Capítulo 58: CHAPTER 58 - HOPE

Participants filed listlessly into a basic council chamber for a routine matter. Awaiting them was a long oval table of dark blue, and stout chairs carved of the same stone core. In the heart of Wonderstruck Synthesis, they were safe from prying eyes. Among the cohort were the designated ministers of the Voices of Reason and their leader Telenon. How the most purposeful of them became head was a twist of fate. An astute yet ill-tempered man, he sat at the front of the table. The others bowed to him, knowing with full awareness the scope of his abilities. Its transformations flawless, its essence precious. Below the gates of Wonderstruck the outer space of various matryoshka rumbled with potent, newborn stars. A crisp energy hovered about him, ready for the day's work. "Are we ready to decide on the trials?" he questioned. The others nodded in agreement. For the majority of them it was a pleasant start. Yet all of a sudden, a sullied renegade trod in. He was voiceless as he stood and took a stance at the other end of the table. Telenon grit his teeth. He should be in a dungeon. A dungeon with a million dragons. "Do we have the honor of hearing from Dramatic?" he offered delicately. The old gray beard stepped closer. A breeze ruffled his robe, "Indeed we do … brothers and sisters. Just recently I have returned from an interesting survey of the earth matryoshka. The world turns and the people are in good spirits. I walked the cities. I felt the air on my face. But as I did the future fell into my sight. They are coming my friends, the citizens of another Elementum. The Rikiral. Fast through space in their tireless ships. Soldiers of a planet one hundred times the scale of earth. And they will find our people. Astounded by each other, the meeting will be harmonious. Due to this, human and rikiral will interbreed and their imagination will become more powerful. A salience beyond anything. Free, pure thought. The focal element in its true realization". "Enough Dramatic!" Telenon barked, "The masses know I am the greatest warrior of imagination. My fist is the hardest. It turns everything to embers". Dramatic did not flinch. He scanned the audience and cleared his throat for rhetoric, "Voices of Reason, hear me, even as we speak an ordinary human born today has an innate ability greater than all of us, and as time passes our children will surpass us". A buoyant laughter circled around the room. Ministers looked to their neighbors in mirth. "Clever sport old man. Did you come here to challenge me?" Telenon dared, rising from his seat. He scowled, thinking the others' speech was null and void. From there they all arose and went to the adjacent room, where an arena jutted from the ground. There, Voices clash by manifesting a display of imagination in turn, each stronger than the other, until one is of greatest energy. Ministers spread out, greedy for the sparring to begin. They had their favorite, and in thoughtless passion they had already guessed the winner. Telenon gracefully lifted his arms and sailed his hands through the air. Along his fingertips trailed a fine delicate powder of pulverized magic. Effortlessly he brought into the foreground a vision of fire and of blazing monsters firing cannonballs from their backs. Raptured, the crowd patted each other on the back. But Dramatic was not impressed. He had seen his friend's work before. He had seen him fashion the Spheres of Zest. He had seen him cause the Machiavellian Eagle to burrow into the sands of Loyasa. He had seen him halt the Vessel of a Thousand Leagues from its transit through Multi Proxima, although its thrusters were the size of mountains and the turrets were plasma cannons. This was a meager display and he wouldn't recoil in the way a lesser man would. Dramatic took a deep breath. Now it was his turn. Rhetoric had failed so he would need to deliver something else. Something that would open their eyes. Telenon crossed his arms in contempt. What an ill-mannered brat. So, the old man channeled all his enigmatic force into a single hand. A glint in his eye alighted. The robes upon his person danced with ripples. And he reached into the future, where there was the first man to find love with a rikiral woman, and reached into his spirit. Mahandran Echo gasped. "This is it '' Dramatic knew. The ministers waited for the display, and they were not expecting such a push all the way back to the wall from light itself. Mahandran felt his hope for the future fly into the air, departing his body. The quickness of time arrowed through the room. Atop the platform a world appeared, the future as the couple sought. It was earth, lit with bright cities of human and rikiral alike. "THIS IS THE FUTURE !!!" Dramatic burst, his voice deep like the ancient voids of space. Energy left the minister's clothes in shreds. The brightness of the hope-earth paralyzed Telenon for the first time ever. He had never felt this way. The trembling fear. In seconds the thing dispersed and they were alone. For the room, what had been witnessed could never be unwitnessed. A defiance against those that had whispered into the cosmic trees. And him who was their chieftain. Not a single domain had ventured to oppose them and lived. Telenon regained his senses once the image was gone, "You were once my best warrior, my best friend" he cried, "You want to help the humans … then become one!!!". The chieftain rushed to Dramatic and grabbed him by the robe on his chest, thrusting him forward. Crashing through stone, they plummeted onwards through Wonderstruck back to the land of stars. Dramatic peered behind him. Like a downed spaceship, they were headed for a crash landing on some lush forgotten world. Telenon roared as fierce rage shriveled his countenance. As that happened the mighty wizard bashed the other through the world like a wall, and onto the second world in the solar system, and the third. The triplets exploded in kind. They had been barriers. Meaningless. Dramatics' eyes flared like newly minted silver coins. He punched his aggressor back. The chieftain craned his neck. The old man had grown to fifty times his size, his robe billowing with the chill of space. He stared down with silver that had become flame, its tail flicking into the unknown. Yet Telenon knew he dwarfed the other. He stood still, waiting for instinct to dawn and make him a warrior … then silence. Dramatic was surprised. He kept his eyes on the man to see what it was. Magnificent continents whirled past into the depths of space, their tips glowing like toy infernos. Planes of gravity shifted out of their regular order. Its effect swept through neighboring systems, sending strange orbs to new quarters. Without fellowship, the star became a relic. Then it happened. Swiftly, unexpectedly. Wet tears made a mad descent down the man's face. It was a quirk the old man did not anticipate. Telenon pointed with his right, outstretched arm, "I will give you one mercy, go to the humans, never return". The sorrow pounded deep in his chest. Rich like drum beats. As Dramatic saw the chieftain his eyes returned to normal. His size decreased, "I will go, but I will find a champion, and they will reclaim the stars". In gusto he turned, his robe flapping in kind. In moments he would escape in faultless acceleration through the aether. His feet would be on earth. His bare soles on mild grass. No … he stopped. That was not enough. With eyes no longer engulfed in metallic flame he looked back at the man who was his friend, who was his comrade, who was his leader, "I enjoyed that day in the park". And they would part ways. Days later everything was set in motion.