SIXTH BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES OF FANTASILIA SERIES
𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴.
Xanthiene Vivenca has to find allies and legendary objects of po...
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2412, Diori 12, Briss
Cyrdel peered at the translucent screen tracing the magical signature of a throne. It was a rather ingenious work for such a rush job and limited resources. It had been simple enough and he was a bit miffed he didn't get to try the other alternatives he had calculated in his brain. Another time, perhaps.
Right now, he should focus on getting them into this point in the plane where the scepter theoretically was. For the past three hours, it has been proving difficult. First, they would have to figure out how to disable the alarms around the camp which were hidden and were resistant to foreign and unregistered trails. It was another rip-off from Cyrdel's hidden plans he hadn't dared propose to the King and Queen for territorial security.
It's so annoying how Cyrdel's inventions were the ones keeping him and his companions away from achieving their goal. Everything's so ironic it's almost funny.
The second challenge was navigating the tents pitched on the open field and the number of people bound to notice them if they made it past the alarms. Questions would be asked since there's no doubt everyone knew each other in this tight-knit camp. He didn't know where the other Synketrian camps were pitched and he wasn't foolish enough to conclude that this was the only spot.
Calmly raltzing in wouldn't do either.
Finally, the weird pulse of magic his screen detected almost beside the scepter's signature itched at the edges of his brain. It wasn't exactly a throne but it's strong enough to get detected by the parameters he had set into his gadget. Was it a good thing or not? Who knew? He mentioned it to his two companions and they didn't appear as perturbed as he was.
Cyrdel rolled his eyes when they waved him away. Of course, they have explosive and amazing synnavaimis. It's easy to rely on magic at times like this and expect it to always fix things for them.
However, as he reminded them through and through, they needed to conserve their magic for the real thing they might be walking into when they get to Penleth. If they enter the battlefield drained and tired, it's not going to help anyone. They would just be added dead weight.
At least, Denara had agreed and now crouched next to him. She frowned at the flickering display on his screen and wrinkled her nose. "There's really no way to bypass security at this distance?" she said. She had her head in this game far more than Cyrdel and Nyxis combined.
Nyxis had suggested the tactic an hour ago and from Cyrdel's calculations, it would take at least a week before Cyrdel could even reprogram the alarms. Not to mention, he needed a functional workshop and about a hundred tools Denara hadn't even heard about, some of which Cyrdel had designed himself.
Cyrdel shook his head. "Too complicated," he glanced at the sky and at the pale canopies blocking it. "We don't exactly have a lot of time."
Nyxis took a vial out from his satchel, popped the lid open, and sniffed. He winced as he shut it off. Cyrdel figured it wasn't what Nyxis was expecting as the ice sprite shoved it back where it came from. "Should we just trip the alarms and sneak in to take advantage of the chaos?" Nyxis said.
