright murder, battle, screams for mercy, and destruction of villages formed around him. Thousands of lightly armored men carrying recurved composite bows and on horseback gathered behind him as their mounts reared in excitement. In the sky, flaming arrows flashed out of nowhere and fell upon conjurations of frantic Al-Mayrin villagers, innocent Sarifen commoners of varying ages, and disorganized Sarifen soldiers. The conjurations collapsed once again and reformed into various scenes of chained men and women of Valanian, Sarifen, Ivalian, and Al-Mayrin kin working and enduring unspeakable hardships whilst hordes of the lightly armored archers on horseback roamed the lands taking and killing anything they pleased. The conjuration collapsed once again into the sights of Kylia and the men on horseback as they mercilessly beat and forced themselves upon screaming innocent women.

"This dark future will await Carcassonne if Kylia is allowed to do his bidding and he is very near to arriving to our continent," Rothion voiced as the conjurations slowly faded back into the waters. "His presence will end many lives and should he continually gain power, stopping him will be nigh near impossible."[/color]

[color=92278f]Ona watched, horror apparent on her face. The pool showed scenes that made the bile rise in her throat and tears prick at her eyes. "How?"  The word was raspy as she spoke. She could not fathom how Kylia was still alive. She wasn't supposed to be here and neither was he. 

"How can he be - how is this possible?"  Again Kylia and his men would butcher anything in his way. He would rule all he could and it wasn't right. It hadn't been right when it was her people and it was not right now. "He should be long dead. We - no...this cannot be."  

Onatha turned her face away and hid her tears. Anger mixed there leaving a knot in her stomach. "We must stop him. He cannot do this...[/color] 

[color=9e0b0f]Uriel, for his part, watched and listened to the scene, tensed like a coil with all of the nervousness of a rabbit or a doe staring down a predator. [i]He knew his name[/i]-the [i]whole[/i] of it. He knew of the demons and had said them aloud, and...

... they did naught. The others gave absolutely no reaction to it, caught up with the rest-Lucius with the apparent familiar reunion, his brother and sister both profound magi, Ona the apparent revelation of her people's continued existance and a threat from...

The already cold, wracking sweat down the young man's back turned to sheer ice as he stared into the water at the sight, staring into the violet seeing windows of a conqueror's soul. Fierce, hateful, ambitious, arrogant, hungry... and filled, made, of that strange, piercing, strikingly 'off' color. So much like his own that bled emerald the deeper he reached into the depths of magic. Violet's opposite... he, Algol, named for... of all things...

A tense clench took his fists, tightening as the possible ramifications ran through his mind. How the others might react yet to learning of the demons bound to him, of Conqvist's shackled leash around his very life-that the seeress was his tortured kin and of what part he might play, being so the inverse and yet similar to the man now no longer staring up at him from the water's image. He lifted his gaze to Rothion and studied him, analyzing, wondering, thinking for all that his unknowing, exhausted mind could. Then he moved to Lucius. Then each of the others in turn, perceiving them as wholly as he could.

... finally coming to Ona, the divining maiden of the same race as the violet-eyed prophecized monster. Confusion, grief and fear reverberating in her form as tears overflowing from her gentle eyes and trembles wracking her demure frame. A now people-less magi, hunted by others who had taken away what family and home she had once had. Only gentler, as women were kin to be-caring, easily empathic, unlike his own arrogant, splintered self-fractured between the rage, pride and ambition from his father's court, his mother's whoring, the violence of the streets and the other half-the gentle caring of his mother, the integrity of his mentor, this growing, nagging conscious that had pulled close, cut and shredded on its broken-glass edge his half-broken heart  and self lost in the emptiness between the two. For whatever reason that he did not understand, he heeded the wordless voice echoing in him and stepped forward.

Three soft sets of steps echoed through the chamber, ending with Algol putting a hand to Ona's shoulder, pressing it with a gentle, reassuring firmness entirely unlike aught any of them had ever seen of him. He looked to her to catch her gaze for a moment, if she would look in kind, then to Rothion and the rest. His eyes danced with subtle, barely perceptible wisps of green like dancing, licking fire or floating spirits-yet, in that bristled, willful gaze, somehow impossible to miss-all while flames of void-black and emerald flickered up from his other, clenched hand, the shadows on the wall behind  him... swaying, lashing out in a manner that could not be from the water. Not from the fire. Not with the sporadic appearance of clawed hands, biting maws, faint echoes of eruptions of fire and lightning and violence in the faint absences of light.

"Let him come," he stated, voice loud, beholden to the full weight of all of the care and animosity both that this damned night and scene had taken hold of by their chains and dredged up from the depths. "[i]I[/i] am the one born under and named for the sign of ruin. If he attacks what little I have left..." The flames flared, the shadows darkening. Even as his breath turned ragged, as though the shadows were tearing at him, his eyes stared even brighter. 

"... [i]Hell itself[/i] will [i]cower[/i] at what I do to [i]him[/i]."[/color]

[color=0076a3]The winds whirled even fiercer upon Uriel's reassuring gestures and in a flash, the ruinous scenes of bloodshed and malicious anarchy violently collapsed into another cloud of Mist. Flickering ensued amongst the candles as the pool surge with activity and bubbles as the sight of a Sarifen aristocrat and a Valanian girl formed upon the water's edge. The two figures lay nude as they lay upon cool grasses within a lush, hanging Garden overlooking the vast and intricately crated capital city of Ktesiphon. Staring out over the starry sky, the two stared into each others' eyes and held each others' hands in passionate affection. 

"I have a favor to ask of you," the aristocrat announced as he drew her in for a kiss, "And it is the price of receiving my love."

"Your excellence," the girl lovingly answered, "Anything for you ..."

The man pulled away from her embrace and retrieved an ornate knife bearing gleaming jewels, sapphires, and the Delacroix crest. His eyes shone of fury and satisfaction as he placed the weapon into the girl's palm. The confusion that engulfed the girl's face provoked the man's fury as he seized her jaw and glared into her eyes and a moment passed as she glanced upon the crested knife before the man forcefully enclosed her fingers around the hilt. 

"Prove to me that you aren't the whore that stepped into this chamber and defiled everything that has embodied mighty Sarife," the man vehemently commanded, "By the month's end, you will thrust this into King Lothair's heart and deliver Valania into the Imperial Sarifen Empire's rightful rule ... under [i][b]my rule[/b][/i]"

In an instant, the sight collapsed back into the water's edge and reformed into the sights of a throne room where a finely robed man wearing a jeweled crown crawled desperately away from the steps leading away from his throne. His robes appeared soaked in blood and the apparent wounds along his body unveiled several dozen, grisly stab wounds. Nearby, the contorted corpses of slain Garde de Roi retainers, respected Valanian nobility, and masked Sarifen cutthroats lay all around the blood stained chamber. The robed man coughed and sputtered as he glanced around towards his trusted comrades and retainers before crawling towards the writhing form of a crowned woman.

"Help ... m-m-m-me ... Lothair..." the woman chortled as she contorted and coughed as she writhed from over a dozen of stab wounds.

"[i]No![/i]" he cried as he attempted to squirm his way towards the crowned woman's side. 

Before crawling halfway, the man paused as he noticed a figure creep from under a hidden location. His eyes widened as the figure came into full view carrying a jewel encrusted, Delacroix engraved knife. Stepping out from the shadows, the same girl from the hanging garden maneuvered shakily, but steadily through the corpses with a determined look of resolution. 

"Duchess Adelaide," the crowned man gasped, "Thank ... goodness you're ... here. You must bring help and alert the Garde de R..."

"I am ... sorry, Lothair," the Duchess unevenly answered as she made her way towards the writhing woman, "However, my heart commands my fate for the good of this realm."

Without delay, the woman seized the crowned woman's hair provoking a ghastly scream before the girl gripped the embroidered knife and slashed it across the woman's throat. Words could not escape King Lothair's lips as he watched his wife squirm and choke upon her blood. As tears and cries of sorrow began to stream down his eyes, the girl slowly made her way towards the King carrying the dripping knife. Every step proved laborious and the closer the girl seemed to move, the greater the stream of tears flowed down her eyes.

"Adelaide," the King sadly addressed, "Why?"

"Please don't make this any harder than it must, Lothair," the girl tearfully answered as she shakily raised the hilt, "[i]I have no choice in this matter![/i]"

"Choice? What ... choice?" he wearily gasped, "Why are you here and ... what would ... possess you to commit such high treas..." 

Before the King could finish, the girl gripped the hilt and rammed the blade through his heart, provoking a squelching sound and a gasp of shock and terror. Within moments, King Lothair's eyes had begun to fade as the Duchess began to weep. 

"It is for my son," she whispered as the breath escaped the King's lips. A short time afterwards, the Duchess released the hilt as footsteps could be heard entering the chamber. A scream echoed through the chamber as a man wrapped in fine silks, breeches, and the mark of a Duke came into view. His gaze swept towards the grisly sight of corpses strew across the floor before glancing towards the murdered King and Queen of Valania. Within moments the Duke had dropped to his knees as full realization ignited his facial expressions and he wasted no time in drawing his sword. Through the water's edge, additional footsteps were heard and orders barked as sight of a young boy and a full company of Garde de Roi lead by a towering officer came into view. Gaping upon the grisly sight of the corpses, the young Prince raised his sword as the Garde de Roi assembled into a battle line across the Chamber.

"[i]Help me[/i]," the Ducchess hysterically cried as she scrambled towards the new arrivals, "Help me, I beg you, Prince Lucius! He murdered the King and Queen! He murdered [i]everyone![/i]"

"Make your way out of the Palais, Ducchess and seek safety in within Ecuyer D'Aubigne's Manor," the young Lucius calmly remarked before turning back towards the confounded Duke, "Arrest him and send him into the Dungeons to rot."

"This is absurd," the Duke bellowed as the King's retainers forcefully threw him in chains, "[i]I am the King's brother, damnit, and I swear in Yadin-Hamon and Athirat's name of your deplorable acts! [b]Unchain me at once!![/b][/i]

All at once the sights began to fade and the winds began to calm as the scene of the Duchess racing away whilst the Duke became dragged away collapsed into a mist and through the pool. Gaping, Lucius' wide-eyed stare hinged between outright horror and disbelief as he glanced back and forth between the pool, Rothion's location, and Uriel. 

"We cannot escape the deeds our parents committed nor the circumstances, in which we came into this word," Rothion loudly voiced, "Inevitably we were brought into this world through means escaping our grasp."[/color]

[color=9e0b0f]Faintly, at first, as several moments passed, a whimpered chorus echoed in throughout the room. High-pitched, forced like a rasp on wood. As Lucius looked to him, Uriel's eyes stained in red, wet as the method of revelation before them, tears beginning to spill over uncontrollably. He laughed-shallow, high-noted laughs with a twisted, agonized smile bleeding out dread, shame, guilt and rage as much as his face did water and his voice became laced with the threatening hint of madness.

"... I really am the son of a whore," he giggled, bringing his hand up to grasp at his forehead, filthy hair jutting out messily about while his fevered gaze pierced the water with that intensity that could raze a soul. "... everything related to me, everything I touch... betrayal, agony and massacre, just as the star implies..."

A spell of maniacal laughter took hold of him, shaking throughout him and staining the air as though lacing it with poison as tears streamed down his face to splatter on the floor like rain. "[i][b]'Your little angel'[/b]?! Your [b]'precious little angel'[/b]?! Mother, you traitorous slut, you ruined the world for [b]me[/b]?! Mother, I [b]am[/b] the [b]Devil![/b][/i]"[/color]

[color=0076a3]The pool once again stirred, only this time, the sight unveiled the Duchess kneeling before a man surrounded by Sarifen aristocrats. Upon command the girl stepped into the light, unveiling the bulge around her womb and the black veins covering her arms and legs. Mere moments later, she begged vigorously as the man dangled a flask carrying swirling liquids above her head as she begged and pleaded for her life. 

"The Battle of Vercelli cost me the lives of some of my finest Sipahis and ... despite crushing Valania's last armies, the dead have forced some families to live on without fathers, uncles, brothers, cousins, or sons. Give me one reason for why I should spare your life."

"Father is this really necessary?" a younger voice began. Gasps amongst the great Sarifen Houses followed suit, invoking the man's rage and utter embarrassment as the Imperial Sarifen Prince, Bahramesh pushed his way through the crowd of Aristocrats, followed closely by the young veiled Princess, "Grandpa-pa always said that we should show mercy on those who have performed great deeds to our peoples and that it is the Sarifen way of honor."

Bellowing in rage, the man back-handed the young Princess, splitting blood in front of the Heads of the Sarife's Great Houses. In his fit of fury, his hands slipped, to the Duchesses horror, and the flask came plummeting down to the floor. The shattering that followed resembled the single catalyst that drove the girl into a panic and through the tent's streaks of sunlight, dark streaks quickly began to spread across her body. The great Heads of Sarife's Houses whispered in fascination and curiosity whilst the Imperial Prince defiantly glared towards his father as blood began to dribble down his lips. In defiance, the boy firmly placed a comforting hand along the Duchess' quivering form.

"The antidote for the poison," the Head of House Surenya whispered, "She's doomed to a slow death."

"Perhaps it is for the best," the Bozorgan of Baktria answered, "The Emperor's illegitimate children are already a threat to Prince Bahramesh's status as an heir."

As the Duchess twitched upon the floor, her eyes widened upon feeling a small hand press upon her womb. A short giggle formed under the veil of Princess as she happily stepped adjacent her brother and pressed both hands across the girl's bulging form. Within several instants, the black streaks completely disappeared to be replaced by pale, yet astonishingly healthy skin. Whispers once again filled the gathering of the great houses as Duchess Adelaide rose to find sweat drenching her otherwise unaffected body. Cursing vehemently, Emperor Anoush seized a large goblet and drained its alcoholic contents in a mere gulp before storming out of the tent to the sounds of trumpets, horns, and cries of victory in the Emperor's name.

"There," the Princess jubilant voice squeeked, removing both hands from the Duchess' womb, "Now we will have a baby brother!"

"You should not have done that, Farah," the Imperial Prince whispered, "Now all the Great Houses will know of your secret!"

"Agghhh," the Valanian lady gasped as she held her womb, "I can feel him close at hand."

"Then follow me to the Surgeon's tents," Prince Bahramesh answered as he brought the girl to her feet, "They will see that you will be treated as a member of our great family!"

Collapsing yet again, the images collapsed into the sight of men and women of varying ages chanting as they held parcels of heavily inscribed papers above their heads. The dimly lit room, braziers, riveted stone pillars, and shrines doting the chamber largely inscribed a temple where the Oracle Lysia housed the members of the Sarifen Inquisition. Clearing his nose away, Rothion continued, "You are also here to discover an answer to what our forceful captor Lord Sovereign, Richter von Conqvist did to you to ensure your loyalty as a powerful pawn. You will find no simple solution, yet one does exist to confine the powerful and unstoppable demonic entities infesting your body. Without your entities, it is doubtful that you may unleash anything greater than short pillars of fire."

Through a heavily furrowed brow, Lucius immediately turned and stared aghast upon the armored Uriel Delacroix. The Prince glanced back and forth between the various chamber occupants and for a moment, Lord Bahram and Lucius both shared a mutual look of understanding and disturbance.

"[b][i]Demons?![/i][/b]" Lucius inquired incredulously as he cowered under the winds whipping above his head whilst directing suspicious and timid glances towards the armored Uriel, "[i]You're mad! How can you unveil that which doesn't exist?![/i]"

"There is much, dear brother," Rothion remarked, "Much about this world that can be explained and explored at a further time, but it is much different in ways we will never comprehend. I don't anticipate that we may uncover the surface within a dozen lifetimes and it is wasteful to believe otherwise. You saw the Ivalian shades appear after the Chateau massacre and I can assure you that it is, but a small appetizer to several main courses."

The winds suddenly shifted again and blew against the walls where ghastly shrieks filled the room. Shadows of jagged teeth, sharpened horns, and mis-shaped jaws appeared and evaporated as the scriptures along the walls pulsated so heavily that the inscribed text began to glow in an unusual dark grey hue. A shudder escaped Catherine's lips and in her unconscious form, the effects of the winds marked a clear presence in the room that had not previously existed. All at once the candles flickered and swayed towards the inscribed scriptures along the walls before several smoke trails quickly seeped from the Uriel's armor into the wall's various scriptures.

"These scriptures act as wards to keep the demons at bay and Catherine is as much of a victim of the Lord Sovereign's meddling as is our cousin Uriel. I fear I've not the time to explain these matters, however, I believe it's best that you take care in understanding my explanations for even now, the Lord Sovereign is on his way back to the Palais."

"Listen to me," Lord Bahram flatly began as he leveled and cocked his rifled musket. "I don't have time for this meddling with the arcane. What I know is that if we do not remove your sister from this world, we are all dead men so I advise you use your fortune telling sorcery and tell us how to kill your master or we will find another way."

"I have looked through the branches of the future, past, and present, Lord Bahram, and it does not bode well if we attempt to accomplish too much in so short a time. I want to assure you that this is not a delaying tactic and that my words are genuine. It is to my understanding that you wish to return to your business and recover your steeds so that you maybe rid of prolonging your stay within this cursed city. I will at least promise your fulfillment of your desires."

"Rothy, if there isn't any time," Lucius interjected as he glanced suspiciously towards the Armored Magi, "At least explain what the future bodes for our cousin's so called [i]Demons[/i]!"

"Our cousin will die if he is allowed to leave this room," Rothion calmly answered as he cast a worrying glance in Uriel's direction, "His plate armor acted as a Ward against the demons caged within his body and it has now been rendered completely inert. The only reason he is still alive is due to the scriptures holding Catherine's demons at bay. If you wish to know how this is possible without a lengthy discussion, I can assure you that these inscribed parcels act as a ward and permanent prison to put the demons to sleep. Before you inquire any further, I must stress that we must offer Uriel the assistance he requires to keep his demons at bay. The future and well being of this [i][b]entire continent[/b][/i] as well as [i][b]significant parts of this world[/b][/i] depend on his survival and he deserves our support after having suffered so heavily at the hands of malevolent and powerful men."

"Rothy," the Prince addressed, "I cannot see the future and you ask of me a sacrifice, in which the Inquisition declares heresy! I cannot even fathom what [i]demons[/i] are capable of if they are allowed to roam free."

"And that is why it is imperative that your cousin, Uriel Delacroix, must either remain within this Chamber," Rothion answered, "There is no other way he can acquire a solution to restraining his demonic entities unless a member of your party sacrifices their life to offer a permanent ward to his armor."

Cursing, the Prince offered a worrying glance between his Al-Mayrin companion and his sister, whose appearance took upon a pale, quivering form before his eyes once again rested upon the armored magi. Their history together was irreversible and they had endured many encounters, in which they should not have survived. Rothion's impending words had a ring of finality that he had rarely sensed and following his brothers instructions had pointed towards possibly abandoning their fellow comrade if one of the party did not sacrifice themselves to offer the man a permanent ward against the demonic entities. It was a decision that posed a significant weight upon the Prince and his silence served to further emphasize the heartfelt discomfort that was lingering.

"If I am to sacrifice my own life," Lucius loudly inquired as he shielded his eyes from the whirling Chamber winds, "If my actions ensure that that bastard Conqvist does not enslave our cousin and the freedoms of Valania and her peoples, what future can we hope to expect?"

"We shall soon see it together, dear brother," the Premonist answered.

Once again the conjuration collapsed into a sea of Mist before reforming into flames and pulsating shades that twisted, writhed, and shifted around the embers' shadows that vigorously cast along the water's edge. The shapes of grisly jaws and jagged teeth formed from the shades where upon the sight of a screaming older man resembling Uriel's features stood upon a cliff as a channelled stream of thick molten fire rained upon a field occupied by hundreds of thousands of men on horseback, carrying recurved composite bows, light armor, and strange facial characteristics. The fire stream continually fell down across upon the battlefield, channelled by the older Uriel and renting the grasses and men aflame where ever the fire fell.

"Your elemental projections will grow exponentially, Uriel," Rothion calmly voiced as the incinerating fire pillar streaked across the battlefield in a vengeful wrath that involved the older man screaming at the top of his lungs. A gleaming crown could be seen on his head and a soot-smothered, plate armor covered his chest as he decimated whole companies of mounted archers, steeds, and steel into columns of smoldering, charbroiled debris. 

"Proper restraint, however, must take precedence in ensuring that justice and proper counter-measures are exacted upon those deserving eradication and not upon innocents," the blonde prophet warned. Immediately, the sights collapsed to a new conjuration featuring a much older, but relatively youthful Onatha as she carried a young toddler in her arms. Her eyes featured a look of frantic desperation as she and many Al-Mayrin, Ivalians, and Valanians alike scrambled towards various ships preparing to sail away. Overlooking the dockyards stood the older crowned man carrying Uriel's features. His eyes bore a look of sadness as he glanced towards Ona before turning back towards the cliffs overlooking the hordes of approaching horsemen and legions of foot soldiers crossing the field of battle. His attention diverted again as he glanced back towards Ona and the fleeing refugees where groups of the mounted horse archers carried strange banners as they rushed towards the dockyards. Their arrows volleyed as one into the fleeing civilians and slew many as they rushed towards the dockyards, which still hailed with the banners of Old and Ancient Valania. 

"There is great potential for either exacting terrifying destruction that may rain vengeance upon certain foes at the cost of killing many innocents." 

In an instant, a pillar of flames fell upon the horsemen, incinerating both civilians and mounted horse archers alike. The aftermath ignited various districts in the surrounding vicinity, trapping other civilians who could not reach the docks and through the carnage, a screaming Ona was seen reeling from severe burns as her Al-Mayrin compatriots managed to drag her onto an awaiting caravel as it cast lines off for departure. Shaken in disbelief, the older Uriel glanced back towards the battlefield where he once again shouted to the top of his lung as he cast away his armor and seemingly threw everything he had into the advancing hordes of armored horsemen lighting the fields afire. As the flaming pillar tore through the hordes, his attention diverted towards the skies where hundreds of incendiary objects flew across the skies and towards the battered city below of what remained of Voltas. Screaming, the older Uriel threw his weight upon the advancing hordes and managed to incinerate many more before the entire cliff exploded in a sea of raging fires, rock, and dust. Mortally wounded and disembowled, Uriel glanced towards the small fleet of caravels as they sailed away where he witnessed the sight of the burned Al-Mayrin seer glancing back in his direction. The magi shared one last glance towards the shattered crown laying near his feet before succumbing to an eternal sleep.

"Learning restraint and discipline will be near nigh impossible unless you accept what may happen should the future be allowed to run its course," Rothion collectively continued, "All the same … great potential may bring for the opposite, in which [i]certain particular restraints[/i] may allow foes to commit acts of brutality." The conjuration collapsed into yet another sight where the apocalyptic future became replaced by the sight of a middle aged man carrying Uriel's characteristics. Wearing rich scholar's robes, vetted in steel scales draping his neck, plated armor, and a long flowing beard. His eyes looked out from a terraced marble balcony within the Palais de Voltas with sadness upon the streets where he watched mounted horsemen flood the streets, spearing or felling fleeing innocent men, children and the elderly whilst women were forcefully seized and mounted against their will. The sounds of fast moving assassins caught the middle aged Uriel's attention.

"In time, your restraint may gain great respect and love of the people to inspire them to take rightful action." 

The conjuration collapsed once again and reformed into the sight of a well kept, yet crude looking cemetery bearing the grave stones of various Al-Mayrin, Ivalian, and Valanian names. Men, women, children, and individuals of all ages gathered around a blossoming figure of a middle-aged woman bearing Ona's facial characteristics. Various Al-Mayrin and Valanians alike, gathered around a largely erected, marble laced tomb of gold and silver ornamentation. The inscriptions displayed Uriel's name in fanciful letters and a symbol of the Fleur de lis laced patterns of the Delacroix household. Through a rousing speech, Ona earned the praises of the gathering crowd bringing a chant in Uriel's name that began to gain in fury and rhythm until the chorus of chants evolved into a collective war cry that spanned across the entire city of Voltas. In a heated, galvanized frenzy, men, women, and children gathered as one and poured out of the cemetery, taking to the streets where they were joined by other Voltisian residents. The large crowds began to fall upon the large groups of mounted horsemen and strangely armored soldiers patrolling the streets and advanced as one towards the Palais de Voltas.

"Will you, Uriel Delacroix, wish to be remembered as the Harbringer of Vengeance or Brother Uriel for the restraint and good that would inspire generations of every kind to decide their own destiny?"[/color]

[color=9e0b0f]Uriel had watched wide-eyed, his tear-streaked and bloodshot gaze transfixed on the premonitory images and words throughout. Emotions flooded and washed over his face plainly and openly as the scenes on the water's surface, unfolding. Horror, shame, guilt conflicted with gratitude for the sight of his mother and what she had done, how his older half-sibling had regarded and treated her and him. He swallowed-hard, painfully moving the lump in his throat, audibly near-choking it down.

The half-breed prince maintained his silence as the discussion unfolded. Rothion spoke and Lucius retorted and questioned. The flames mirrored in his eyes, awash with glimmering light at the play of tragedy filled with the rage of himself cracked and broken and razing the world in an unholy inferno. Lucius was gone, Ona with a child and some connection with him-by the look of it, the fleeing remnants of Valania were his before the apocalyptic scene. His armor broke and shattered to leave a raging, dying fire, much like the play itself-a tragedy of love, loss, rage and a world without peace.

Then it faded, to be replaced with a softer version of him-garbed in scholarly or priestly dress. sagely, so much like his teacher. And yet, still, people were butchered and raped, their lives and livelihoods pillaged by men twisted and perverted so horribly so as to be capable of such atrocities. Rothion spoke of him biding, withholding in restraint and that one day the people would rise up against their oppressors, to 'rightful action'.

Finally, the prophet returned the attention to Uriel himself. In his question was all of his conflict of these recent years, the whole of his schismed self that he had been ensnared in and shown again and again-the disparity of the opposites and the empty void between. He stared at Rothion for a long pause, then slowly moved his head about to take in the face of each and every person within the room. seeing them, looking to see what they saw. In him.

At last, his gaze settled back to Rothion, face still empty and blank. Then he released his long-held breath...

... as a ... [i]different[/i] look took in his eyes. Frightened, yet full of determined will. Filled with the swirling vortex of anger, fear and pain and... love, that reflected the entirety of their continent, their world. Yet setting it all aside, still and at motion all at once.

"Neither." His voice was deeper. Raw at the edges for the crying, screaming, inhaled smoke and stone-yet uncompromising, resolute. "They are one in the same-the differing extremes of the same shackle of a fate where we each live for a future and eschew ourselves for others-or cling to force and might in fear and rage, entrapped in the past. In both cases, the self is lost, the truth betrayed as I become either a glorified murderer to one day create my own ruin or a whore who would sell my soul for a false peace. One my mother, one my father."

The prince exhaled and drew in breath again before sending a glance upward past the stone ceiling to the unseen night sky above-then back down to Rothion to speak again.

"... I am not Uriel Delacroix. I am Algol Uriel Delacroix-Aryanpur, Duke of Valania and Prince of Sarife by blood. Yet at heart, in spirit, in soul, I am neither. I am [i]me[/i]." He lifted his right hand, palm upturned and open. A small, tender-looking flame rolled to life, hovering above his armored hand. After a moment, the flame began to lace with verdant green like the glimmer characteristic of his eyes, turning it almost sickly...

... yet...

... slowly, it began to soften, the fire fade even as the energy endured. Moments passed and eventually the glow was all that remained-a warm, soft, ambient presence shimmering in his palm. He sent only a passing glance to it before back up to Rothion.

"... I am the prince of demons, the lord born under the Demon star for which I was named. I will neither wreak the agony and massacre that it oft implies nor lose the deeper gift of it and repeat my mother's mistake and let the people chase a false peace, rebel and start the cycle of tyrant and victim, oppressor and resister again and call it revolution. I am the usual order broken; I am the upheavel of the cycle itself."

Algol looked to Lucius then, gaze staring into his friend's heart. "I will find-I will [i]create[/i]-another way. [b]The[/b] way. I will master these beings inside of me and transcend these shackles-this armor, my birthrights, this war. [b]All[/b] of it."[/color]

[color=92278f]It was as if the world was flipping on them. What they had known to be true, what they had known was real seemed to be wrong or parts missing. Their future, at least according to the visions they were shown seemed frightening. Destruction, war and devastation. A child. 

She tried not to focus on that too much but it was hard.

It was her turn to offer comfort, support and strength. Her hand held his arm. Ona moved closer to Uriel. She had learned so much and yet he learned even more. The pain of it all was written on his face, in his posture and it hurt her to see it. All she had been through was nothing it seemed to the pain on his face or the hurt in his voice. 

Onatha recognized the feelings behind his words. Uriel, Algol...whoever he was would not be chained down by visions of the future or knowledge of his past. Ona felt a connection to that, a bond in that that she had not seen in anyone else. Emotions were too raw, too much in the front to fully comprehend all of what had been said. There was talk of demons, sacrifice and more but in this moment all Onatha could focus on was that, like her, Uriel was being shown a future that included death, destruction and war. That he was alone and hurt. That his future was as harsh as hers it seemed. 

Her hands wrapped around his upper arm in an effort to let him know he was not alone. She wanted to show him that though she barely knew him that she understood parts of what he was feeling. She didn't care about the demons or his past. She only cared about this very moment and how overwhelmed they all were. The future, or at least one possible future had been shown to them. 

Ona looked between Lucius and Uriel. She didn't know what to say. It was as if her words were stuck in the dryness of her throat, as if her tears that still filled her eyes took away her ability to speak.[/color] 

[color=0076a3]Through gritted teeth, the Prince's expression formed into an appearance of utter confusion, seething rage, and dire concern. His eyes glanced between the companions that had braved hell on earth to accompany his mad quest to remove a necessary evil only to discover that it was his own family that would. The harsh and existing truths had risen the stakes towards levels he could not have fathomed. Even the near death experiences could not prepare him for the hidden authenticity of what had unfolded as well as what was to come. He'd seen his family torn before his eyes, his rightful heirship ripped from his grasp at an age where his youth was thrust into a position of responsibilities where even the wisest and oldest of rulers had failed. The common people that had looked to him for guidance and well-being were betrayed after the Kingdom fell and even since, he had either lived in treacherous exile or found himself running for his life. 

The following years had seen those he had loved, respected, or held in high regards taken, manipulated, and murdered while the great Great Sarifen Houses, Sarife's Imperial Emperor Anoush Aryanpour, and the Lord Sovereign Richter von Conqvist ensured their authority rise skywards. How had fate cursed him to such an abyss? How many more innocents would die and suffering affect Carcassonne before misfortune spread into the neighboring realms such as Vectis, Vorst, or Ivalis? Sarife's Imperial Emperor and the Power-mongering aristocrats would see to it that there would be no end to their lust to control the continent.

He had made a promise to himself, to his family's honor, the former Kingdom's reputation, and to the Delacroix ancestral lineage that the Kingdom would be restored through any means necessary and that those responsible for bringing the realm to ruin would eventually die very painful deaths. If fate ensured that the fallen Kingdom of Valania required a martyr to preserve the hell that would await the scheming bastards outside of the Palais, it was a fate he was willing to accept. It was a reality that required fulfillment by any means necessary and it filled his heart with sadness to accept the inevitable.

"Don't you see what is happening, Uriel?" the Prince loudly exclaimed! Through a quick motion, his hand unsheathed the long dagger along his belt before bearing a tight grip around the hilt, "You saw the future and you [i]know[/i] what will happen if you leave. There is no escaping the demons and I can't allow you to kill yourself on my behalf. We don't even understand what unknown forces your demons are capable of and only the Inquisition possesses knowledge upon such matters. In either circumstance, no matter what we enact upon, our actions play into Conqvist's favor!"[/color]

[color=92278f]Onatha's hand gripped Uriel's arm a little harder and moved closer to him. "What demons? The future is not fixed, it can't be...that-all that.." 

Her words choked off again. Her jaw trembled as she tried to compose herself. "It can't be fixed. There must be something we can do."[/color] 

[color=9e0b0f]Algol stared back at Lucius-resolute yet touched with alarm at the blade in his hand. "Did you not see? In both visions, Conqvist was no longer ruler. I wore a crown and obviously lead in your stead in the first; Sarife or this outer threat in the latter. In both cases, it is neither Sarife nor Conqvist that are the true threat. It is this other mage with violet eyes. Conqvist is going to lose, regardless-as will everyone. Fire and war or a false peace and a revolution that changes those in power yet not the people and thus continuing this same repetitive cycle of the rise and fall of nations, rulers and subjugation. Both start with [i]your[/i] death."

"I [i]do[/i] see," he says, gripping Ona's arm back, fingers wrapping around her forelimb. He sent a look down to her-a smile that was filled with empathy, resignation, determination. Reassuring even for the fear, as though somehow [i]knowing[/i] that everything would, somehow, be alright as his emerald-swirled eyes stared into hers.

"... there is," he said before looking back up to Lucius. "I can stay. And train. Until I am ready."[/color]

[color=92278f]Uriel stared down at her. His hand gripped her arm and Ona felt steadier because of it. She turned her eyes to Lucius as well. "What happens now?"  

Onatha looked around at everyone in the room. "What happens now? What do we do?"  Though she tried to remain calm there was a little desperation in voice.[/color]

[color=0076a3]A simple glance towards the whirling winds and the flickering shadows seemed enough to allow a moment of inflection upon one of the last Royal Delacroix Princes. The ramifications to ramming the knife through his heart had only just begun to surface and in that moment, he became aware that attention had shifted towards his very existence. After a time, the Prince placed an arm around both Seer and Pyrourger before quietly answering, "I am afraid I have no insights into this matter, Ona. Fighting is an option, however, it seems that to do so means to fight another day and in doing so, it would force our hand in leaving my sister to Conqvist's will. Realistically, even if we were to leave, we have no soldiers, no finances, few friends, and neither the weapons nor supplies to survive the week."

Sighing, his redirected towards the blonde Premonist standing along the pond's center, "We [i]do[/i], of course, command the wisdom of a Prophet. As such, I must request your Council, Rothy. There [i]must[/i] be another way to escape without leaving behind our friends and family. You must have forseen what was to come and what it is that can we do for Uri... [i]Algol[/i] and Cathy there."

“Your wisdom is justified, dear brother ... admirable even! Resolve under peril are rare traits and the mark of a leader; nevertheless, [i]it is also your folly.[/i]”

Scenes conjured above the water's edge where the sights of the Valanian flag danced in the breeze above cheering crowds of commoners whipped into a frenzy. The Garde du Delacroix stood at attention behind a newly constructed balcony within the Palais de Voltas ornamented in the finest glittering metals and gems of remarkable qualities. Rows of disciplined Valanian soldiers stood at attention as an older Valanian aristocrat bearing rich garments and high gothic armor placed a gleaming crown above Lucius' head. The sights collapsed into another that unveiled multiple visions that ranged from valiant tides of determined Valanian soldiers pouncing upon crumbling ranks of disheveled Sarifen conscripts to the unfolding visions of Sarifen banners falling from numerous Valanian city ramparts and prosperity inching through various Valanian markets and coastal wharf fronts. 

Others depicted various Sarifen aristocrats face the execution block whilst scenes of civil unrest spread through populated Sarifen municipalities. Yet again, various scenes unveiled genocides committed against Sarifen commoners as Valanian soldiers pillaged their way across various Sarifen cities and its arid countryside. The unfolding scenes provoked a discomforting groan from Rothion as he seemingly struggled to maintain his posture. 

"The branches of fate have been rewritten," Rothion began again, "The realities you witnessed have extinguished to set realities of a new nature. I fear I may have doomed us all and that I made a mistake in hastily unveiling so much of our futures."

The sights reformed into a scene depicting Lucius as he sat along a throne room, glancing towards a map alongside various diplomats of surrounding kingdoms where arguments had begun to break out regarding the various interests between Valania's war efforts and sovereignty. "Should you continue upon your current course, you will find victories and the Kingdom of Valania restored to its rightful place. Prosperity and the status quo shall follow whilst you reconsolidate Valania's rightful place within Altaea ... [i]if only for a short while ...[/i]"

The visions collapsed into a lavish bed chamber where a elderly Lucius lay upon a bed accompanied a retinue of Garde du Roi and much older appearing individuals bearing facial hallmarks of Onatha, Uriel, Daelynn, Balthazar, Catherine, and many other aristocrats of importance. Bearing embroidered silken garments of the signature Delacroix Royal Household. The elderly Lucius seemed incredibly pale as the adorned women of the Augurian Military Orders offered lasting rights. The Palais Chamber's windows streaked with lightening where a thunderstorm brewed from afar. As the vision of the elderly Lucius drew his last breath, the thunder and lightening began to rumble in the distance. The Palais began to rock in a violent shudder and soon the Chamber occupants scrambled as distant cannon-fire began to pound the Palais with unrelenting ferocity. As an elderly Balthazar mustered the Garde du Delacroix to action and the Orders of Melitas and Valus reformed to man the walled emplacements, the sights reformed to that of Uriel and Ona surrounded by their immediate generations of families as they glanced off into the distance.

Collapsing yet again, the scene reformed into the locations where the cannons roared without pause. The purple-eyed Al-Mayrin, Kylia barked orders and directing bombardment volleys aboard a large armada assembled along the Voltisian Bay. His expression took upon a furious look of sadistic hatred as his warships smashed through the Voltisian walled defenses with ease. Moments later the sights collapsed again to form into a scene depicting hordes of landing vessels filled with mounted horse archers and lightly armored foot men of yellowed skin were seen pouring through various city streets of Valanian and Sarifen appearance. 

As the scenes of massacre, enslavement, and pillaging filled the water's edge, Lucius in the present stepped forward and attempted to shield his companions' eyes. "Cover your eyes and ears!" he gently whispered to his companions.

"[i]ROTHION!!!!![/i] WHAT DO YOU HOPE TO ACCOMPLISH THROUGH UNVEILING THIS FUTURE?!! " screamed the Prince, "IS THERE ANY HOPE FOR JUSTICE OR ARE WE CONDEMNED TO DAMNATION?! HOW CAN WE HOPE TO RESIST AGAINST THESE FARKING ANIMALS??!!"

The sound of an explosion rocked the Chamber and the sounds of scrambling footsteps and shouts of men sounded through the other end of the Seer's Chamber's only entrance. A moroseness overtook Rothion as he glanced towards the Chamber entrance, "[i]There is not much time and it pains me to have thrust such burdens upon your companions given your ordeals, however, our fates have left us with little choice and I fear that I may not have another opportunity to offer warnings before it is too late! The Lord Sovereign and his men are approaching, not more than one hundred meters away and if you do not act now, he will surely redirect fate to an even darker future!![/i]"

"TO HELL WITH YOU!!" Lucius screamed before turning towards his companions. His frantic motions provoked his retrieval of various gunpowder pouches and his steeled weapon still tucked behind his waist. "Lord Bahram, if you carry enough charges, you may wish to location another part of this chamber to blast a new escape route. Dae, if you must, we cannot allow Catherine to suffer under Conqvist's savageries. Uriel, Ona, I would not ask you otherwise, however, we [i]must[/i] carry on awhile longer. [i]Can you manage?![/i]"[/color]

[color=92278f]Onatha didn't have to be told twice. She turned her head, pressing her face into Uriel to hide from the visions.  She didn't want to see anymore, hear anymore. She wanted to go someplace quiet and simply rest. Every part of her felt too weary for this. She wouldn't though. Lucius and Uriel were dealing with far too much and they were all she had. 

The explosion shocked her and she held tighter to the man in front of her. Lucius' words hit her ears and only then did she look up. Ona nodded slowly. "Of course."

A frowned formed on her face. "Was there not talk that Uriel could not leave this place?" She looked between the two men.[/color]

[color=9e0b0f]Algol-Uriel looked down to Ona for a moment, brow strained and exhausted with the constant arguing, visions, warnings-now the stress from the nearby din of the soldiers cutting short their time increasing it exponentially. While biting his lower lip he brought his free hand up to his forehead, holding it along with his breath for a moment before releasing, willing himself to clarity.
[/color]

[color=0076a3]"Algol Delacroix," Rothion firmly addressed. The sights along the water's edge completely collapse followed swiftly by the whirling winds and the flickering candles. The blonde prophet had already made his way across the pond whilst carrying his unconscious sister. "You already know of three possible solutions towards your predicament, however, there is yet one other solution that may indeed assist in your friends and near immediate family's escape. It is by far the most challenging and perhaps one that merits both the greatest rewards and equally disturbing risks, however, it is a viable solution and perhaps the most promising of elemental applications. We have under a dozen passing moments before Conqvist and his patron masters reach this chamber. You must choose now and once you do, there is no turning back."[/color]

[color=9e0b0f]"Choose what? What application?" he asked in worn exasperation. Then he heard the volume of the shouting spike and a cursed expression passed through his eyes while his lips moved otherwise. "God da-yes! Whatever it is, yes!" he yelled desperately.[/color]

[color=92278f]Ona was fearful. Uriel seemed drawn and strained, even further than herself. She held his arm tighter and offered as much of her strength as she could. An offer was made but details not forthcoming. She could feel the desperation in his body, the strain. 

Onatha held him tighter lending Uriel whatever strength she could.[/color]

[color=0076a3]In a respectful bow of the head, Rothion smiled curtly and shuddered as blood began to trickle down his nose. His ability to stand seemed strained and increasingly strenuous, yet the aimless look in his eyes indicated an entirely herculean channeling of elemental concentration. "A promising new ripple has taken precedence," he uttered through a laborious effort. His eyes glanced nervously towards the entrance where shouts and barked orders could be heard before resting upon Lucius, whom had succeeded in strapping together a series of gunpowder pouches. "The branches of fate have been severely altered to deliver newly emerging possibilities within the future." 

Through a simple nod, the blonde Premonist gently brought his unconscious sister upon a spacious location nearby before placing a reassuring hand along the weary Al-Mayrin Seer's arm, "Onatha, if you hope to save your friends, Algol's success concerns you as well! You must brave through your exhaustion to offer elemental assistance towards Algol's cause. We haven't the time to explain the effects of combined elemental effects beyond the notion that you and Algol must immediately work together to channel your elemental abilities towards the entrance!"[/color]

[color=92278f]Onatha looked confused as Rothion placed a hand on her arm. "Whatever is needed of me. What is it you would have me do? Do you want me to see where they are coming from? I-" 

She felt helpless. Her eyes turned to Uriel - Algol, whichever name he was going by it didn't matter. "Just tell me what you need of me and I will help in whatever way I can."[/color]

[color=9e0b0f]Uriel stared down to Rohion confusedly, the fatigue obviously hazing and weakening his mind as much as flesh. With a quick glance of his eyes towards Ona, he looked back to the blonde man below him. "I've never done combined magic before-and certainly not with a seer. [i]How[/i]?"
[/color]

[color=0076a3]Another explosion rocked the chamber, diverting Rothion's attention towards the entrance and ultimately surfacing a worrying expression. "Your combined disciplines have never been seen before in the history that elemental executions have existed. I can only lend and pass on what knowledge I have seen in long extinguished branches of reality and the effects Catherine and I have achieved. Algol, you are an accomplished Pyrourger of promising lethality and you must throw anything and everything towards the wall, in which my brother is futilely placing charges. You cannot hold back or the chance will be lost."

"Onatha," Rothion addressed as voices and barked orders began to echo louder along the Chamber entrance's other end, "You are a Seer and your gifts are of a much more refined and differing quality compared to my sister Catherine. You too must channel everything in your strength upon that wall however, you must do so in one push. You must also bring your abilities a step forward and ultimately focus upon a short and single point of that wall otherwise the chance will be lost!"

"You must both concentrate your abilities at exactly the same moment," he continued as his eyes rested upon his brother as the charges detonated along the wall section without penetrating so much as several meters of stone. Upon acknowledging his failure, Lucius cursed venomously and bellowed in frustration before forcefully slamming his fist along a nearby table littered with books. 

"Onatha, Algol-Uriel," Rothion hastily voiced, "[i][b]You must hurry![/b][/i]"[/color]

[color=9e0b0f]Algol bit his lower lip and nodded plainly, turning to the wall. He observed it for a moment, along with Lucius's failed blast before turning to Onatha, eyes crackling and hair standing on end across what of his body could be seen, skin turning pale as he began to pull every form of energy that he could into his hands and aura, the air whirling and whipping at them lightly.

"I will make a light that will pulse three times,"  he said, staring straight into the depths of her eyes as his own seemed to flash and crackle like fire and lightning. "On the third pulse, in the [i][b]exact[/b][/i] center, do it." He then turned towards the wall, gripping her hand tightly with his own and extending his own with his open palm and outstretched fingers parallel to the barrier ahead. The shadows around them began to dance just as much as the air while small bursts of flame and crackling jolts of lightning broke free in tiny lapses around his hand as he reared it in, focused it.

A ring of soft red and white light pulsed upon the wall like a painting, a dot in the center to mark their target. After an instant, it dimmed, a definite rhythm to it.

"One...."[/color]

[color=92278f]Ona marked the fact that he stared into her eyes without flinching, not unnerved by the pupil-less orbs. She used the tight grip on her hand to help her focus.  She had never done anything like this before and was not sure what was going to happen. 

Onatha turned her attention to the wall. She heard Algol's voice begin to count and as she exhaled she closed her mind to the rest of the room. The sound of voices was but a dull roar to her ears.  Ona was waiting for the moment, for the third pulse.  She didn't think about how little energy she had in her or how much she had pushed her ability already. They needed to get out of here and she would do whatever it took.[/color]

[color=9e0b0f]"Two..." he said, the air going still and light-chilled, even, as the energy pulled in, hair standing on end as though in the midst of a thunderbolt. Everything stood on edge, at the ready, the anxiousness in the air palpable. A glinting spark of light began to coallesce above the palm of his outstretched hand.

"... THREE!" he screamed, releasing and jaunting forward all of the magic within and about him towards the wall in an explosion of roaring fire, crackling lightning and brilliant light dancing and intertwined with lacing, twisting shadows.[/color]

[color=92278f]Ona could feel the air around her grow cold. She focused on the spot, waited for it. It felt as if he would never say three and then....

Her eyes focused on the spot and Ona closed her mind to everything else. She stared as if she could see into the dot. Past the dot. Into the space beyond it. Her hand tightened in Algol's. Every bit of energy and focus she had left was directed at the spot.[/color]

[color=9e0b0f]An enormous collision of wind and incendiary fury melted together into a perplexing display of thrown together forces that could only be described as a clash between the divine and supernatural. The fires pulsating and roaring across the Pyrourger's outstretched hand seemingly disappeared into the wall, as if an invisible void consumed the scorching heat that bathed and fueled the oncoming flames. During the same moment, a thread sized stream of blinding light began to slowly flicker into view from the Al-Mayrin Seer's hand before the sound of thunder filled the entire chamber. Lightening crackled across the room, forcing all three bystanders, Lucius and the other non-elementally gifted to dive for cover as streaks of charged bolts wildly scattered across the Chamber.

In a sudden flash, a ripple began to form along the wall in a circular shape that quickly expanded as a sea of blinding light began to pulsate and project off of both Pyrourger and Seer. Within the same instance, the sound of wails and inhuman howls filled the air whilst the walls danced with shadows shaped in grotesque forms, jagged spikes, and razor sharp teeth. Moments later, the shadows along the ripple covered wall fearfully scattered away given how quickly the ripple had expanded. Before long, the candles along the walls completely dissipated in lue of the ripple's straightening complexion.

From his flattened location along the ground, Lucius gaped in an expression that bordered between absolute horror and utter perplexment at the fiery ring emanating around the pulsating circular hole that had since replaced the wall. Wind jettisoned out of the circle's middle as the sound of the pounding surf followed, unveiling the sights of the golden sun cascading off the Voltisian Bay. Some leagues away stood the Citadel Chareil-Besançon and some distance away, an assortment of familiar vessels bearing Ivalian flags could be seen making good upon an North-Western Trade Wind. The smell of the sea was easily recognizable and the bright dot burning into the clear blue skies.

"What ... [i]what is happening?![/i]" Lucius screamed as the winds and sea water ejected through the circle and upon his face.

"Interesting," Rothion calmy answered as he glanced between the circle and the Chamber Entrance, "A ripple created through the use of Pyromancy and Seeing! One that seemingly allows for ... [i][b]instantaneous travel between two distant locations![/b][/i]"[/color]

[color=92278f]Ona stared at the opening, her mind only barely comprehending what she was seeing. She was used to seeing places not in front of her but this was different. This place was there- she could smell the water and feel the wind. She didn't know how they had done it but they had. She poured all her energy into it and she could feel it giving way. 

"I can't-"  She gripped Algol harder, her body leaning into him. Ona continued to stare at the hole. "Hurry.."[/color]

[color=9e0b0f]Uriel, for his part, barely saw any of it-yet what he felt was beyond any words that he could think of. Light, heat and darkness coursed through him, the voice of his spirit and spirits within him screaming far louder than his lungs in an exploding riptide outward. The stars danced in both his consciousness and eyes alike, the cacaphony of plasma, energy and darkness giving way to the void of mute and numb blindness, all sound no more comprehended than to a babe as he clawed at the air with his outstretched hand as though his sense of balance had abandoned him as well.

He stumbled heavily forward-leg giving way beneath him and catching himself as he fell. He clung to Ona desperately, now relying on her as much as she him. His chest and belly heaved in desperate breaths as he rasped out feebly in a dry voice, "... go... [i]now[/i]..." he wailed against his drowning throat, crawling upright.[/color]

[color=92278f]Ona moved with Uriel. She needed his support and he was barely standing as well. Her hand still held his tightly. "Everyone needs to go...we can't hold this much longer." Concern overrode exhaustion. She helped Uriel up though she kept her eyes on the opening. "Please go!"  

She was not nearly strong enough to pull him up but she tried as best she could. Her arms went around him. Every part of her body protested but she ignored it. Her mind wanted to shut down but she didn't allow it.[/color]

[color=0076a3]“I hope to see you on the other side, if there is one.” Lord Bahram calmly voiced. His arm had already leveled to where he had directed a cocked and loaded musket pointed towards the doorway. Instead of taking position, however, the mysterious Sarifen took several quick steps and hurled through the hole and … to the amazement of the others out over the cliffs. A splash was heard soon afterwards followed by the sound of the pounding surf and the cry of seagulls.

Gritting his teeth, the Prince momentarily glanced towards the Chamber exit where he heard the sound of more footsteps and barked orders. Rising, the Prince scrambled towards the circle before a powerful gust of wind and the spray of the sea nearly knocked him off balance. Cursing, he seized the near lifeless form of his sister and bellowed in rage before screaming, "[i][b]ROTHION[/b][/i][i][b]I beg of you!![/b][/i] What can we do?! I will [i]not[/i] leave my friends!!”

"You have little choice in this matter for the future of Carcassonne and many innocents rests in your survival. There is great promise for you as the King of a new Kingdom of Valania, however, the Kingdom will crumble following your death." Rothion answered before retrieving several a satchel filled with liquid ensconced vials, tombs, and a wax sealed scroll, "I have one price to ask and it is that you carry this satchel in the hopes that it will bear fruit. In time, you will understand what it is I speak of. You must not allow anyone to know of the satchel's contents existence until you've contacted the Ecuyer D'Aubigne. I am certain you are familiar with the man given your previous associations earlier yesterday. [i]If[/i] you are wise, you will heed my words for there is a slim chance that you are able to find [i]another way[/i] to ensure the future of this entire continent. You [i]must[/i] look beyond Valania, but to Sarife itself. You [i]must[/i] look to [i]the people[/i] to avert the dark future that will await us."

"[i]A pox be unto thee, Rothion!![/i] Lucius screamed as an explosion sounded from the Chamber entrance, "[i][b]Valania has suffered enough under the depravities of Emperor Anoush and Sarife's Bastard Houses!! How can you even sit here and determine what fate awaits us??!![/b][/i]"

Sighing, the Blonde Premonist once against glanced towards the Chamber entrance where shouts and the sound of hammer swings and shattered rocks could be heard, "I am sorry, dear brother. An ironic choice of nomenclature for what will await Voltas, however, we are out of time."

In protest, the Prince had only opened his mouth only to find his brother manage a forceful shove that unbalanced him forward and through the pulsating circle. A string of death defying curses were heard before a large splash and the sounds of the pounding surf followed. It was a far cry from what any of the world's schools of logic could even comprehend, however, nothing could quite deliver what happened next. The scriptures along the walls suddenly pulsated a glowing red as the sounds of ghastly screams could be heard across the Chamber.

"My loyalties lie with Lucius and the Kingdom," the lady slayer resolutely announced as she holstered her weapons, "I wish you all the best and someday perhaps we will meet again."

Without speaking further, Dae rushed through the circle and dove head first into the pounding surf that awaited below. The sights of the three figures reuniting and another swimming away could be seen even as another explosion sent shockwaves rippling across the Chamber. Streaks of searing hot lights suddenly began to splinter away from the scriptures along the walls and through the armor encasing Algol-Uriel's chest piece. Once again the inscriptions along scriptures began to flicker from shades of orange to a molten holt hues of a glowing bright red illuminations.

"Algol-Uriel, the past cannot be unwritten and you must know that my sister's demons have been expelled and found a new host. You may find it difficult to move without enduring immense pains even greater than what you are now living through. I am sorry, however, there was no other way to ensure Catherine's departure. We have only minutes before Conqvist and his benefactors gain entry. Your strength may prove more than enough to hold the barrier at bay, however, it seems that only you or Onatha may cross before it collapses. You must choose whom will escape and whom must depart ..."[/color]

[color=92278f]Ona stared at Rothion for a moment. "Go Uriel. I am not supposed to be here, this isn't my time. That should have been long past. Go and I will stay. They need your help."  

Her face was soft as she looked at Uriel. "I feel that would might have been friends had things played out differently." A sad smile moved across her lips. "You have a great deal of tasks ahead of you."  

She tried to help him towards the opening. Her sight turned back to Rothion. "It is a cruel thing not to tell us this before you had us open the door..."

It wasn't a question to her of who would stay. She hadn't had to think about it at all. She was out of time here. This wasn't her place. No matter what Rothion showed them that was not her future. 

Ona turned her eyes from Rothion. "You should go through before we are out of strength."[/color]

[color=0076a3]"Unfortunately none of our destinies are defined by our sacrifices, but in how we accept our responsibilities," Rothion answered as his eyes wandered across the sights of the bobbing figures down below. The weariness and drowsy appearance spoke of a burden of an entirely different nature, yet his steely eyed glance held the complexion of a man that had accepted his decision with fortitude. "Your kindness is appreciated and noted, Onatha, however, my place is not beyond that crossing. Whether you accept your existence within the present is something you must discover yourself, however, one reality remains and it is that you have a duty to your people."[/color]

[color=92278f]Onatha shook her head. She had neither time nor energy to deal with him. If Rothion wasn't going through than so be it. She held onto Uriel, helping him up from the ground.[/color]

[color=9e0b0f]Uriel watched all of them go through hazy, blurred vision with an open-mouthed grimace. The sensations of the world around them were slowly returning to him-yet the ebbing was slow and did little to his fading strength. A weak chortle died in his throat at Lucius dashing through and was too weak to nod to the strange Lord Bahram.  The distant pounding surf echoed through, salt stinging at his raw senses. With a groaning exhale, he lifted a foot to step forward.

Yet, then, the walls had pulsed red and the quiet screams that one usually must open their mind's ears to hear shrieked throughout the room with the shrill voices of the damned. Dae said something in their regard, yet it was lost to him through the tingling sensation running up his spine like a current of lightning and shaking him to the core of his bones with dread.

Then his scriptures of light began to dance off of the stone and through the air, the aurora whipping through the air and into the garment of plated metal encasing his chest in a blazing light of orange and red-and with that molten, liquid fire came once again that soul-flaying, spirit-consuming agony of a soul being twisted, bound, scraped and burnt by shadow fangs and forbidden shackles. Too worn, his mouth hung open in twitching, trembling, world-destroying pain void of even a scream.

It passed faster this time-or perhaps the senses of his soul had become too damaged and left him numb. Which or whatever it was, the claws of shadows in his eyes receded, letting the man drenched in all that fear could push from a man and taking a trembling step forward while, ironically, Rothion's voice now penetrated and rung loudly and clear inside of his head.

Demons. Even more; already he had taken into himself more than the mages had suspected a mortal capable of and surviving, let alone retain their sanity. Yet now more were wrapped in a web around his soul by jagged fusion like desperate beasts wound around the inner cord of his spine with wire of barbed and jagged steel. It seared beyond heat, beyond electricity, yet, somehow, he was still there-and able to move, he found as he weakly placed a foot in front of him and pressed forward, shakily taking yet another step.

The two had reached the door just after Rothion revealed his final wretched truth-that only one could pass and that the other must remain behind. He glanced back, tear-streaked eyes plain and unchanging in misery at just this side of madness and despair. After a moment, though, he swallowed and looked to Ona expectingly, saying naught with words, rather with his eyes that bade her say her final thoughts.[/color]

[color=92278f]Onatha felt calm. She looked at Uriel. She felt at peace with the decision.

"Tell Lucius I said thank you for finding me, for keeping me safe."

She smiled sadly. "Be safe." She lifted his hand to put it to her cheek. "Good bye."

She stepped back and let his hand go.[/color]

[color=9e0b0f]Algol-'The Demon star- Uriel-'The flame or light of God' smiled tenderly back with a knowing, resigned smile and, for all of his indignant pride, resentment, fear and pain, leaned into the touch for the brief, fleeting eternity that it lasted. Then it was gone and her pulled away, ready. He lifted his heavy lips into a smile.

Then he lifted his hand to the side and swept it across them, force jaunting her off of her feet and into the exit through and beyond, looking to her with a broken, grateful smile.[/color]

[hr]

[center][b]Chapter 1: Episode 2 – Seeing is Believing Conclusion[/b][/center]

[hr]

[color=0076a3]As the Seer passed through the shrinking portal, a large gust of wind blew threw through the pulsating opening as the sun's cascading rays glittered across the chamber floors. Nothing short of a large sigh of relief escaped Rothion's mouth given his exposure to the ever flowing branches of fate. His composure said as much as did the weariness that spread across his face and if ever there existed a stoic young man whom had seen too much for several life times, Rothion's composure was second to none. The situation certainly could not have alleviated through the series of shouts, barked military orders, and the cacophony of explosions that resonated within the Chamber's entrance. It served as a crippling dose of dread that the entrance's destruction spelled the Lord Regent's arrival and untold wrath that would seal Uriel - Algol's fate. All the same, the Interior Chamber's condition took on a life of its own as the wards and torches began to flicker followed swiftly by the ever creeping shadows that had slowly begun spread across the walls. Most notably, the Chamber's illuminating glow began to take on a strange reddish-orange of a purple hue, illustrating how evidently fragile the balance of protections had existed to kept the demons at bay.

"Algol - Uriel, your sacrifice may determine the very future of this very continent, for decades, [i][b]even centuries[/b][/i]," the Premonist transiently voiced, "Although ... I fear we have little choice than to follow another branch of fate. [i][b]It has come to this moment![/b][/i] Lucius has set into motion a series of events that cannot be disrupted and this is where we must say our good byes. I sense this maybe the last moment we see each other for a very long time and perhaps one day, in another life, we may see each other again. I must ask that you take care in your ability to decide upon what is right."

As if on cue, a sad smile spread across the Premonist's lips in a manner befitting a stoic man accepting a mortal fate. The rising smoke only served to further emphasize his point as the ashen wisps had began to waft through the Chamber entrance where the powerful smell of charred gunpowder and clay odors quickly shrouded the room in white and grey plumes alike. Within a moment, the pulsating wards took on a strange magenta hue, provoking Rothion to action. His hands inched towards an in-scripture along the walls and within moments he had ripped the parcel into his hands. The motion had a near immediate effect as a cascade of loud and ghastly screams quickly plunged the entire room into darkness followed by streams of red light that rapidly peeled away from Algol - Uriel's chest. Stepping forth, Rothion wasted little time in leaping across the chamber and by his shoulders, seized the Pyrourger into a locked gripped. The ghastly screams continued to fill the room where upon they were to be joined through the Premonist's own painful screams. As quickly as the screams had begun, silence soon ensued and within moments, the Premonist leaped backwards followed by the sound of a large explosion that rocked the Chamber's interior.

Through labored pants, Rothion's hands rose before a large burst of light pulsated from his fingers and towards the still pulsating, yet shrinking portal. All at once, the opening once again enlarged to a size even greater than it had ever appeared and without hesitation, the Premonist had already seized Algol - Uriel by the waist and thrust him through the portal. The man had only just crossed through the opening when the Chamber entrance burst open and the sounds of footsteps and barking military orders flooded through the Chamber's walls. A moment later, the portal collapsed into nothing as Algol - Uriel began to descend face first into ... [i][b]darkness[/b][/i] ...[/color]