Bloodflowers Bloom (The Astral Wanderer Book 2), D'Artagnan Rey [essential reading .txt] 📗

felt a thumping in the box on his waist, he opened the container, took the mask out, and smiled pleasantly at it.

The ghoul brought one of the scholars, who was a sputtering mess from the ordeal. Salvo nodded to the gate. “Open it.”

“You can’t be serious!” the prisoner babbled. “You want to go in there? You have killed anyone here who has any chance to contain it.”

“It works as well,” he muttered and traced the etchings on the mask. “It wasn’t my goal but it benefits my master all the same.”

“You know who did this?” the scholar asked, equally aghast and angry. “What are you trying to do to our kingdom?”

“If it makes you feel any better, he’s after the world as a whole, I think. He’s been rather vague about that,” Salvo admitted and turned to look at the kneeling man. “Now, open the gate or I will after I dispose of you slowly and painfully.”

Although he was shaking, the man grasped his knees and shook his head. “You intended to do that anyway. Like hell I’ll willingly do anything for you.”

He gave the man a wide grin and turned the mask as he took his shades off and slid them into a pocket. “Well, you are certainly right about that first part.” He placed the mask on his face. The scholar raised an eyebrow briefly before his eyes widened in fear as the mask seemed to reshape itself and assume a darker visage of its wearer. The fire mage pointed his wand at the head of the scholar, who closed his eyes and said a prayer to the Astrals before the red crystal of Salvo’s majestic flared and the man’s body was turned instantly to ashes.

“Huh.” The large man looked at his wand and tapped the side of his mask. “I didn’t mean to do it so fast. This is a powerful little accessory, isn’t it?” He looked at the emotionless ghoul and sighed. “Why am I asking you? Let us go and find our real prey.” He turned to the gate and burned the runes off before he blasted the shield until it shattered. The darkness held within spilled past him and enveloped the area.

Salvo began to shiver in anticipation. Even amongst all this strange magic, he could feel them not too far off. He heard himself laugh which was uncharacteristic of him, but he didn’t bother to stop. Single-minded and determined, he marched into the dome and the ghouls followed. A voice in his head repeated only two words—kill them.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The group raced through the abyss, now in an area that brought to mind a crop field in the midst of decay. Above them, the clouds began to disperse but didn’t fade away for some reason and instead, thickened and expanded to blanket the whole sky.

Devol could feel the magic that powered everything. Different types of magic felt different, but none were truly anything other than slight variations—a pressure, a small heat, a haze similar to walking into fog or smoke, all things that typically, only those with considerable experience would notice as peculiar or a sign.

But this was different. A feeling of heaviness permeated the entire area, not only his body. As he ran, he felt he not only had to run with extra weight attached to him but also as if he had to push through something that tried to keep him away.

Both Asla and Jazai’s breathing began to labor like his did. Was this merely an effect of the abyssal magic now that they were closer to the center? Or was it caused by the presence of something else within? This was more tangible than anything he had fought or witnessed before.

As they drew closer to the center of the field, Devol pushed himself to go faster and so was the first to break through. A massive pit yawned in front of him, at least a quarter of a mile wide but incredibly deep. Obelisks floated around a large, swirling abyss in the center of the clearing and purple and red runes glowed before their color began to dim.

“What is this?”

Wulfsun’s jaw clenched as he shook his head. “It is what I suspected, lad—a rift or a tear between dimensions. Those obelisks must be a part of some type of ritual they used to cause it.”

“So if we destroy the obelisks the tear will close?” Farah asked and unsheathed her blade. She rolled the sleeves of her jacket up and lunged at one of the obelisks as the others finally joined them. The bright glow of her light magic swirled around her hands and into her blade as she tried to pierce one of the stones.

“Farah, don’t!” the Templar shouted but she already had. The runes flared, turned white, and something struck her chest. She was catapulted back and thankfully, was caught by Jazai and Devol before she could make impact with the earth.

Her blade flared as she stood. She held it aloft and readied herself for another attempt to destroy one of the obelisks, but Wulfsun ran in front and blocked her path.

“Stop it, woman!” he shouted. Even at full volume, his words were barely audible above the roar of the wind and the unnatural howl that issued from the portal. “Destroying the obelisks won’t do anything right now. If we had destroyed them before the rift was opened, that might have been useful but at this point, they are what is holding it together.”

“Then what would happen if we destroyed them? Wouldn’t that close the tear?” Asla asked.

“Not necessarily. It’s hard to tell but the tear may be sustaining itself. If anything, destroying the obelisks will cause the rift to grow wild. It might slow it temporarily but could also cause it to tear even more,” he explained.

Farah pursed her lips but nodded and lowered her blade. Devol steadied himself and they peered at the scene below. The rift Wulfsun spoke of appeared to be similar to a portal, but