A Crimson Shore FAR REALM: 12.5 The Path of Light

Seek flame upon the path to fight

The enemies within the light.

“Well, it’s a nice family re-union we got here!” yelled Areia. “But perhaps you’d mind giving us an update on the freaky glowing portal behind me.” She jerked a thumb backwards. “Because I’m now afraid of my own shadow and I just watched the archaeologist over there have a battle of crying with her evil twin. I mean you want to tell us what in the Kasillian stronghold is going on here? We said we’d open this place up for the Governor, not stick around to shop for furniture!”

Abraxas, Ulua at his feet sobbing, looked at the rogue, “I see I’ve not properly assessed you as well, Mistress Areia. Much have you grown since last we met.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she sighed. Glancing at Thrak she asked in a feigned whisper, “Is this guy always so serious?” Thrak’s tongue lolled out of his snout.

Abraxas looked at the others, sternly, oblivious to Areia’s teasing. “You’ve done what you’ve needed to do. You’ve cleansed yourself in the chamber of Heroes. That which I’ve been tasked to seek again, tasked to protect until your arrival.”

“You’ve waited for us?” asked Zy’an. “But how would anyone know we’d come?”

Abraxas though ignored the question.  “I have waited, myself and one other.” He paused letting his words reverberate around the chamber. “The Chamber of Heroes cleanses your darker side.  If the darker side wins out, then the chamber will not open. It is the key to opening the Path. You, my goodly adventurers, are the key to the path of light.”

“So we are now half of what we were!” asked Thrak, and this time his voice carried the hint of a growl. “And now, who are we? Some key? To some path?” His words were bold. He looked different. More certain. Unafraid.

“We,” began Abraxas, “have always been half of both the light and the darkness. We all have both within us.  But fear not, noble Thrak. We will always be that in full, what we choose to do.”

“And what shall we choose?” asked Zy’an. He looked to each of them, but also to Abraxas.  He too had changed. His silver hair shimmered in the light of the lanthorn. His eyes sparkled, gemlike.

“That, noble ones, is for you to decide.”

 

 

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