Part Six

It rose from the soft earth like a monolith, a great door-less entryway that appeared to be older than those who looked upon it this very moment. Peculiar plant life in the forms of ivy and vines snaked up either side of the archway, crafted of ancient ebony colored stone, the mortar a conglomeration of bones and bleached skulls. It towered above them in silent protest, the foreboding shadow it had cast upon the wall behind it seemingly beholding a life of it’s own.

The two cowled figures stood in hushed awe at the device. The trek to reach this final destination had seemed to take months, the path from the surface a winding honeycomb of subterranean caves and passageways that slowly descended to the bowels of Eden herself. Through the darkness they had traveled, daring not to illuminate their surroundings out of fear of stirring unfathomable ancient creatures that no doubt inhabited the caverns.

Only now did they dare partake in the simple pleasure of illumination, having finally reaching their destination. Yet despite their immense power, the two Resolvists had no doubt subconsciously questioned themselves upon shedding light upon the monstrosity before them.

“Some believe it to be the design of the Arbiters themselves, others the work of the ancient Illblooded. We’ve no knowledge to confirm not dispel either belief.”

The cowled figure spoke with an unusual low volume, as if frightened that he may incur the wrath of the device.

“Whatever the case, it was the Second who had first unlocked it’s secrets. Quite ironic that he be imprisoned by the very device he had helped to pioneer the use of, is it not?”

The other Resolvist remained silent, undoubtedly afraid of construction before him. For another long moment, they had both stood there in silence, contemplating the implications of their intended actions. After a long moment, the two had approached the gateway in tandem, eyes never straying from it.

“Is it truly wise to test out luck, brother? For if this is truly the work of the Arbiters, would they no doubt strike us down for toying with their creation?”

His partner nodded slowly, but continued none the less.

“We’ve little choice in the matter, brother. The Decusians grow stronger by the day. Even on the brink of civil war, they garner the resolve to resist the will of the Thirteen. Summoning the Second…it is only logical thing to do if we ever hope to appease the Thrones.”

The two approached the mouth of the device, casting their torch light upon an ancient stone slate that sat atop a crumbling pillar. Upon the slate had been numerous odd sigils, unfamiliar to even they, masters of Daersermos and the languages of Hell.

“The power of the doorway is accessed by this device. These sigils, here…they are used to craft an address, not unlike the Decusians do when mailing their missives and letters. Upon scribing these sigils upon the slate with one’s own blood, the doorway shall be opened. Such is what the Second had discovered; the ability to transverse time and space between doorways, instantly crossing entire nations in mere seconds. You can now see where he had amassed most of his power from.”

The Resolvist motioned to the cold stone slate.

“This particular doorway is engineered to only go one place, however, unlike the others we have found.”

“The Claustrum, brother?”

“Indeed. Home of our forsaken brother.”

One of cowed figures reached into the folds of his robe, removing a dagger from within. Pricking his finger lightly, he brings it to the slate, penning a series of forsaken symbols upon it. As the last sigil is scribed, the air around the doorway grows cold, and a low reverberation is felt beneath the two’s feet and spreading into their stomachs. The empty archway explodes with activity, a shimmering substance filling the once empty space between the two arches. It bends and folds with impossible physics, illuminating the chamber with unnatural light.

For a brief moment, the two Resolvists look upon the “doorway” with awe. In tandem, they walk towards the shimmer, until their figures dissolve and they are no more. Almost immediately thereafter, the doorway dissipates, once again leaving the ancient chamber in darkness.

Somewhere, a sleeping horror wakes, his prison illuminated brightly with an unnatural light.

He can not help but grin with delight.