Bren and Shalom slipped into the dark edges of the room, getting lost in the crowd surging towards the centre of the room to get a look at the Crystal Heir.
Looks like we won't be needing that distraction Chadwicks
Cadence's voice filtered into her brain as they quickly slid into a small gap in the illusion. It was a mistake that was bound to happen when keeping up an illusion this complex and Bren had counted on such a mistake happening.
Shalom discarded his suit jacket and Bren let go of the cape, Broke of the pointy heels of her shoes before tucking them into a hidden seam and detached her skirts from the bodice revealing tactical pants with pockets and straps all equipped with a variety of weapons. Shalom raised a brow and Bren shook her head, "What, I can't exactly fight in that fussy skirt, now can I?"
Shalom just grinned before lifting his sleeves to show off twin daggers that were strapped to his forearms. He clicked his heels against each other and little knives that gleamed with very sharp edges slid out smoothly with a barely audible slick. Bren let out a breathless laugh and snuck around a corner and into a hallway, that according to her blueprints should lead to a balcony that was attached to the main living area of the mansion. They encountered two guards on the way to the balcony from whom they carefully hid. The rest of it went without any hindrance. Cadence sent daily updates on the positions of The Dictator, along with his wife and entourage. None of them was let out of sight. So far Twyll had been on display and answered a few questions (mostly ' I don't know ' and the occasional, 'that is fascinating') It was hilarious to see the visuals Cadence sent of the indignant elitists and their tittering entourages.
They reached the balcony and silently slid through the doors. The night wasn't very dark and had enough light to know that this balcony was not there for aesthetic purposes or otherwise. It was purely a front for the entrance to the main wing of the mansion where the Dictator's most prized possessions were safeguarded. The office was located at the far end of a long, winding corridor and you needed a password to get in. They didn't know if it was a number or a word or a sentence or even a complicated pattern. They were winging it for now and that will have to do.
Slowly, they crept to the wall on the side and Shalom went to work, carefully probing with his energies for kinks or any abnormalities in the wall. This was the only part of the house that connected to the main wing and therefore their only lead. Shalom's purple eyes were screwed in concentration and then a creak that was followed by a wall sliding towards the balcony and revealing a long corridor lit with torches. Bren and Shalom walked along the dirt walls. They didn't meet anyone on the way but they kept an eye out for traps and triggers. The ceiling of the tunnel was cloaked with darkness that even the torch's light couldn't penetrate. The walls were damp and painted over with whorls of black and red that intertwined to form a multitude of patterns. A woman with flowing ebony hair, a geode glaring bright red, a world at the beginning of time. Then, the colours get darker and the scenes more intense. The woman crumbles into ash and a new woman takes her place, the glaring red of the geode melts into darkness and from the darkness rise creatures, monstrous and evil. Bren shudders. It's the story of how the Tem were brought into existence. A sorceress who took control of the second Core Crystal and turned it into fierce. Despicable. She disappeared with the second Crystal a century before. The first Core Crystal is the only thing that is keeping the continent from collapsing in on itself. The crop yields, water resources, weather patterns; really everything has gone awry.
Shalom's hands dragged along the walls. They glowed lavender and cast a ghostly light on the images. "It's like a shrine, almost."
Bren let out a breath, "We all know that something is going on. From the time that Aiden was sent for that bogus mission to now, with Twyll's appearance. It's like someone is playing God."
"Look, a door."
The arched wood was crudely carved with vines and flowers. It was beautiful, in a raw manner. The brass knobs were tarnished in a few places. The hinges seemed to be well oiled though which would eradicate chances of the door creaking. They didn't have any clue as to how many guards were beyond the door or how many were trained in Wielding. It was the most unprepared they had ever been. Shalom carefully reached out lavender probes of energy. They snaked under the door like wisps of neon smoke. It was quiet, other than the occasional whoosh of a phantom wind.
Bren shivered.
Shalom reeled them back and slowly pushed open the doors. No guards with blazing swords and angry shouts. They paused for a moment and then snuck into the room beyond. There was next to no visibility in the room but it looked like the ceiling arched up and there were shadows of wooden rafters and flowing lengths of fabrics. The torches caused shadows even eerier than the fabrics that made no sound as they billowed on a phantom wind. Silver candelabras were holding olive-green, Bayberry candles. They lit the comfortable looking green chaise with gold embroidered pillows and fur throws. The fireplace was cold with a small pile of ash and pieces of charred wood. The walls were draped with silver curtains with tasselled edges and the floors were carpeted with rugs that were so soft that they absorbed their footsteps. Their clothes rustled as they crept along the walls to the corridor at the far end. It was shadowed and they had to raise their torches higher to see down the corridor; it was lined with doors with the same crude carvings of vines and flowers along with the tarnished brass knobs. Chandeliers were placed at even intervals but none of them were lit. They dripped with Crystals that emanated pure energy. Shalom let out a breath as they walked further along the corridor.
The susurration of the blueprints in Bren's hands seemed to echo along the narrow hallway. The office seemed to be at the end of the passageway. They continued walking, not saying a word. Their breathing sounded way too loud and the utter silence was suffocating. The shadows became longer, as they passed by the various doors. The walls were dark green and chipped. A feeling of dread and fear settled in Bren's throat as she swallowed. Shalom's brows were creased. His lips moved in silent prayer and lavender wisps flowed out and towards the doors at the end of the
corridor. They disappeared into the keyholes.
"What about the password?" Bren whispered.
"I don't think there is," Shalom murmured, his voice distracted. "Release your energy."
Bren's eyes glowed with repressed light as wisps of coloured light, similar to Shalom's but in ruby red, extended from her raised fingers. They wandered over to the keyholes and explored the tumblers, winding into the spaces. Bren let out a shocked breath.
"The tumblers are moving. We need to push the tumblers up at the same time,"
Shalom nodded, his eyes gleaming with challenge. "If we make even the smallest mistake an alarm will start and a relay mechanism will lower lockdown procedures."
"That is ingenious. Controlling so many lines of energy will make our concentration erratic. This needs precision."
"Yes, it does, Which is why you will do exactly as I say."
Bren raised a brow. "Remember yourself boy. I've lived a century more than you. All you know, I have taught. You would do well to remember."
Shalom jerked his head. Swiftly.
"Alright then, I want you to slowly loosen your hold on the energies. Will them to clings to the cylinders and push upwards. I will concentrate on the lower tumbles and push them downwards. We do the last click on three. Not after or before, on." Bren nodded as she slowly willed the little red wisps to spread, like a film- onto the moving cylinders and slowly pushed upward. Drops of sweat trickled down her spine. Shalom's eyes were like pinpoints of light in the shadowed hallway. The air was tense with dread and anticipation. When they both reached the top and bottom of
the lock Shalom counted-
One.
Anything could go wrong
Two.
Will we even find anything?
Three.
Fuck it. It's too late now.
A resounding click spread down the hallway as the door swung open.
...
As soon as the words settled into the guests' minds that an uproar shook the room. A crowd surged towards Twyll and everyone was shouting and throwing questions and speculations around. There were also a few accusations of abandonment. Twyll felt the panic creep into the edges of her mind. She pushed it away, but she could still feel the fingers stroking, probing; searching for a way in. Trystan's hands wrapped around hers. They were reassuring in a way she didn't expect them to be. It felt like when you are standing at the edge of a cliff and all sorts of thoughts flood your brain.
How far is the ground from up here? Will I die on impact? Or will it be slow and painful? Will, I even die, or will I just be injured with months of painful recovery? Will everyone look at me differently? Will they be scared of what I would do next?
And then you look beyond that fall to the ground and the world beyond. The hope returns and calm settles over you knowing that you cannot leave this world without completely experiencing it. Trystan was like that assurance. That everything would be better. That he would always be there, like the world that she has yet to experience and he is proof that the fall is not worth the world beyond.
A loud question brought her out of her mind.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I said, what powers do you possess? Can you make diamonds and sapphires out of thin air?" A screeching voice called out.
"Yes, and she can also make donkeys fly!" Trystan shot back.
A girl at the front widened her eyes, "Can you?"
Twyll suppressed an eye roll and was tempted to pinch Trystan when she felt him snickering beside her.
"I'm sorry. I cannot make diamonds and Sapphires out of thin air or make donkeys or pigs or cows or any other animals- wild or domestic- fly. That is ridiculous."
The girl flushed with embarrassment.
People were staring at her as if she were a caged animal. The nobility of different ranks with impossible names came up to her and talked about nothing. They gave her the impression of long-forgotten showpieces. Frivolous and without any thought. All she could say were things like 'That is fascinating' and 'I don't know'. It was obvious that they didn't find those answers very amusing or satisfactory. They stared and whispered. Breaking apart every aspect of her. Her hair, her body, her clothes. She wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and escape them; but she couldn't. Men and women came and went. The din rose to chaos. Guards swarmed the room and Trystan was suddenly wrapping an arm around her and dragging her out of sight. She saw Karsyn and Kyan fighting. Cadence was nowhere to be seen. Something was wrong. Very wrong and she had no idea what it was. Her fingers scrabbled against the seams in her bodice, searching for her Bavmeč, her knives; Anything.
"Calm Twyll. Calm." Trystan whispered in her ears.
Her vision was turning hazy and her head was whirling. She struggled free of Trystan's hold and snagged her fingers on the blades of her Bavmeč. The cloth unfurled and twirled up in the air like a live snake. It shot out and wrapped around a guard's hand and the blade lodged into an eye. Blood poured out and the blade rolled in with the gold embroidered cloth. Her belt came of. The metal beams folded into each other to make a Staff with razor-sharp ends. Twyll twisted the staff until it was a blur and released it into the air. She carried it across air currents, her hands were a blur, her body moving in fluid movements. The tiny crystals in her hair glowed as well as the inlaid stones in her knives. They were all wielding crystals brimming with clean energy. Screams rang throughout the hall. People were running out until only the guards, The Dictator and The Chadwicks remained.
Karsyn's eyes were glowing pink and her hair was a carnation cloud behind her as she rose into the air. The guards around her fell to the ground. Their eyes, ears and noses were bleeding. Karsyn's face was twisted with rage and agony. A mixture of pain and triumph. Her eyes were pouring with bloody tears while her lips moved in silent prayer. The skin around her eyes and mouth were laced with black veins that stood out in stark relief against her pale skin. The veins in her neck darkened along with the edges of her hairline. The fallen guards twitched and convulsed, their eyes rolled back until all you could see were the bloody whites of them. Karsyn's body stayed levitated, her face going slack and hollow.
She is going to die.
Twyll didn't know how or why she knew this but there was an innate knowledge that Karsyn would die. Her Bavmeč twisted out like coils of rope and wrapped themselves around Karsyn, slowly bringing her down and tying her up so that she couldn't do anymore. Kyan was already running to her, his legs leaving trails of blood and green powder behind. Trystan was engaged in his own fight, The Dictator was nowhere to be seen and neither were Shalom and Bren.
Gods. When did everything go to shit?