Crimson

Chapter Thirty-Five

Walking further into the obelisk, the smaller tower surrounded by five large edifices, each containing a key component of the ruling parties of Reyopa, the Imperial Legate remained posed as she walked into the rotating structure as Pligal and the other Centuria followed. Pausing before turning back, her orbs met the Centuria escort of Pligal.

"You have done well, Ishhgil." The Supreme Commander stated.

Placing her orbs upon Pligal, noticing the new cerulean wrappings adorning him. The chosen design of her own, the Imperial Legate smiled as she orbed him.

"Those fabrics serve you well, young one. I welcome you into my elite Centuria."

Behind her, the walls continued to shift as sweet aromas surrounded them. As the brown tower stood firm on the outside, closing quietly yet quickly, the inside appeared a world in itself. Tangerine laden walls embossed with a clashing black, brown and green streaks. Swirls of intricate designs flooded Pligal's orbs. Thin silver bindings wrapped around sheets of orange overlaid metal, holding the frame in place while the pieces moved to seat themselves. Clicking softly as they adjusted to their closed position, the light of outside faded as the plasma beams fixed upon the sheets of metal glowed soothingly.

The chamber housing them, shifting as it swelled ebbed with light continued to wow Pligal as it moved smoothly. Comfortably holding them, the ceiling hung high above them as the room allowed for Pligal to walk around it, inspecting carefully as the Imperial Legate and Ishhgil watched him swoon.

Finally closing, the building seemed to hum as it held them within its secure structure. The plasma radiating gently, lovingly licking the walls with its caress. Pligal turned toward the watchful orbs of the two, unshaken by what he witnessed, but hungry for more. Stepping forward, he bowed in supplication, while making a fist in a sign of respect.

Turning his gaze downward, he said heavily, "I am honored to be in your presence Supreme Commander. I am not worthy to receive such privilege."

"You speak the truth, little hatchling." Ishhgil spat.

Shooting Ishhgil a glare, redoubling her stance, lifting her head in a commanding tone, the Supreme Commander's orbs burned her subordinate. Recoiling, Ishhgil shrunk within their selves. Biting their lip, Ishhgil stepped backward into the chamber wall. Its circular design nestled against the Centuria, comforting them as fear circulated within them.

Watching their underling cower away as a hatchling scared of their own scales, the Imperial Legate relaxed slightly before turning back towards Pligal's supplication. Walking towards him, her blue wrappings with yellow and light brown swirls shifted, caressed her as it hug upon her frame, tight, yet slackened.

Placing her right talons upon him gently as Pligal continued to avert his orbs, she said coolly, calmly, "Stand, young one. I must show you something. Come this way." She said turning away and walking towards the chamber wall.

Standing, at once to her order, Pligal walked with her toward the edge of the chamber wall. Curiously, he watched her as she reached into her wrappings in covering her torso and pulled out a small thin object. Turning, the Imperial Legate met Pligal's orbs before exposing what she beheld. The light of the plasma torches around them reflected the purple glow of the plasma. Crimson in hue, sitting in the middle of her pad, lightly held by her talons, she looked into his orbs before exposing the nuances of this sheathed blade.

From hilt to curved sheath, deep red in color, it slightly reflected purple specks as Pligal's orbs became transfixed upon it. Silently, it entranced him. Quickly, he breathed as this small blade, the size of one of his talons called out to him without making a sound. Fighting the urge to rip it from her pad, Pligal tightened his own talons into his own pads.