The Masked One looked down upon his two new followers. "You two were smart to join me," he said, glaring at them imperiously as they knelt before him. His eyes glowed violet once more, as tendrils of mana wrapped themselves around the two men, solidifying into a thick, dark violet armor that increased their height and general build. The eye sockets of their horned helmets began to glow as they each flexed their hands and rotated their shoulders to gauge how it felt.
"This armor shall give you the strength of ten men, so long as you remain in my service," he said as the final tendrils were absorbed into their armor. "You are no longer Alf and Osgar, but Dakzul and Kimzul instead. From now on, this will be how you introduce yourselves to anyone you come into contact with. Do you understand?" he asked, glancing between the two. "We do, lord," they said in unison, bowing their heads.
Masked One raised his right arm. "Rise, my servants," he commanded, forcing them to obey and stand before him. They had gained a meter in height each and could feel the armor's power surrounding them.
The Masked One could feel their awe through the armor and grinned beneath his mask. "This book you've brought me has a value no man can place on it. Consider this armor as a token of my gratitude," he began, but was interrupted by a dark, featherless figure that flew through the shattered windows above them, landing only a few meters away.
"Master, a force of Synners from the north is making their way here," the creature panted in a raspy, unnatural voice. The Masked One's eyes flared a little. "Synners, you say? Now that is interesting. I will send the signal for the creatures to prepare for battle," he said with a dismissive wave. "As you wish, master," the creature replied, flapping its leathery wings and flying out the window from which it initially arrived.
Dakzul and Kimzul glanced at each other. Neither of them really knew how to fight, and with a small army of professional monster slayers on the way, it was surely a cause for concern.
Wait, we weren't prepared to fight in a battle. When did this come into play? Kimzul shuddered a little.
He felt the same way as Wingar had just a few hours earlier and immediately understood his brother's concern. The Masked One, reading his thoughts, didn't react, since he knew they weren't ready. Unfortunately for the two newcomers, he showed no signs of caring in the slightest, making them exchange yet another glance.
The mage opened the book again, reading it more carefully, though still with immense speed. He went over to press the small stone that would open the passage behind the throne, but instead of pushing it once, he did it three times and slid it forward. Dakzul and Kimzul watched as the stones they had just stood on moved apart.
"Gentlemen, we have our mission to complete first, and we must do so before they arrive," he said. "What exactly are we looking for, great one?" Dakzul said, noticing his voice was now distorted. "One of the greatest gifts given to us by the gods over a thousand years ago: the Gwynnleaf," the Masked One replied over his shoulder.
The great stones continued their rumble, moving away from each other and revealing the stairway beneath them. He began to read the book once more while he led the other two down the steps and into the darkened library. His two servants were in awe at the vastness of it all and had difficulty understanding the information their eyes received.
The Masked One turned countless pages, nearly completing the book before descending the first flight of stairs. He noticed there were only gargoyles and tall shelves of books around him. "Gentlemen, welcome to the Library of Coltend," he said, a tone of grandeur ruling his voice.
Wingar was right; it was a library, but this looks different from any library I've seen, Kimzul thought.
"According to this book, the Gwynnleaf is located within this library, though it required me to insert a different pattern of presses into the stone to reveal the passages leading to it. We must find it before the Synners arrive, so split up and report back to me when you do," he commanded. "Yes, lord," they replied in unison, quickly
The three were off, down the vast halls leading to different library sections. "It's going to be like finding a needle in a haystack," Kimzul said with a distorted voice that echoed throughout the halls. "Only this needle is extremely powerful, important, and probably worth infinitely more than our lives," Dakzul replied. "Don't worry. We will find it, even if you two cannot keep your mouths shut," the Masked One snapped, his voice echoing throughout the chamber.
They went on silently, as the Masked One searched for even the slightest hint of mana, finding nothing. They turned down several different halls when Kimzul noticed a strange vase. "Lord, I think I found something," he began. The Masked One appeared before him in a flash of movement, nearly causing Kimzul to stumble with the amount of mana exuded.
He should have been a few halls over. How the hell did he do that so quickly? Kimzul flinched.
"What is it?" the Masked One asked impatiently.. "I've sensed a small draft of cooler air coming from this direction. There's also an empty vase here," he said, gesturing to the object in the dark. The mage regarded it curiously, bending over to inspect it more closely as he did so. "You might be on to something, after all," he grunted, leading the way down the nearest hallway.
The hallway led them into a confusing labyrinth of more shelves and countless books that gathered dust from ages past. At the end of the maze stood a large, iron door in their path.
This has to be it, the Masked One thought.
He drew immense quantities of mana from the Underworld and placed his palm on the door. He pulled his left hand back and cast an Exar spell, bending the door inwards and folding it in two. A rush of cold air filled the hallway, and the large room revealed before them was deathly silent. The Masked One frowned as he stepped through, feeling not even the slightest tinge of mana. He looked around and saw a field of what appeared to be dead, leafy structures, each in its own pot.
It can't be that the ignorant bastards allowed these Gwynnleaves to die, he thought with a disappointed sigh as he reached for the book again, desperately searching for any information regarding their appearance.
The structure of these plants matches the diagrams depicted in the book, but it also says that it's supposed to be glowing and resonating mana. Even so, there's no way it could have died; it was a gift from the gods themselves, he thought.
He walked over to the plant nearest to him, examining it closely as he plucked one of the leaves and instantly felt a slight tinge of mana. "There you are," he grinned wickedly, looking at the small stub the plucked leaf had left in its stem.