“I couldn’t find him,” Jazai admitted. “He’s probably deeper in, which means there is still one illusion left.”
“Well then, get to him,” the Templar ordered. “What? Did you need permission?”
The diviner shook his head. “No, but I wanted to bring us together before I set off. Besides, if he is farther in, we’ll need to get Farah closer.”
“Fair enough,” he conceded. “How far in do you think he is?”
“I don’t know but probably fairly deep.” Jazai rolled his shoulders. “So while I search for him, I need you to do something.”
Wulfsun nodded. “Aye, what do you need?”
Jazai held his arms up and his expression revealed that he was not amused by this request. “I need you to carry me.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Devol placed one hand in the pocket of his pants and stared at the building. It had the appearance of a sanctuary or temple. It was large—three stories tall—and the roof and spires above seemed to have eroded considerably, which suggested that it had been abandoned for years. Dark-blue lines pulsated along the walls and to the left of the entrance, statues of what appeared to be Samara and Finis, the Astrals of life and death, stood like silent sentinels.
“Hey, Devol!” The swordsman turned as what appeared to be a blue ghost approached him. He readied his blade but the spirit stopped suddenly and held its hands up. “Whoa—watch where you point that! A majestic can do damage to me in this form.”
“Jazai?” He frowned and lowered his blade slightly. “What happened to you?”
“This is a cantrip. I’m using it to cross the illusions,” the diviner explained and paused to look curiously at the structure. “What is that?”
“I don’t know. It looks like a temple that might have been here before this area was overtaken,” the swordsman reasoned. “I’d hoped we could all meet here.”
“It’s not a bad plan, especially since I think you ended up on the correct plane.” Jazai looked around and nodded. “This area isn’t as twisted as the others, which means the rest of us might be the ones still in the illusion.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.
Jazai hesitated for a moment, his gaze fixed speculatively on his friend’s sword. “Your majestic—try filling it with mana and releasing it behind me.”
Devol, while he had no idea what he tried to accomplish, obliged and began to fill Achroma with his mana. The light within the blade brightened. The diviner moved his projection hastily behind him as the swordsman leaned back and swiped the weapon forward. The glowing blade sliced through the trees but more importantly, it cut through the fog of darkness that surrounded them.
“What in the hells?” Wulfsun cried as he and the others in the group suddenly appeared in the distance when the fog dissipated.
“Wulfsun!” Devol shouted and waved at him to get his attention. “How did you know that would work?” he asked the projection.
“I didn’t,” Jazai admitted. “But it seemed miraculous that you were the only one to not be trapped in an illusion. I merely assumed that your majestic played a part in that.”
“Achroma, huh?” He looked at the sword with a mixture of pride and frustration. “I need to discover what it is capable of.”
“No kidding.” His friend floated away. “I’ll be right back. Wait here.”
The projection drifted to Wulfsun and floated onto his back. Jazai, now in his physical body, stretched his arms as the Templar dropped him casually. The two argued briefly, but Asla hurried to the young swordsman. “Devol, are you all right?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” he said with a smile. “I didn’t have a chance to get in any harm and haven’t come across anything other than these weird trees and this temple.”
“Samara and Finis?” Farah noted, her gaze fixed on the statues as she stopped behind Asla. “We don’t have any temples outside the city. By the design, this looks like a temple you would see in Britana.”
“There are two abyssal spots there,” Devol stated and returned his attention to the building, “If this magic ‘consumes’ things like Wulfsun said, perhaps it is swapping elements from each of the spots somehow?”
“That would explain where the trees came from,” the guard captain agreed and glanced over her shoulder. “And that rocky terrain we were in. I couldn’t see the color of the stone, but it looked like some of the ravines you might find in Soel.”
“It’s good to see you in one piece, Devol!” Wulfsun said as he and the diviner caught up. “Jazai said it was you who dispelled the illusion.”
“It was my majestic,” he said and held the blade up. “It was Jazai’s idea. I would never have thought to use it like that.”
“It’s probably best you start to,” his friend pointed out with a glance at the blade. “Honestly, it’s rather handy.”
“Do you think we should have a look at the temple?” Farah asked Wulfsun.
The Templar captain nodded. “It’s probably safer to do so and make sure nothing is hiding in there. But we have a fair distance to cover before we reach the center.”
The team of magi approached the structure cautiously. Asla’s ears twitched and Jazai’s eyes glowed. Both remained alert and scanned their surroundings to be sure nothing snuck up on them. The fact that nothing did seemed to make them more on edge.
“It’s too damn quiet,” Wulfsun muttered and Devol had to agree. They had been in the dome for about ten or fifteen minutes now and besides the illusions and the blast of abyssal magic they had walked through, nothing had occurred. The area itself seemed almost sterile, merely dirt beneath them and the temple in front of them, with no wind or noise around.
A crack was immediately followed by a snap and something darted around the Finis stature. Asla bared her teeth and Devol held his blade up, but Jazai simply pointed his index finger at the shadowy being that attempted to hide and fired a mana missile at it. It
