"So, anyway, there I was, locked in place by those dastardly lights, you know, the ones that sapped my Kingly powers," Razhik continued dramatically, "Hordes of those walking dead lay dead, well, dead again, at my feet, but I was no closer to ending the real threat. Suddenly, it occurred to me: I didn't have to do everything by myself; A King is only as valuable as those he commands, after all. But wouldn't you know it, I just couldn't manage to get the summoning to work. It was at that moment when I knew, from deeply rooted intuition and inherent awesomeness, that something bad was coming. Chains erupted from all directions, chasing me like lowly serpents. I evaded nearly a hundred before one snagged my back leg.

"That was when," he said with a grin, "I felt something from the scant few shadows in the chamber. My loyal subjects could feel my peril and were coming to my aid in my moment of need. The outcome from there, as I'm sure you both can guess, was all but determined. Still, the Shadow Guard should be commended for their valiant efforts."

Razhik had regaled the group with tales of his exploits in the chamber as they made their way back to the crossroads. The Grokar, whom he had yet to dismiss, nodded vigorously through the entire telling, as if to assure his companions of the veracity of his claims. He hadn't explained why he decided not to return them to his shadowed realm, when he'd kept them tucked away for most of their time in the keep, but neither of Razhik's companions was going to touch that obvious change in behavior.

"Right…" Orion said in the silence that hung after Razhik's lackluster, dramatic finish.

All in all, the tale hadn't taken long to tell. Gods, the blue pathway wasn't a far stretch, by any measure, and they hadn't even reached the halfway point.

Not wanting to take away from Razhik's elation, Orion just let him have the win. Sometimes a question just wasn't worth the trouble an answer might bring.

"So, uh," Anilith chimed in, "Any reason you haven't dispelled your armor? It's nice and all, but a bit eerie, being stalked by six shadow beasts. Not so great for the nerves, catching you all in my peripherals constantly."

Razhik snorted. "Look at little Ani, getting spooked so easy. I just like the way it feels on my scales, that's all. Keeps me cool in this heat."

"I thought your collar did a pretty good job of that, and I never said I was scared," Anilith shot back. "I just don't exactly enjoy how your armor affects me. It's easy enough to ignore in battle, but, by the gods, it tickles some deep part of my mind, and it doesn't exactly bring out the warm and fuzzies. This is supposed to be our downtime, or as close to it as we have here."

"Well," Razhik said slowly, ignoring her mention of his collar, "in that case, I'll be sure not to move too quickly or anything. But I'm not taking it off. Not because I'm scared or anything," he added far too quickly, "I just want to be ready, that's all. Never know what this place might throw at us next," he finished with a sagely furrowed brow, as his chin bobbed up and down.

"Right…" Anilith replied.

Silence fell on the group like a shroud, and they continued on to the crossroads. Some things never changed.

"Well," Anilith said after the group took a rest in the central chamber, "I guess it's time we start the trek down this thrice-cursed forever hall. Again."

None of them were looking forward to the needlessly long walk, and the break had been as much in order to postpone the inevitable as to give the group a chance to truly rest. Somehow knowing how long it was going to take to get back to the purple antechamber made the anticipation of the sojourn worse.

"Yeah," Orion replied as he fiddled with the flute he'd claimed, "I s'pose it is. Somethin' feels odd here, but I can't quite place it, best be gettin' on with it. Finish this thing, once and for all. Spent more than enough time here already."

"You always have an odd feeling," Anilith chuckled, "And it's really only been a few days."

"Before you came along," the old man fired back, "I could go a decade without an 'odd feelin'.' Now, I'm lucky to make it a handful of hours without somethin' feelin' off, thank you very much."

"Oh, come on," Anilith said with a wounded tone, "You're telling me that Razhik never gets you into bad situations? Getting into weird trouble is basically his calling in life!"

"Like I said," Orion said simply, "I could go years without havin' an odd feelin'. You really think I spend this much time with him usually?"

"I'm right here," Razhik interjected indignantly.

Orion sucked in air through his teeth. "I guess you are, at that. Don't know how I missed you, still cloaked in shadow as you are. Musta been my mistake," he finished with a shrug.

"One day, you'll wish you'd been nicer to me," Razhik said in a huff before sinking into the shadows of his guards, lurking just out of sight.

"Wow," Anilith said, stretching excessively in the sudden abundance of space, "Is it just me, or does it suddenly seem a lot more spacious in here? Is that a carpet on the ground? Four of them?! I don't know how I missed those!"

Orion slowly pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his knees. "Well, best be gettin' on with it. We're burnin' daylight here."

"We don't even know if it's daytime!" A warbled voice said from the shadows.

"You say something, Ani?" Orion asked.

"Nah, you must be hearing things," she replied.

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"Ah, I s'pose I am at that," the old man said with a grin. "Still, best be gettin' back to it. Spent more'n enough time here already."

"You guys are the worst," a distorted voice sounded from Grodo's shadow as the group made their way back down the final hallway, five Grokar hopping in the rear, their shadows long and sinuous.

At long last, the group put the purple hallway behind them for the second time. The Elderscript etched into its stone walls was far more apparent when they walked the path this time, now that they knew what to look for. It was humbling to realize marks they'd mistaken for scratches left by the passage of gods knew how many ages were all that remained of the runes in places. Anilith had been the one who noticed, pointing out the ghost of the flowing script in sections they once thought clear.

While this might have put them at ease, as there was a not insignificant lack of evidence for any volatile reactions, it begged the question of whether the script had faded, or been hidden. On the one hand, it might mean that Razhik's prior warning held little merit, which would be a comfort. Indeed, they no longer shied away from the walls so vigorously, becoming accustomed to the mysterious place, but walked as if in the home of a respected friend. On the other hand, it might mean that the script was more present than they had thought in this place, and that raised even more questions about this sequestered keep.

Some things, however, were better not to dwell on, for some answers bring more questions than peace.

The antechamber preceding the large gate remained, by and large, unchanged. The only difference they noticed was an intangible alteration of the air. It would hardly have seemed a change, but for the weight of it, as if the barriers had been holding back a presence, and the group's efforts had left them weakened, allowing a pressure to seep through.

"Not sure I like what that says about what we're up against here," Orion muttered audibly as the pressure washed over him. "Just bein' this close makes me second-guess our course."

"You thinking of turning back, old man?" Anilith ribbed, "After all this time?"

"What," he replied, "And let a young whippersnapper like yourself hold that over me for the rest of my life? Never. I'm just sayin' whatever's through that gate is far and away beyond anythin' we seen to date."

"Well, of course it is," Anilith said simply, "It wouldn't make any sense for the easiest part to come last."

Razhik and the Grokar finally all stepped properly into the chamber, joining Anilith and Orion. The three densely scripted sections around the gate set into the far wall seemed to react to their presence, and each began to emit a soft glow. The ornate torches and filigree that decorated the chamber seemed to glitter in the dancing light.

"Finally, as Kingly a welcome as I deserve," Razhik said smugly.

"Yeah, I don't think that's what's goin' on here, buddy," Orion said, quickly shutting him down.

A current in the air seemed to beckon each of them forward, inviting them further into the room. Orion could practically see the connection each of them had with one of the sigils, the same connection he'd noticed faintly on their last visit, and it didn't take much thought for him to summon his flute. The link snapped into place, nearly wrenching the instrument from his grip as it began to glow in synch with the sigil to the right of the gate, yet he held firm.

"Seems our new toys have a part to play in all this yet," he said with a bitter edge. "Shame, I was hopin' to hold on to this a bit longer."

Anilith summoned Pip's staff, the gem at its crown glowing in turn, adding depth to the pressure building in the room. One of the Grokar, Grodo, Anilith believed, whom Razhik had entrusted with the storage ring he'd claimed, summoned the strange tool that completed the set.

The moment it appeared, all three items were pulled undeniably from their grips, rocketing towards the three sigils until they stopped dead, hovering in place before the ancient runes. The glow from each of the gems intensified, fed by whatever power slumbered in those walls, until three beams of light struck the ground at the center of the room. There, a pedestal appeared with a flash, as if it had been just out of sight the whole time. Beside it lay a chest, plain and unassuming.

"That stand looks oddly familiar," Orion stated, reminded of a moment some days past, "Well, get to it, Ani. Somethin' tells me you'll have the best chance of figurin' it out, if recent experience is anythin' to go off of."

"Sure," she said, shaking her head, "Just offer me up like a sacrificial lowback, why don't ya."

She made for the pedestal without any real complaint, though. Orion had been right; Stepping up to the podium did feel oddly familiar. Lines of strange words, words she instinctually knew her friends wouldn't make heads or tails of, awaited her. Reading through their message, she began, not for the first time, to question the logic behind this whole place. Something about the design felt off, or maybe they'd just done it all wrong.

"Lucky I can read this nonsense," she said. "Honestly, I'm not sure how anyone would figure out what to do here without being able to read this."

"Well, what does it say?" Orion asked, the veneer of his patience peeling.

"What, you can't read it? It says…" she began to say before something changed.

As she spoke, she touched the stone, and more writing began to etch itself into the podium, as if under the guidance of some unseen hand, beneath the foreign words; a translation she knew at least Orion would understand.

"It says," she repeated, "Step up and see for yourself."

Orion wasted no time walking forward as she stepped aside. She watched him mouth the words she'd read only moments before.

The Staff of Consuming Flame. The Scalpel of the Animator. The Flute of Symphonic Illusion. Three Artifacts, bound to this place, return to the seat of their Power, unsealing the way.

A choice awaits you, who bear the Bands of Focus: to continue on and discover what awaits, or face one final test to claim their power as your own.

Choose, Challengers. Seize Fate.

Orion stood there for a few moments, silent. When he found his voice, he asked, "So, uh, what's this final test?"

No sooner had the words escaped him than a deep rumbling came from all around, as if the floors and walls themselves were rousing themselves from timeless sleep. The room began to shift, stones moving underfoot, dust falling from places that had lain undisturbed for Ages.

When the dust settled, the metamorphosis was obvious. Where once, there had been four walls, now, there were six. The sigils had moved in the chaos, now adorning three separate walls. Each glowed the color of a fallen champion, each wall's hue bleeding onto the floor before it, but three walls stood dark. The far wall, where the gate loomed, somehow larger still, was a violet so dark it seemed black. To the right, a red wall stood, while blue lay on the left. The wall at their backs stood yellow and bright, flanked by dark orange and green. A great, unlit brazier stood before each. No color laid claim to the room's center, where the pedestal stood alone, no chest in sight.

Looking around, Anilith spoke her thoughts aloud. "So, it seems you made a choice there, Ori."

"Hardly, I asked a question! This damned place is too dramatic," he grumbled in turn.

"Seems like that's all it took for that writing to be translated, too," Anilith agreed.

"So, what're we supposed to do now?" Razhik asked, clearly bewildered by the sudden change.

"Well," Anilith said, still looking around, "Seems to me the paths we cleared are lit, and this must still be the purple one; Note the color of the way forward. But behind us, two new colors appeared. I think it means—"

"—You've got to be kiddin' me," Orion interjected.

"I think it means," Anilith continued, "We have to go back one more time, if we want our reward anyway."

"What are we waiting for then? Let's go!" Razhik cried exuberantly, glad to have direction again.

Anilith, Razhik, and the Grokar set off once more down the long purple path, and Orion hung his head as he brought up the rear.

"You have got to be kiddin' me," he said once more as he left the chamber for a second time.

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