The morning he presented the crystal and the proposal, to the entire council: his parents, Morgan, Sierra, Celeste, Jareth. He revealed everything, withholding nothing his own fleeting moment of deceitful allure.
The reaction was volcanic.
"Definitely not!" Tania hit the table forcefully. "It's the poison only packaged more attractively! She wants you to assist her in destroying the world as we understand it. Label it 'art!'"
"It is a progression " the Angel of Death stated, his tone freezing the air. "She has challenged his strength and resolve. Now she aims to join forces with his capacity. It signifies respect.. Grave peril."
"Is it possible?" Morgan inquired, his expression pensive. "I mean, in theory. Could a pair of entities, with a Primordials consent actually… alter the storyline?"
"Perhaps " the Angel acknowledged, a serious admission. "The essence of reality is narrative. Nyx is both the spectator and the stage. Involving her as a partner… the danger isn't that the Queen falters. The danger is that she triumphs."
"Then we break the crystal and move on " Sierra stated bluntly.
". What happens if shes correct?" Cassiathon spoke softly. All eyes turned to him. "What happens if the cycle is merely a senseless repetition? What if there exists a method? Perhaps not her approach,. An alternative? If I leave, if I listen to her I could discover something. I might uncover a weakness, in her master plan to exploit.. I might detect a route we have yet to consider."
"It's a gamble " Celeste remarked. "You enter her domain following her rules. Even if she respects the truce what you learn could… transform you. The notion is a seed.. Seeds sprout, in shadowy spots."
Jareth rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Intelligence chance, though. To observe the core of her strategy. That's priceless."
The argument intensified. It mirrored the turmoil within him: prudence against inquisitiveness, protection, versus bravery apprehension battling a yet hopeful aspiration.
At last the Angel of Death lifted a hand to quiet the room. "The choice belongs to Cassiathon. He stands at the center of this struggle. He must balance the danger to his soul with the benefit, for every soul." He gazed at his son. "You have borne the strain until now. Do you trust yourself to step into the core of the temptation and keep it steady?"
Cassiathon glanced at the crystal at the expressions of those seated around the table—his supports. He reflected on the web they aimed to construct on Hope's Respite and, on the constant arduous fight.
"I'm not sure " he replied candidly. ". I realize that if I avoid it the question will linger in my mind.. She might discover another moment to raise it maybe when we're more vulnerable." He inhaled deeply. "I'll go.. I won't be solitary, in spirit. Celeste—you mentioned you grounded me. Could you… form a connection? A tether, to your peace. I don't get lost in the vastness of what she's offering?
Celeste agreed, yet anxiety flickered in her gaze. "I'll give it a shot. It will be a link but it will serve as a tie back to…, to this. To us."
"And we'll stand by " Tania declared, her tone sharp, with held-back tears. "The moment you require a pickup you tug that string."
"And I'll arrange for a team to be ready at the physical site, to wherever that crystal directs " Sierra stated, quickly jotting down notes.
". I " declared the Angel of Death "shall observe the threads of destiny. Should your thread start to unravel into corruption I will be aware."
It was a plan. A dangerous, fragile plan.
Cassiathon grasped the crystal. The choice was settled. He would enter the dragons den not as a knight. As an envoy, from the realm of turmoil and decision to receive the message of flawless crafted tranquility.
He triggered the crystal.
In the middle of the room a portal of spinning soundless blackness appeared.
Without another word, holding Celeste's newly spun, fragile thread of sea-calm in his mind, Cassiathon Abysswalker stepped through, into the heart of the Queen's design.