Page 165 of Cerulean Truth
“Wait here,” Dennis Dale ordered, entering the Main Cave by himself.
As the four of us stood outside, I noticed Martin shifting his weight from one foot to the other a few times. “Are you okay?” I whispered under my breath. Martin nodded, but he had visibly paled since we’d seen him last. What was up with him?
Switching my focus to James, I saw his Skindo glide slowly into his hand, his fingers clutching its hilt. He was clearly getting ready to fight, which was doing nothing to alleviate my own concern.
My nerves were on edge, a knot tightening in my stomach with each passing moment. Every instinct screamed at me to flee, but I forced myself to stand my ground, steeling my resolve for whatever awaited us inside the cavern.
Seconds turned into minutes and by the time Dennis Dale came back to get us, my anxiety was through the roof.
Dale motioned us to follow him and I took the first step inside the Cave. James flanked my left, Martin my right. The Maumars were right behind me and I couldn’t help but feelless protected than this afternoon, when I’d been surrounded by James’s friends.
Why did I come here?
The descent took nearly twenty minutes, my breathing growing shallow with each step. I fought to keep the rising panic at bay, silently urging myself to stay calm. As if he could sense my growing discomfort, James shot me a stern look, his non-verbal communication as efficient as always: “Don’t show any weakness.”
I swallowed back my fear and focused on him instead. James would get me out. Whatever was about to happen, he would get me out safely. I was sure of it. The feminist voice inside my head yelled at me for being so reliant on a man, but in that moment, I needed him more than my principles.
At the end of the stairs, Dale halted us abruptly, his hand raised in a commanding gesture. With a swift motion, he uncloaked an impressive entrance before us, while a shimmering seal emerged in front of it, pulsating with energy.
Dale stepped forward, his hand hovering over the seal as he translated his energy signature with practiced precision. The seal responded, recognizing his unique resonance, generating a subtle glow. With a low hum, the gate parted, offering us a quick view of what to expect once inside. I tried to sneak a peek but Dale stepped in front of me, blocking my view entirely.Ass.
As the Maumars approached the sealed doors, dread gnawed at my insides. I knew I lacked the ability to translate my energy as the others could. The Maumars opened the gate quickly and moved inside. Fear threatened to rise again, until a memory flickered to life—the moment Stephen and I had parted Cyclos’s river using a strand of my hair. I discreetly plucked a hair from my head and placed it onto a marking on the wall. A wave of relief washed over me as the marking responded to my energy, granting me access.
James was quick to follow me and brushed the back of my hand softly with his in passing.
My heart pounded in my chest, each second dragging out into an eternity. Walking inside the chamber, tension hung thick in the air, suffused with the fiery red glow emanating from the surrounding cliffs. The room itself seemed to be bathed in this hue, casting large shadows along the walls.
Finally meeting face to face with the Board, I hadn't known what to expect. Looking upon their faces, each of them bore the hallmark of a lifetime spent with great responsibility, their features etched with lines of experience and insight.
The Board was seated on a raised platform at the far end of the chamber, their forms partially hidden by the dim light. Positioned in a semicircle, their chairs were arranged in a deliberate way, each member facing toward the center of the room where our group now stood together. The raised platform itself was decorated with fancy carvings and designs, showing off its importance.
Each seat was made from dark wood that shined in the torchlight. As the group walked closer, the Board members stayed seated at their high-up spot, showing they had power and control over what was going to happen next. Like there’d be any doubt.
Dennis Dale positioned himself between us and them, seemingly acting as our spokesperson, which aggravated me immensely. I barely knew the man and trusted him about as much as I trusted a snake in the grass.
As the tension thickened, Maria, Leader of Cyclos, stepped forward to address the assembly. Her voice cut through the silence like a knife, commanding attention and respect from all those present. "We are so deeply saddened by the news of Antwerp," she began, her words laced with sorrow and concern. "Please, would you be so kind as to inform us what happened?"
Her request was met with silence. I shifted a little, trying to alleviate my unease.
“Radicals!” a voice rasped from the stage in front of us. A voice, so chilling, it sent instant shivers down my spine.
“They came at high noon,” another voice joined in. “Their hunger for power and their need for destruction too great to withstand.”
Maria furrowed her brows and as I glanced sideways, James seemed as confused as her.
Shoving Dale aside, James stepped forward, positioning himself in front of me, shielding me directly from the Board’s view. "How is that possible? Antwerp housed five thousand of the most powerful magi of all time. The Radicals we’ve encountered so far have been untrained, unfocused, and certainly not powerful enough to take down the epicenter of the magi-world," he stated firmly, his voice tinged with disbelief.
The Board fell into a heavy silence, their expressions unreadable.
Then, with a swift gesture, one of the larger figures conjured a haze so quickly, I almost missed it, and translated a blue circle into the center of the room, its surface rippling like liquid and casting a ghostly pallor.
Sensing the tension, Martin drew closer, positioning himself protectively in front of me. "Relax, it’s just a memory," James whispered, his voice a reassuring murmur.
As the circle's ethereal light enveloped us, the air hummed with a magical energy, and a vivid scene began to materialize within its confines. The memory revealed an object of ominous beauty—an enigmatic spire-like structure. Its softly pulsing core emitted a faint silver glow that bathed the intricate patterns etched into its surface. Despite its simplicity, the device exuded an aura of immense power, hinting at the obvious darkness it held.
Martin gasped at the sight of it, while James frowned.
"What is that?" I whispered softly.
