Rejoining | Ch. 34

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XXXIV.

Mind


They stood around the circle as it began to glow. Cedric and Okella braced themselves. Ithlo stood back.

"O, might beyond our realm, into the plunged and sacred sea of seas, the dirac, the abyss, and the pit. From hell make your presence known, grant the boy words unknown, and ley to cure a fitful plight. Make certain that his blood bleeds red for eons and decades beyond his youth, and passes it to even those uncouth."

His half-rhyme seemed to satisfy the circle, as a thin veil of green fog began to pour out.

Then came the clicking of a heel – someone was approaching from somewhere. From the poison fog, a silhouette began to form.

That's him – Throkos' true form. He's...

Before he could get a good look–

BWSHHHH!

The communion circle burst into horrid vapor. Rithi collapsed and clawed at this throat. Falskar recoiled and sprung to his feet. The skin around Rithi's mouth began to crackle and break...

Cedric stumbled backward. The poison caused his own throat to lock up – the conscious world was becoming visible again through the illusion. His watering eyes locked onto Falskar. The boy's irises had turned green. His face contorted in pain and terror.

Then Cedric's eyes locked onto another figure – black and purple robes, pale skin... She was standing far, through where the wall should have been. But it was all fading to black now. And Rykaedi grinned sinisterly all the while.


He stumbled back and the vision was gone. Okella's tendrils retracted into his wrist. Throkos glared, spun a kick across the ground, and knocked Cedric down. But then, Cedric had never been standing. He was right back where he was before the illusions started. Something was off – Throkos still looked as he had in the flashback, young and carefree. The stern rage locked in his eyes was not fitting to his face.

Grivonym was in the poison-baron's hand. He stood looming over Cedric for longer than he should have. His grip tightened.

"If you've questions, ask them yourself." The voice was hissed. The respirator began to reform, and Falskar was once again replaced by Throkos.

There were a thousand ways Cedric could have attacked – but he knew they wouldn't work. The poison was targeting his Etherians. One of the poisons, at least. The sweat pouring from his forehead and arms told him that another poison was wracking his body as well. And the twisting visions weren't helping matters.

"You're clever." Cedric admitted through panting. "And you stopped Okella's attack. I'm impressed, admittedly."

Throkos shifted his head. He brandished Grivonym again.

"What are you after?"

There went the blade. Cedric winced. But the tip only scraped his raised cheek, and a small ounce of esera leaked out. He turned back to Throkos, almost disappointedly.

"You don't want to kill me, do you?"

"I've killed ten thousand men all the same as you. I've killed more than you'll ever meet in your life. I do not hesitate. But the poison would destroy my target if I killed you now, or if I cut you with the Dragonrend." He ran his dark finger along the edge of the blade. A green mist began to pour out, but quickly quenched.

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