The Defenders of Daybreak stood in front of the Temple of Ascension, and watched the cold mountain air rip itself open.
The first thing they noticed was the deep rumble. It was the kind of noise that preceded earthquakes, a low vibration that made their teeth vibrate and their eyeballs hurt. Surprisingly, the noise also brought on a sort of elation, the feeling of imminent delight that something majestic was about to be revealed. The feeling was ecstatic and disturbing both, and almost certainly supernatural. Colors began to play across the air, shimmering spokes of silver and purple spinning as they sought purchase, and then a section of reality simply caved in. The feelings of imposed delight and shivering wonder crested in a few heart-pounding seconds, and two radiant creatures stepped out of the magical vortex.
Emperor Congenio Ioun had arrived.
As usual, Ioun chose not to travel with a retinue. Only he and his secretary Annel d'Ioun stood on the snowy mountain field that surrounded the temple. The Emperor smiled slightly as his feet touched the chilly earth, and the vortex behind him collapsed in on itself and disappeared. The rush of emotion from his arrival persisted, however, continuing to vibrate along the soul.
Ioun’s secretary steped forward. “The Emperor Ioun greets the faithful of Aeos and Calphas, and the heroes known as Defenders of Daybreak,” she intoned in a ringing voice. Ioun gave a quiet laugh.
“They know who I am, Annel,” he said quietly, and stepped forward to greet Velendo. His dozens of spinning Ioun stones moved with him. “Good to see you again.” Velendo bowed his head in respect.
“It’s an honor to have you here, Emperor,” he said.
“Indeed. I’m hoping that our mutual interests will prove fruitful.” Ioun’s pale eyes glanced across the gathered Defenders, and Velendo instinctively knew that he had just memorized each of their faces. “I don’t believe that I am acquainted with all of your associates,” he said politely. He looked back at Velendo. “I was sorry to hear about Nolin Benholm. I liked the man.”
“Thank you, Emperor.”
Agar stepped forward, barely managing not to glance at the sky. “We have had the pleasure of meeting, Emperor,” he said. “I admire your work, and as you can see we use some of it ourselves.” He indicated the various Ioun stones orbiting the heads of the Defenders.
“Agar Smoketallow. It’s been too long.” Ioun eyed Agar’s robe of the alienist with a critical eye, and raised his eyebrows a quarter of an inch.
“This is Dame Mara Thornhill and Lord Malachite, Radiant Knights of Aeos.” Both stepped forward. “Dame Mara will be speaking on behalf of the most holy Clarion, high priest of Aeos and ruler of Corsai.”
“Of course,” said Ioun. “Your reputations precede you.”
“As does yours, Emperor.”
“And my name’s Eve!” Excited, the girl stepped forward. “I’ve heard. . .” Secretary Annel’s voice was like a whip clad in satin.
“You will address the Emperor by his proper title, please.” Her tone brooked no dissent.
“I’m sorry.” Eve bowed her head, outwardly chastened. “Emperor Ioun, it’s a pleasure to meet you after having heard about you for so long.” Her face didn’t betray the embarrassment she felt, or the resentment. I could send you to your happy place, woman. Then you’d sit and drool and soil yourself until you starved to death. Who would you bully then? Eve instinctively glanced at Malachite, thought about what he would say if she did teach this woman some manners, and pushed her thoughts of vengeance away as unfitting. She smiled weakly.
“Thank you, Eve.” Ioun’s eyes narrowed. “You are the girl raised in Nacreous, is that right? Remarkable. It is good to have met you.” His gaze moved on to the others, but Eve’s pale cheeks were still bright red from her embarrassed flush.
“I’m a princess too,” she muttered to herself, “even if I don’t know from where. Proper title, indeed.” Next to her, she suddenly saw Agar’s eyes roll back in his head.
“Mister Agar? Are you okay?”
“The vault of the sky is collapsing,” mumbled Agar, “and no one can see it but me. It has been planned for months. The shouting of the miners heralds the fall of hope!” His eyes began to slowly refocus. Agar could feel the actual pressure of being buried alive, and being buried alive meant that you couldn't swat at insects, and not being able to swat at insects meant that those insects could burrow and crawl all over you, and the eggsacks would hatch, and. . . and. . . Agar yanked his mind away from the yawning chasm of insanity.
“Agar?” Eve sounded concerned.
“We need to get inside, Velendo,” Agar said over the mindlink, his thoughts full of panic. “It’s not safe out here.”
Velendo responded smoothly. “It’s cold for June, and we are high in the mountains,” he said. “Perhaps the Emperor wishes to go inside.”
“The Emperor wishes to refresh himself after his journey,” said Secretary Annel.
Journey? thought Eve. They walked through a portal! She blew air out of her nose in annoyance.
“Of course,” Velendo said to the Secretary. “We have quarters prepared. Please come this way.”
He led the way inside through the massive temple doors. The Defenders and the temple staff followed. Agar gave one final, suspicious glare at the slate-gray sky before the huge doors slammed closed. Can’t trust it, he thought to himself, and cringed from fear.
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
