Xy-Roks' Repose II: Meditation
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Many moons had passed since the alliance between master and apprentice was rekindled in shadow. Yet Xy-Roks, ever methodical, had only now begun to reveal the full breadth of his plan to Zephyr.
Within the sanctum of The Fort, under the flickering gloom of arcane lanterns, the dark mage summoned his apprentice and unveiled the Cube of Kaladara once more. Holding it aloft, he began to recount all that had occurred during Zephyr’s absence—the forbidden truths he had uncovered, the web of lies spun to deceive King Azura, and the haunting encounter with the veiled figure in the crypt whose presence still lingered in his thoughts.
Zephyr listened, silent and observant. Though loyal to his master, his mind wandered. Would King Azura retaliate if he discovered the truth? Could a warning be sent to other kings, or was it already too late? Despite these thoughts, Zephyr sensed no concern from Xy-Roks. The dark mage pressed on, unfolding each layer of his plan with unwavering confidence. His words carried power, and Zephyr could feel it—the deep allure of the Cube, the mysterious force it radiated, and the promise it held in their grasp.
As the tale wove deeper, fascination eclipsed fear. Zephyr’s curiosity was drawn not only to the Cube’s origin but to its untapped potential. His master spoke of it as a key to reshape reality itself—a tool that, in the right hands, could become more than magic. It could become dominion.
Then, in one fluid motion, Xy-Roks placed one hand firmly upon Zephyr’s shoulder, the Cube glowing faintly in the other.
With no time to speak, they vanished.
They spiraled through the void—stars, silence, and shadows melding into a tunnel of infinite light and emptiness. Space folded around them like parchment, and time twisted in loops as they fell through the Astral Interstice. It was a place beyond planes, where perception bent and even thought moved sluggishly.
Eventually, the current of time released them. They emerged in a burst of energy, cast across the continent to the frozen frontier of Crystalis Dominion, deep within the glimmering wilderness known as the Glittering Glades.
Snow and ice greeted them, wind cutting through their cloaks like blades. But the cold did not deter them.
They pressed onward, climbing into the mighty ridges of Orin’s Chains, a mountain range veiled in legend. For hours, they traveled in silence, until at last they stood before a stone archway half-buried in the frost. It was the entrance Xy-Roks had seen in visions—hidden, ancient, and untouched by time.
The chamber beyond was vast and dim, filled with echoes and the whispers of forgotten magic. Here, in the heart of the mountain, Xy-Roks searched for a stone known only through the writings of a lost Lumindor manuscript. According to those arcane texts, a group of Lumindor scholars had once discovered rare stones within Orin’s Chains—stones with innate magical resonance. From them, they had crafted great monoliths, linking them through space with spells so strong they could communicate across unimaginable distances.
As the pair moved deeper into the cavern, a sudden stillness took them both.
A pulse.
They stopped.
Beneath their feet, a surge of unfamiliar energy radiated from the bedrock. The surrounding stone bore a similar texture, but this... this pulse was different. Alive. Ancient.
With a snarl of focus, Xy-Roks unleashed a carving spell, ripping into the stone with unrelenting force. The mountain trembled. Chunks of debris scattered in every direction as the spell tore loose a massive shard of the glowing mineral.
“Hold it,” Xy-Roks commanded.
Zephyr obeyed, bracing the heavy stone. With a single breath and a powerful focus of will, Xy-Roks activated the Cube.
Light consumed them once more.
They reappeared in The Fort, and the carved stone lay at their feet. Zephyr gasped for air, his mind struggling to comprehend the journey—the astral plane, the Cube’s sheer power, the raw intent of his master.
But there was no rest.
Even before the haze cleared from Zephyr’s eyes, Xy-Roks was already preparing the stone, inscribing runes and binding enchantments with swift, practiced movements. Within hours, a towering monolith had been shaped from the material, surrounded by several smaller stones of identical design.
The purpose was clear.
The largest monolith would serve Xy-Roks, a conduit for communication, meditation, and power. The smaller ones would be distributed to chosen agents scattered across Eldoria, forming a silent network—a whisper-chain that could span kingdoms.
Nights passed.
Under moonlight and shadow, Zephyr made his preparations. With his spectral beast by his side and a small unit of Xy-Roks’ most loyal warriors, he set out. Their path would take them across the Enigma Wood, toward distant lands in another realm. The next phase of the master’s plan had begun.
Zephyr’s journey would be long.
But so too would be the quiet repose of Xy-Roks.
Within his private chamber, surrounded by relics of the old age, the dark wizard entered a new chapter of discipline. He had realized, during his astral travels, that the Cube’s energy could be drawn upon—but only with extraordinary focus. Like a storm waiting to be summoned, its power was there, ready—but dangerous if not controlled.
The next stage of his plan demanded focus and discipline. He would once again enter the meditative state he had cultivated in months prior—honing his link to the Cube of Kaladara.
Drawing upon ancient Lumindor teachings from his time as a scholar, Xy-Roks practiced an intense form of arcane meditation. In this sleepless trance, he ascended beyond mere consciousness, focusing his essence into singular threads of energy. Connected to his newly-forged monolith, he meditated deeply, shaping his will like a blade.
Time lost its meaning. Within the void of his mind, Xy-Roks discovered pathways—threads of possibility tied to the Cube’s potential. If the stranger in the crypt had spoken truth, he had only begun to glimpse the real power of the artifact. If he could master the flow of space and time itself, he could observe the world without being seen, and manipulate fate without leaving a trace.
The world slept, blissfully unaware of the storm preparing to rise once more.
And in the silence of his hall, the dark mage waited... and willed.
10-05-24 - 3 Jam Improv Eric Harmonica
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