Chapter 244: Fracture XLIX
They were watchmen. Zinn and Sevran both. I recognized it in their stances, their expressions. The way their posture carried the essence of beleaguered sentries who'd suddenly stood at attention, alert faces and stoic brows masking lapses of boredom, moments before. What they guarded was obvious enough. It appeared to be a dimension gate, nearly identical to the artifact housed beneath the Infernal Enclave. The dwarven inscription and craftsmanship was missing, but the towering shape, and lightly thrumming membrane were immediately recognizable.
Why they were guarding it—and why guarding a gate in the middle of a barren wasteland would tempt them from their lives—was still impossible to say.
As I crested the hill, the wounded man in my arms groaning from a mix of pain and relief, they stood to their feet, shifting unsteadily, as if awakening limbs that had slumbered for quite some time.
From Sevran's lack of recognition, it became obvious he'd forgotten me. Zinn's demeanor was different - there was a knowing glint in his eye as he played along with the scenario the lithid had entrenched them in. "Do you wish to transcend?" Sevran extended a hand, palm up. He was adorned in regal armor that, while polished and resplendent, held an ancient quality, bronzed gold breastplate with a series of leather strips hanging from the bottom edge of the cuirass. I'd seen similar armor depicted in illustrations of books detailing ancient infernal spellswords, but in practice it was far more severe than the more fanciful interpretations.
The man's demeanor quieted, anxiety etched in his straining face. "Will it hurt?"
"No more than it already has. Hard part's over." Zinn stepped forward, a whirlwind of blue and turquoise mana actively weaving together in the palm of his hand.
The man looked between Zinn and Sevran, then nodded.
Zinn pressed the weaved spell against the man's breastplate, where it flattened and expanded outward, covering the wound in his head with glowing energy, spreading all the way down to his missing leg, recreating a glowing, ghostly replacement for the limb. He waited a moment, then made a noise of approval and stepped back, eyeing me. "Should be alright now. Set him down."
Carefully, I lowered the man's legs to the mud, supporting him from behind as he regained his balance, watching with wonder as he adjusted to the magical prosthetic.