12-82. In Miniature
Etkatiran hovered in the center of the disc, surrounded by whirling silver rings that emitted pulses of dense ethera with every passing second. He looked much like every other djinn they’d seen, though with a couple of obvious differences. The first was that he was at least a dozen feet tall, and he looked even more imposing than that height implied. Largely, that was because of his oppressive aura, which suffused the very atmosphere with crackling energy.
Then there were the tentacles.
Instead of legs, he sported nine azure tendrils from which spouted even denser threads of ethera. Elijah didn’t need to look to understand that those conduits flowed to the discs surrounding the djinn demi-god.
When he glanced at those other discs, he saw that they were copies of what he and his companions had just left behind. Miniature versions of the altars they’d recently destroyed, complete with tiny versions of the environments that had surrounded each gate.
Though he had to admit that they were only tiny in comparison. Each was still a hundred yards across, and the creatures upon them were full-sized.
But as Elijah landed, he could scarcely tear his gaze from the djinn’s eyes. They blazed with blue ethera, but that wasn’t the most distressing part. Rather, Elijah saw awareness there. An intelligence far beyond his own. And hate.
“I smell the stench of the World Tree upon you, little dragon” came a voice from every direction. The djin’s thin mouth never moved. “Disgusting.”
The atmospheric ethera churned as the djinn’s focus settled fully onto Elijah. It shifted from him to the people on his back. “You have potential,” he said, but not to Elijah. His eyes didn’t move, but swirls of ethera danced around Hu Shui. “Space. Time. Battle. Your aura sings of conflict and magic.
“Demon. I have no quarrel with your kind. Leave us, and I will allow you to live.”
With that, he summoned a circular hole in the very fabric of reality. Unlike the gates Elijah had seen within the Primal Realm, the interior wasn’t covered by some opaque curtain of energy. Instead, it showed a scene they all recognized.
It was Benediction, and it was in flames. An ongoing riot that was more like a battle raged, with the mostly naked citizens attempting to kill one another. Most of them were covered in blood, though their tattoos were still somehow visible, even amongst the sea of red.
“Your world awaits. Go. Save your people.”
“No,” came Benedict’s reply as he dismounted.
“Why?” asked the djinn, obviously confused.
“You know why,” Hu Shui interjected, sliding off Elijah’s back. Vesimath did the same, his heavy boots clanking against the silver surface of the disc. “We have no choice but to defeat you.”
“Is that so?” the djinn asked. Then, he waved one of his hands, and the result surprised Elijah.
| You have been offered a choice. Submit to Etkatiran, and your companions may leave without a fight. The Primal Realm will be considered completed, and they will receive appropriate rewards. You will be sacrificed for the Great Work.
|