The|MULTIVERSE

EPISODE 25: A Bad Idea

"You never did tell us why it was so troublesome for you to let anybody down here in the first place," said Fae as she, Ricven, and the multiversers delved into Cruxhaven's underfoyers. Finally. Led by Ricven himself, they delved into the deep of Cruxhaven's deep halls, its surface levels miles beyond their heads.

"Um. Because I hate endangering my precious points of solitude?" Ricven said as if obvious. "I do enjoy being left alone, you know...? To my thoughts. Some quality me time."

"You do that enough when you ditch us for your lone wolf escapades," Wickels said. Ricven purposely abandoned them one too many times in the past, and not just with the episode in Oedimaar and Aiakha. His customary capers often had them go on a search for him, often leading to problems exposing their villain's ploy, and their asses on the line, or some other wild shenanigan worthwhile in the end.

Ricven cracked a smirk. "Heh. Worth it."

The journey into the bastion's lowest most mysterious reaches coiled into what the gang—except for Ricven, of course—expected was an abyss of winding stairs. Darkness greeted them from distance, but several flights later, globes of watery blue light guided their way.

"Geez!" Baartimo huffed. "How far does this place go?"

Ricven laughed. "Heh! Pretty damn far."

"Hard to assume dat' you endure these rounds per visit?" Cornelius inquired.

"Nope. I fly. More like a smooth drift."

"So did we," Aethenius added.

"Still far!" Baartimo complained.

"Hard to believe one as graceful as you complaining," said Ricven.

Baartimo grumbled. "Not everyone's like you."

"You'll get good soon enough."

"Dis' refuge still doesn't seem so immense by its exterior for anything of this magnitude to exist," Cornelius said. "I still find it personally perplexed."

"Yeah. You," said Baartimo. "Sure not me."

"That's the best damn part of this island, fuzzsworn! Did you expect everything to make sense?" Ricven said in a titillated chuckle. Baartimo's indifference to this place, its obnoxious staircase at most, tickled him the most, but what really got him, was how easily flabbergasted his friends became as if their astonished effects were endless. "Long time ago you didn't even think it plausible for other worlds to exist until Hunter discovered that ancient cosmogear. Now look at you. Mind's still blown like the tricky lips of Undine." The pleasurable thought put a sweet chill down his spine. "Ah, man. Those lips." He whistled. "They sure could blow some wonders. In any case, we're almost there."

It was a seeing Baartimo had to believe. Laughable granted his wondrous exploits with Ricven and organization they formed from themselves. If the silly me'ka, who was likewise a poetic one than he was out of his element at this period (a quirk of many), rejected the permanence of this ginormous conundrum of a throne-shaped bastion harboring larger secrets than a closet stuffed with skeletons, then Baaritmo Hillshire had some serious denial issues. Cruxhaven's upper levels raised no candles compared to what dwelled beneath, and Ricven knew it. They all knew it. Just some yearned for the mundane for a change.

The tedious stairway shortly expired, but the real mission just begun. The stairs unfolded into a super hallway; traversing wide, enough to provide all seven of them side by side with room to spare their arms aloof and then some.

Darkness embraced them again until Ricven marched forward and snapped his left fingers. Globes of light along the walls sparked for what seemed to be miles, and the pillars along the walls burned to life in that pale azure light, revealing a lavish deck, bronze and blue; an immaculate rug that seemed to had cost a fortune and a myriad of tapestries hung above, their outlets conveyed in what solid shadows prowled.