A soft humming fills the air and permeates those that wait patiently under the rapidly darkening sky. The faint blue-white light of the last of Shakuras' stars slowly fades from sight and announces the coming of nightfall on this planet. Numerous shadows on the ground shift and elongate as the warmth of the distant star is quickly replaced with the cool glow from the twinkling blanket overhead. Without warning, the soft metallic hum increases in level as a sign of the vast amount of energy building within the massive structure that towers over those present. A thunderous roar erupts forth and washes over those gathered like an invisible passing wave. The winds howl and swirl about madly as it whips clothing off the forms gathered in a wild display. So sudden and intense was the blast that it causes several dozen small creatures nearby to take flight in surprise. Lights flash wildly from within the maelstrom of energy as the primary gateway to Aiur is activated once again.
Standing quietly among the warriors and technicians gathered for the passage, the scholar Chan'dras feels a stirring of anxiety and doubt growing within her as the thought of this upcoming mission weighs heavy on her soul. Her form shudders as a cold breeze flows past and she can almost imagine the sensation of several icy fingers caressing her flesh. The thought chills her enough that it causes her to glance about nervously.
A hand gently drops onto her shoulder as a calming and familiar voice speaks.
"Put your thoughts at ease, scholar. Our journey has not yet even begun and yet your nervousness is beginning to unsettle me."
"Forgive me, Al'shak," replies Chan'dras in a sheepish tone, "I tend to spend my days within the quiet shelter of the archives, not racing into the unknown."
"Are you having reservations about the coming mission?"
"Some," she ventures with a slight shrug, "but I have already committed myself to seeing this through to the end. Regardless of my feelings or uncertainties, we need the answers that hopefully this installation will provide us."
"Let us hope then that your wish becomes reality soon, scholar."
"As do I elder."
The massive portal begins to pulsate as the first of many warriors step through the shimmering wall of energy. A chaotic display of lights danced across the glowing portal like ripples in a pond as each form passes through to the Aiur. Time passes slowly as Chan'dras watches the procession of troops and supplies with slight interest as she waits for the remainder of their party to arrive. Glancing briefly to the rear of the massive gathering, she spots a familiar form followed by others unknown to her rapidly closing the distance. Realizing that the remainder of their party has finally arrived, she silently breathed a sigh of relief.
Small knots of warriors and technicians step aside respectfully as Gratix marches purposefully towards his friends. The rocky ground crunches beneath his soft footfalls as brief gusts of wind whirl his deep bluish-silver cloak and cause it to wrap protectively about its owner like some strange inanimate creature brought to life. The escorting warriors follow silently in his steps and despite their quiet, almost meditative demeanor; there is no mistaking the air of deadliness and competence that their silence cannot hide.
"He has chosen our escorts well," quietly comments Al'shak as he continues to examine the approaching procession. As they draw near he spots the caste markings of the reformed Sargas tribes, the assassin clan.
"En taro Tassadar my friends."
"And to you and your caste noble, Gratix," hesitantly replies Chan'dras as she eyes the new arrivals nervously.
"Have no fear, scholar," replies Gratix in a soft tone as he picks up on her anxiety, "they have pledged themselves to your protection and those of your party. You need not fear them."
"Are such measures truly necessary, Gratix?"
"Given the seriousness and the potential dangers that may await you at your destination, I believe the situation warrants their presence."
"I still feel uneasy with these arrangements my friend," replies Chan'dras with a hint of doubt. "We are simply going to investigate the base Zeratul spoke of. The possibility of engaging in any combat should be nonexistent. Would these warriors not be better put to use on Aiur?"
"Perhaps, but your mission is extremely vital and it is because of that reason that they must be there to safeguard your efforts."
"He is only being cautious, Chan'dras," offers Al'shak. "If I were in his place I would do no less. Though we expect no trouble to be encountered, it does not harm your mission if you go prepared."
"Let us hope that they will not be needed then," says Chan'dras as she concedes the point.
Gratix nods briefly in thanks to Al'shak before continuing.
"I apologize for the delay my friends. It would appear that visiting Kreza took far longer than we had anticipated."
"How is he?"
"Still recovering and incoherent, scholar," answers Erkaza as he steps quietly next to Gratix. "He will recover eventually but as to when, even the healers do not know. In any case, we will continue the vigil in your absence."
"Thank you, elder. He and I have been friends for as long as I can remember and I feel reluctant to leave him when my familiar presence is needed most."
"Do not worry, no further harm will befall Kreza so long as the templar castes guard him."
"Speaking of the castes, Erkaza, I have need to speak with you in private," states Al'shak as he gestures for him to walk with him. "Although we do not have much time to speak, there is much that I must tell you. Much that you must be made aware of."
"Am I, the simple warrior, finally to be told as to what this secret mission they speak of is about," he asks as his eyes flash briefly with interest.
"That and more my old friend. Let us leave them to discuss their mission." With that final word, the two elders of the dark templar caste slowly move off until they are swallowed up by the surrounding darkness.
"They will not be long," informs Gratix as he glances briefly in the direction the two elders left. "The portal will only stay open for a little while longer. While we await their return, allow me to introduce the one who will lead your honor guard; Mertak, my protégée."
Chan'dras turns to her side as the soft crunching of gravel draws her attention to the cloaked form quietly approaching. As he draws near she steps back slightly in surprise as the sense of sheer power emanating from the dark warrior washes over. She feels the chilling energies flowing from the warrior, as cold as the depths of space itself, wrap around and embraces her form as an intense chill penetrates her robes to the core of her being. A slight breeze rushes past and the air only succeeds in increasing the sensation.
Clad in a cloak as dark as the void with tiny intricate weaves of silver inlaid within the smooth fabric, the warrior strikes an image of being wrapped in a blanket of space itself. He bows respectfully as another breeze whirls his cloak about him and for a moment it seems as if it were attempting to consume him within the black folds. Silver-blue eyes burn softly within the hood like the twin stars of Shakuras as their piercing gaze falls upon Chan'dras.
"En taro Adun, scholar," replies Mertak in a warm voice that is a sharp contrast to the image he projects. "I pledge my service and those of your honor guard to you."
"You have my thanks, Mertak. It is an honor to have you with us. I was not aware that those of the dark castes have joined the high order."
"He is the first of his people and my best student," states Gratix with pride.
"You honor me and my efforts far more than I deserve, Praetor."
"I am sure the praise is well earned, Mertak."
"Indeed it is, scholar. He has accomplished much during his short tenure with the order."
"Then I will not fail you in your decision to grant me the opportunity to protect this expedition," proudly states Mertak as his piercing eyes flare briefly. "Rest in the knowledge that no harm shall befall them as long as we live."
"I would expect no less than that from one of our caste," replies Gratix proudly as he places his hand on Mertak's shoulder.
Introductions are quickly made among the members of Mertak's honor guard detail. Turning an appraising eye on her escorts, she notices that the group of warriors is a mix of both dark and light templars. As Chan'dras greets each in turn she senses a powerful warrior spirit burning from within each; infusing her battered, old soul with hope. She feels the stirrings of idealism from days long past well up within her and she cannot help but feel confident that their struggle with the Zerg will never truly be lost so long as warriors such as these live and breathe.
A quiet whisper of a conversation catches her senses, gently carried like a leaf on a soft breeze, and she turns and closes her eyes slightly in an attempt to locate the source. A small snap followed by the sound of soft footfalls draws near enough for her to witness two dark shapes grow into familiar forms.
"They have finished," announces Gratix as he turns towards the voices and watches the two dark templar elders walk slowly into view. "It is time to leave, Chan'dras."
"Do you think he told Erkaza everything?"
"We shall know soon enough, scholar."
"We have completed our discussion," states Al'shak softly as both forms move from the shadows. He spares a quick glance towards Erkaza before turning back to the others.
"What do you think now, Erkaza?"
"I think I would have enjoyed it better if I had not been informed, Praetor Gratix," replies Erkaza dryly.
"The conclave has agreed to my request to have Erkaza represent our people in my absence. Now that he has been made fully aware of our current crisis, he will be in a better position to assist your efforts, Gratix."
"It will be needed," softly says Gratix as another gust of wind rustles his cloak briefly. Just beyond his vision, he sees the last of the reinforcements to Aiur slowly begin to cross through the portal and gestures for the others to take notice.
"The portal will close once the last of those troops pass through. If you intend to continue with this insane quest of yours, Chan'dras," and there is no mistaking the gallows humor in his tone, "then I must wish you a safe journey."
"Thank you, Gratix. Thank you for everything," replies Chan'dras softly and with a parting glance, turns to leave as her honor guard quickly shifts position around her.
"May Adun and Tassadar himself watch over her and you, Al'shak."
"May they both watch and shield us all against the coming darkness. Our foes are gathering quietly out there," and he gestures slightly towards the heavens, "if we do not prepare, I fear that when the time arrives, we will be unable to stop them when they come seeking to snuff out our existence from the cosmos like a burning ember."
"Then I pray that her mission and that of our forces on Aiur succeeds," offers Erkaza grimly, "for if we fail in those two endeavors there will be none of our people left to care about the outcome."
With a parting respectful bow, Al'shak turns and marches off to join the expedition. One by one, they pass through the swirling vortex leaving ripples in their wake, until they are finally gone from sight. A terse order is shouted by someone unknown and with a sharp snap-hiss; the massive energy portal fades from existence. The metallic humming drops in levels quickly until all that is left is an eerie silence that envelops those present like a thick, dark blanket. The winds grow calm in the aftermath as the few remaining technicians deactivate the power while small groups of warriors move about to begin securing the site.
"Do you think they will succeed in their quest?"
"All I know is that they must," solemnly replies Gratix as he watches a breeze twirl some dead leaves into a whirlwind before him. With one final glance at the gateway, he decides it is time to leave.
"In the meantime," Gratix adds as he gestures for Erkaza to accompany him, "we have more pressing matters to attend to here."
"Let us hope that our future deeds here on Shakuras contribute to their successes," adds Erkaza as the two warriors slowly walk off into the night.
***
Location: Central Province on Shakuras, Primary Healing Halls
Walking slowly towards the large crystalline building, the small procession winds its way down the gleaming pathway. Their footsteps are muffled beneath their long cloaks as the vacant pathways nearby amplify the soft sound of gravel crunching from their progress. Those of the templar caste that remain on watch along the path to the hall bow respectfully as they recognize the leader of the small procession. Warriors stationed at the entrance to the structure, ever on the lookout for danger, cautiously move to block their path despite the obvious identity of the head of the small party. A soft hiss is heard as a high templar, flanked by yet more warriors, appears from behind the twin crystalline doors and bows respectfully before addressing the leader of the group.
"En taro Tassadar."
"And to you as well, templar."
"Is there something amiss," asks the high templar cautiously. "We were not expecting your arrival so soon. Has something occurred to warrant such a change?"
"Perhaps," replies the figure as he glances about carefully eyeing the positions of the guards, "given the recent information concerning Kreza, I felt that it would be prudent to increase the guard detail near him."
"Do you suspect an attempt to be made on him again," asks the high templar incredulously.
"Possibly," ventures the figure quietly, "with him so close to recovering, he poses a threat to those who are attempting to sow the seeds of chaos within our people. They may wish to finish their foul crime."
"Then let the cowards come forth and do battle with us," snarls the high templar as his eyes flash with challenge, "they will only find death at our hands."
"If they do come," states the figure as his eyes flash briefly, "then death is what they will find. Continue your duties templar. Once I have checked on Kreza's progress I will be leaving to attend to other matters within the city."
"It shall be as you have asked," humbly replies the templar as he bows respectfully and moves aside to allow the small group passage. The four figures quickly make their way deep into the structure, passing more guard checkpoints, as they press onward.
"Security within here is far greater than we had anticipated," softly comments one of the warriors, "this will not be an easy task."
"And it will be even more difficult if you do not learn to keep your voice down," viciously rasps the leader of the small group as they approach two guards on patrol.
"He is right," whisper another as they move beyond range of the templar guards.
"Gaining access was no challenge, these first-born are far too trusting. Leaving, however, will be an entirely different matter once they have been made aware of our intent."
"Leave that part to me," answers the leader of the group, "once you have disposed of the guards around him, I will leave and secure your escape route. You must complete your task quickly, any longer and we risk being exposed." The members of the group simply nod their heads in acknowledgment. Winding down several more passages, they finally reach the center of the installation. Walls of a frosted crystal line this part of the installation and inside the healing chamber. He spots the forms of several healers as they move about performing their duties within the frosted room and the sight draws a soft snort of annoyance from the leader as their presence will undoubtedly complicate their mission.
"Be sure that you completely dampen their psionic abilities. If they manage to summon others to their aid, our mission will end in failure," whispers the leader, as he surveys an approaching templar and one of the guards, a dark templar no less.
"We shall engage the psionic dampeners once we are in position as we had planned," softly replies one of the warriors as the guards close to within range.
"En taro Tassadar, noble templars."
"En taro Tassadar, Praetor. We are honored that you are here once more," replies the young high templar with a respectful bow. "What has prompted such a quick return," he asks as he eyes the new arrivals with interest.
"I believe another attempt may be made on Kreza's life. I have returned with more warriors to supplement his detail in the unlikely event they should penetrate into this chamber." With those words, several of the arrivals smoothly move off to position themselves next to their targets.
"They would be mad to attempt an attack with so many members of our caste around him."
"Indeed they would but it does not hurt to be cautious," states the leader as he glances about to check the position of his forces as he prepares himself for combat.
"You are correct in being prudent, Praetor." The brow of the young high templar furrows slightly in confusion as he begins to take notice of the strange behavior of the new arrivals. Instead of repositioning themselves into a more defensive posture, they appear instead to be encircling his detail. A small warning begins to build in the back of his mind but due to the identity of the figure standing before him, he is slow to realize the danger.
"However," ventures the young templar cautiously, "are these new arrivals truly necessary? The current detail should be more than sufficient to deal with any threat that could make it past our forces outside."
"They are here simply as an additional precaution, templar. Nothing more. You need not concern yourself with them any longer."
"I do not understand, Praetor. Am I to be removed from this posting? Is there something-"
The young templar never gets to finish the rest of his question. The two arrivals standing next to the Praetor part their cloaks in a blur of movement as they raise their arms almost in unison. Glowing shafts of charged energy are seen on the forearm launchers of the two warriors before they are let loose on their unprepared targets. The dark templar flanking him manages to activate his energy blade but is stuck viciously by several blasts directed at his face and dies instantly. To his credit, the young templar almost manages to launch a psionic blast from his outstretched hand before he feels the intense burning pain of the energy weapon riddle his body. The beams tear through his cloak, leaving small burns surrounding the holes as sharp pains lance through him and stab at his mind like hot needles. He tries to cry out; to alert the others to sound the alarm but surprisingly realizes he can sense no one beyond. Lying on his back in a pool of his own fluid, staring up into the soft lights above, the young templar helplessly watches as a shadow crosses into view and fires. As the darkness takes hold of him, he curses himself for failing due to a betrayal beyond anything he would have expected.
Moving with a cool, precise manner the new arrivals quickly go about eliminating the last of the guards. Most of them share the same fate as their companions; energy beams from nearby attackers are fired at point-blank range without warning and with deadly results. A few of the guards manage to put up a brief and violent fight but having been caught unaware and unprepared tipped the scales in favor of their assailants. Within seconds after the first shot is fired, the last of Kreza's guards falls dead.
"No more remain," states one of the attackers as he quietly hides the energy launcher back into the folds of his cloak and activates a psionic blade; the rest follow suit as blue-white blades flash into existence and hum softly in the now quiet corridor.
"Well done. I will go to secure our escape route. Be quick about it and make sure that none leave that room alive," the leader adds as he points towards the doors to the chamber.
"It shall be done as you command."
Inside the chamber, another event is about to take place that will be a greater surprise to all those present nearby.
"He is awakening."
"The danger period has past," comments one of the technicians as he surveys a panel. "You have succeeded, healer."
"Welcome back," softly whispers the lead healer as she traces a scaly hand across the massive scars left in the wake of his attackers.
"Where am I," weakly asks the old warrior as dark coal eyes slowly begin to focus and survey his surroundings. Eyes that once dangerously flickered like a dying fire slowly begin to clear and glow brightly under the soft, defused lighting within the chamber.
"Rest easy. You have been through quite a bit."
"Where am I," again the question is asked with a bit more strength to his soft words.
"You are safe," answers the healer as she places her hand upon the gnarly and weathered hand of the old warrior. "You are in the primary healing halls in the central province. Do you remember why you were placed in our care?"
The old eyes flash briefly in horror as an old memory clicks in his mind. His battered form attempts to rise from rest as he struggles against his still healing injuries; he barely clears the headrest before his strength leaves him and causes him to collapse from the exertion.
"There is danger among us," rasps the old warrior. "Others must be warned or all will be lost!"
"You must be calm, elder. Your injuries are no longer fatal but you must remain at rest. You are safe now. No harm will befall you. Several of your caste are outside this chamber as well as others within the halls."
"No," whispers Kreza as he weakly shakes his head in disagreement, "you don't understand. I must inform the others. They must know what I know before it is too late! They must know the truth-"
"In time they will but for now you must save your energy and rest, elder," she says softly as she sees a look of concern on one of the nearby technicians. "I will return to you in a moment, I will not be long."
"Must warn the others. They must know the danger," softly murmurs Kreza to himself.
"He is still weak from the shock to his system. It will be sometime before he is fully recovered."
"But he will recover," states the healer as she turns to address the technician. "What is it that you wish to tell me?"
"He has returned."
"Who?"
"The Praetor Gratix. He has brought additional guards to bolster the detail of the elder."
"As if we do not have enough here already," she asks as her eyes flash with interest. "Has something changed since he was last here?"
"I do not know? He is outside in the corridor now talking to the high templar that commands the elder's detail."
"Well I am sure he will be pleased to know that Kreza is no longer in any danger. Let us tell him the good news," she adds as she moves toward the twin crystalline doors.
Before she even manages to walk four steps, she sees the outer doors to the chamber part as three of the templar caste rush in; a look of cold fury is etched into their faces and their energy blades at the ready. She is about to ask what has happened, if they are under attack, until she witnesses in horror as they brutally cut down one of her technicians. The cry of the slaughtered technician fills the empty room as the three warriors butcher the form under their blades. Her eyes grow as wide as she can barely believe what she just witnessed. She tries to will her body to move but finds herself too much in shock from viewing the slaughter. Her mind cries out to act, to signal for help, but her body still refuses to obey her commands as if it were rooted in mud.
"This cannot be happening," she whispers in horror to herself as she watches the three templars finish their unimaginable deed.
"I cannot summon anyone beyond this room!" cries the tech beside her as terror begins to seep into his voice. "What do we do? We cannot possibly stand a chance against them! Where are the guards?!"
The gruesome scene is repeated once more as the last of the two techs in the outer chamber fall screaming before the warriors. Though they tried desperately to defend themselves, they were no match for warriors who have trained their entire lives for battle.
The three warriors silently survey the carnage they have just created as the last two healers nearby can only helplessly watch in horror. The soft hum of machinery and their energy blades is the only sound heard now as they methodically move throughout the outer area checking the room and the fresh corpses for any sign of life. One of them points to the door to the inner chamber and its three lone occupants and they slowly begin to finish their foul deed. The tech finally shakes off the effects of shock and acts as he hurriedly rushes to the door. With a series of commands entered into a nearby panel, the chamber doors seal and lock with a loud hiss.
"That will not hold them for long." As if to punctuate his words, the loud hiss of metal being scorched is heard as the warriors begin to cut through.
"I will try to delay them as best as I can," weakly replies the last tech as he considers his chances for survival and finds them nonexistent. "They have undoubtedly come for Kreza. You must try and get him to safety somehow!"
"How?! There is only one exit out of this chamber and they block the path. We cannot call others to our aid. I cannot sense anyone either and the communication equipment is situated in the outer area. We do not stand a chance against them!"
"They have come for me," whispers a tired voice behind them.
The healer looks to the source of the words and watches as the elder templar struggles to stand.
"I am sorry," she says softly as she and the last tech move to help him back into place as the sound outside the door begins to increase in level.
"There is nothing we can do to stop them."
"The guards?" Kreza asks with a look of small hope on his face.
"Dead for all we know," answers the tech sadly.
"Can you summon others to our aid?"
"No, we cannot. Our senses are unable to pick up anyone beyond these walls and they block the way to the communications panel."
"Then they have in fact returned to finish the deed they started so long ago," rasps Kreza as he slowly nods his head in understanding.
"If I am to die," declares Kreza, coughing slightly as he struggles to rise," then I will do so as I have lived, standing as a warrior in defense of our people."
"Then we will be honored to stand with you," replies the healer as she and the tech rise to face their fates as the door is on the verge of falling before the onslaught.
"Such noble sacrifices will not be necessary today," softly states a voice from behind the trio.
They whirl in surprise, fearing that one of the attackers has somehow managed to gain entry from behind them but what they see is far from what they expected. Dressed in a plain cloak of course, gray material, the figure of an elderly member of their race stands quietly before them in an almost contemplative manner. Despite the wizened appearance of their unexpected guest, an aurora of extreme power can be sensed emitted by his frail looking form. The trio stands quietly in awe as they wonder if their situation has gotten better or has taken a turn for the worse.
***
Outside the structure, the leader of the attackers returns a bow to a small group of passing templars on patrol. Looking back at the rapidly diminishing building in the distance, he wonders to himself how the progress of his forces is proceeding. If all went well, they should be following right behind him shortly. The path he chose for them should not be too difficult to find, they simply have to locate and follow the trail of dead templars marking their escape route. He smiles inwardly at how easy it was to accomplish this mission. So foolish and trustworthy these first-born are he thinks to himself with a gurgle of contempt. He wonders what will happen once the templars realize that their Praetor was linked to this insane act. He gurgles yet again in laughter and with one last glance at the halls, he swiftly turns down a pathway and fades into the darkness.
***
"Who are you?!" weakly demands Kreza as he eyes their new guest suspiciously. "You are as old as I am stranger, but I do not know you."
"How did you get in here?" asks the healer as she glances nervously towards the faltering door. "This room was empty before except for myself, my aide and Kreza."
"We do not have time for me to explain it at this moment," says the cloaked figure as he gestures towards the door, which has twisted enough to allow view of one of the attackers. Eyes burning with an almost insane fury lights up the face of one of their foes and the chilling image causes the healers to step back further.
"What do you want from us?"
"Only to let you know that I come as a friend and an ally and I ask that you trust me, Kreza. Read into my soul and you will know that I speak the truth."
Kreza listens to the soft words of the stranger and struggles to focus his thoughts sufficiently for the task. His mind fogs and his eyes screw tightly as the effort takes what little remains of his energy. It takes but a split-second for him to accomplish his goal but when he does his mind reels and he gasps with surprise at what he discovers. At that moment the doors are thrust aside and impact against the walls of the chamber. The three attackers rush in, a mad, almost animalistic look on their faces. Their blades play back and forth in small sweeping motions as they creep forward, intent on enjoying the last moments of fear washing forth from their prey. Moving smoothly, the elderly stranger interposes himself between the approaching templars and their targets and that action draws a slight snort of contempt from those seeking them harm.
"You will not harm them as long as they are under my protection. You and your kind have caused enough suffering already. Leave now, and I will spare your lives. Stay, and you will die at my hand."
"I think not old one," contemptuously sneers one of the templars as he gestures and the other two move to surround them.
"I have cleared your dampening efforts and have informed the surrounding templars. They will be here within a matter of moments."
That last bit of news causes the attackers to pause slightly in hesitation as they begin to consider their chances of escaping the stronghold now. However, it only takes them a moment to weigh their options and come to a final decision, the mission comes first. Moving as one, they unleash a hellish scream that seems to almost rattle the walls of the chamber as they rush at their prey.
Moving with swiftness far greater than his age or for that matter, anything a Protoss could ever accomplish, the stranger acts. Beams of energy so pure, that they lack all color, pour forth from the cloaked figure and strike the attackers, pinning them to the walls or nearby equipment. The effects are staggering as howls of rage transform to cries of extreme pain and agony. Energy courses through their bodies in sheets of moving light and cause them to thrash about madly under the abusing beams. Changes begin to take place as the false shells are burned away to reveal their true shape.
Massive quadruped, dark-gray forms writhe in agony under the hammering lashes of light as their screams are replaced instead with sharp gurgles and grunts. The air stinks of burnt flesh and charged ozone until finally the beams are silenced at the source. The silence that fills the room in the aftermath is almost as deafening as the survivors struggle to comprehend what they have just witnessed. The walls where the beams struck are blackened, warped and still smolder from the intense charges that battered them only moments ago. What remains of their foes is not much to speak, nor look at. The charred forms lie where they fell, barely even recognizable from what they once were but one thing is obvious; these were not the bodies of Protoss or anything else they have seen.
"What are they," asks the healer as she cautiously drops to examine the remains of one of their attackers.
"Enemies who would do you harm," states the stranger in the same soft tone.
"I do not understand."
"You will in time, young one," whispers the stranger as he turns to the sound of an approaching noise. Shouts and rapid footfalls echo along the walls outside and are heard through the blasted door as the first of the templar guards rush to secure the scene.
"You must come with me, Kreza. It is no longer safe for you to remain here."
"But my people must be told the truth."
"They will in time but there is much that we must show you. Much that you must learn in order to save yourselves."
"And what of them," asks Kreza as he gestures towards the two healers.
"They are no longer in any danger. They will remain behind to explain to the others what happened here."
"But the others must know the truth!" exclaims Kreza as he erupts into a brief bout of coughing. "Or this event will only breed more confusion."
"Very well," concedes the stranger with a slight sigh. The course material of his cloak rustles slightly as he reaches into the darkened folds and produces a single white crystal.
"Healer, be sure that this crystal reaches Praetor Gratix. It contains information that he will find most useful. To him and him alone; do you understand? The crystal will react only when it is in the hands of the true recipient."
"Yes," hesitantly replies the healer as her mind wonders about the hidden meaning of his last sentence. "I will see to it that only he receives it."
She reaches out and takes the offered item from the old hand of their mysterious savior. Twirling the small crystal in her hand, she turns her eyes on it as she wonders what great secrets it contains within its multifaceted finish. Outside the chamber, the first of the templar guards can be seen as they advance cautiously forward as more reinforcements quickly arrive.
"We must leave now, Kreza."
"Why not stay?"
"Because they are not yet ready to know the truth from me. That crystal will provide your friend part of the information that he needs. Your other companion will provide the rest."
"Chan'dras? She is well? She survived the initial attack?"
"Yes. And you will be awaiting her when she finally arrives," the stranger adds as he spares a quick glance at the templars approaching.
"I asked you earlier to trust me. Now I am asking again. Will you trust me, Kreza?"
"Yes," he answers as he spares a quick look at the templars entering the chamber, "I trust your words."
"Then take my hand and knows that all the questions you have will be answered soon."
Kreza reaches up to take the hand of the stranger as a soft glow begins to radiate outward and flows over them both. Their forms seemingly vanish within the folds of the intense streams of light. The physical surroundings begin to blur and warp as more energy is brought into play and washes over the walls of the chamber like flowing liquid. With a silent flash of light and energy being released, a yellow-white crackling sphere is created and slowly encases them within its warm and inviting glow. Much to the surprise of those present, the two forms disappear in a flash of light as the area they once occupied slowly reverts back to normal. In the wake of the spent energies, the stunned templars merely wonder in silence to themselves what it was they just witnessed. Surveying the massive amount of carnage and the three, charred unknown forms, those in command quickly suspect that the answers to this night's disaster will be interesting indeed.
