The Crystal Halls
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_Beyond a door of solid topaz, there lies a room of metaphor personified. Upon a field of crystal, numerous dragon chess sets stand opposed to each other. Some look as though they've been playing a game for a while, others haven't even moved at all. In response to some unknown stimuli, one of those dormant sets has made two moves. A pawn and bishop have taken the field. Elsewhere, in another set, a king stirs.
And deep down his blood, in deepest part of his heritage, that fiendish blood long locked away, Sirion feels the call to play the game. He reveals in the thrill…and is terrified.
Elsewhere, in a cold hall of horrid stone, a great and terrible woman watches the image play out in the light of a cold flame. Drawn by the link in their blood and aided by the powers of the Nine Hells at her command, she and she alone bears so witness to the game playing out in his mind. She does not know what has stirred her descendent so, her grandson so many times over, but she intends to find out.
"Such promise. Such power and ambition. We shall have to see if he has the discipline to maintain it. Still...I've not seen this since the first of his line." She casts her gaze over to an imp, kneeling fearfully at her feet.
"You've done well to follow him, even after your pact was broken and restraints placed upon you. I commend you, Zathurzut."_
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_The Topaz King has lost his Queen. His Knights, his Bishops, and even his Rooks. He moves back, pressed, but no one seems to realize he still has pawns in play.
"Why do you bring me this news, Romulus? Where Norwick and Fendon are concerned, I will not be. I hate the creature so, but there is little I can do on my own, and what remains of Norwick is as cruel a mockery as one of his creations. Opportunists without guile and without principle. The Shesae have all but vanished, and my people are few and and far between in this land. He kills three hundred and I am blamed for it? No one will trust me, and so I will ask for no trust."
"I hate the creature, this is true. And if he survives I will see his bones ground to dust. I have already given Norwick all that it needs and more than it deserves. Seek me when the battle done…if you live long enough."
The erinyes bathes in the light of the cold flame, but wears a mask of consternation.
"What are you playing at, grandchild? Corners of you mind are closed to me...you should not be able to do that."
Sirion turns...to face the invisible scrying artifice. A coincidence, surely, she thought. Even with his talent, the elf should not be able to see the spell. And yet now she gazed into those golden eyes that so reminded her of the ambitious Aion Goldthane she'd loved so long ago, before the races of Men walked Toril. And there was no mistaking the recognition in those eyes.
"Hmm. He's more dangerous than I thought. Too bad for him it only enflames my desire. Zathurzut, I think it's time for a family reunion."_
"Uh, Sirion, are you okay? You kind of stopped talking…and blinking..."
The gold haired elf shook his head..."I'm fine, I just...it's nothing." But he knew it wasn't nothing. He couldn't tell who or what, but he was certain he felt a divination prying in on him. That alone wasn't unusual...he'd come to expect it these days. But this one felt different. Different in a way that was not easily described. Cold and sharp and intimate and wrong and...familiar? He'd been in the presence of many powers. And he'd offended many of them. None had a presence like this.
And the thought that disturbed him most of all was that he felt this urge to invite it. To embrace that terrible chill, and to lie before it and reveal in it.
Slowly he became aware of how much that thought disturbed him...of how afraid he was of it.
"I have other matters to attend to. Look to the Alchemist for aid, if you hope to survive."
