Walking further into the obelisk, the smaller tower surrounded by five large edifices, each containing a key component of the ruling parties of Reyopa, the Imperial Legate remained posed as she walked into the rotating structure as Pligal and the other Centuria followed. Pausing before turning back, her orbs met the Centuria escort of Pligal.

"You have done well, Ishhgil." The Supreme Commander stated.

Placing her orbs upon Pligal, noticing the new cerulean wrappings adorning him. The chosen design of her own, the Imperial Legate smiled as she orbed him.

"Those fabrics serve you well, young one. I welcome you into my elite Centuria."

Behind her, the walls continued to shift as sweet aromas surrounded them. As the brown tower stood firm on the outside, closing quietly yet quickly, the inside appeared a world in itself. Tangerine laden walls embossed with a clashing black, brown and green streaks. Swirls of intricate designs flooded Pligal's orbs. Thin silver bindings wrapped around sheets of orange overlaid metal, holding the frame in place while the pieces moved to seat themselves. Clicking softly as they adjusted to their closed position, the light of outside faded as the plasma beams fixed upon the sheets of metal glowed soothingly.

The chamber housing them, shifting as it swelled ebbed with light continued to wow Pligal as it moved smoothly. Comfortably holding them, the ceiling hung high above them as the room allowed for Pligal to walk around it, inspecting carefully as the Imperial Legate and Ishhgil watched him swoon.

Finally closing, the building seemed to hum as it held them within its secure structure. The plasma radiating gently, lovingly licking the walls with its caress. Pligal turned toward the watchful orbs of the two, unshaken by what he witnessed, but hungry for more. Stepping forward, he bowed in supplication, while making a fist in a sign of respect.

Turning his gaze downward, he said heavily, "I am honored to be in your presence Supreme Commander. I am not worthy to receive such privilege."

"You speak the truth, little hatchling." Ishhgil spat.

Shooting Ishhgil a glare, redoubling her stance, lifting her head in a commanding tone, the Supreme Commander's orbs burned her subordinate. Recoiling, Ishhgil shrunk within their selves. Biting their lip, Ishhgil stepped backward into the chamber wall. Its circular design nestled against the Centuria, comforting them as fear circulated within them.

Watching their underling cower away as a hatchling scared of their own scales, the Imperial Legate relaxed slightly before turning back towards Pligal's supplication. Walking towards him, her blue wrappings with yellow and light brown swirls shifted, caressed her as it hug upon her frame, tight, yet slackened.

Placing her right talons upon him gently as Pligal continued to avert his orbs, she said coolly, calmly, "Stand, young one. I must show you something. Come this way." She said turning away and walking towards the chamber wall.

Standing, at once to her order, Pligal walked with her toward the edge of the chamber wall. Curiously, he watched her as she reached into her wrappings in covering her torso and pulled out a small thin object. Turning, the Imperial Legate met Pligal's orbs before exposing what she beheld. The light of the plasma torches around them reflected the purple glow of the plasma. Crimson in hue, sitting in the middle of her pad, lightly held by her talons, she looked into his orbs before exposing the nuances of this sheathed blade.

From hilt to curved sheath, deep red in color, it slightly reflected purple specks as Pligal's orbs became transfixed upon it. Silently, it entranced him. Quickly, he breathed as this small blade, the size of one of his talons called out to him without making a sound. Fighting the urge to rip it from her pad, Pligal tightened his own talons into his own pads.

Nodding silently as she watched him, the Imperial Legate unsheathed the blade exposing a white curved blade. Interlaced with soft yellow streaks, more brilliant than the torches surrounding them, Pligal winces as his orbs adjusted to the assault from its glow.

Cutting through the silence, the Imperial Legate said low, "In order to be under my direct command, this blade, well, rather, this edifice requires a sacrifice." She said waving to the building around them.

Darting his orbs to her own, Pligal asked cautiously, "A sacrifice?"

"Yesss." She said menacingly as her she stepped forward with her blade.

Holding his ground, yet tensing his body, Pligal looked around nervously as Ishhgil remained in place, their orbs watching, and their face expressionless. Turning round, once more, Pligal saw a slight smile etched upon the Imperial Legates scales. Relaxing slightly, the Supreme Commander grasped one of Pligal's talons as she brought the blade down upon his pad.

Widening his orbs, in horror, Pligal fought the urge to pull away before she stopped the width of a talon away from his pad. The blade shone in the flickering light as Pligal's biolight shuddered in fear. Gasping for air, unaware he held his breath, Pligal met the Imperial Legates orbs before noticing a pleased smile upon her face.

"Fantastic that you held steady during this." She said booming with energy. "Most flinch or pull away. Some have attempted to fight me outright. Ha Ha!" She laughed loudly. "However, they didn't know what I am capable." She said, with a darkened smile spread over her visage.

Recoiling inwardly, Pligal didn't notice as the tip of the blade penetrated his soft pad. Barely feeling it, he shockingly stared as it slid further into his pad. Confused, he looked up at the Supreme Commander as she glanced hard upon him. Pulling the blade out, green life fluid covered the tip of the blade. Staring back at his pad, Pligal noticed the wound appeared as a minor scratch. The type many younglings incur during their exploration of the world around them.

Turning around with the emerald coated blade, the Supreme Commander struck the side of the edifice with the white blade as it glowed at the puncture site. Jade-colored veins erupted from the wall as it melded with the colorful walls of the structure. Glowing soothingly, Pligal felt his own biolight match the frequency of the glow. In tandem, they radiated as Pligal felt him mind grow fuzzy. A wash of white light obscured his vision as he felt his back hit a something supportive, yet sharp.

Surrounding him, he saw a field of thorns. No longer in the same room as Ishhgil and the Supreme Commander, he heard their voices as a soft inaudible murmur as his mind attempted to understand what met his gaze. The thorns pulsed as they he stood in the midst of them. Appearing to move away from him, Pligal witnessed a ghastly sight as the multicolored dirt became exposed.

As far as Pligal could see, countless decayed remains of his kind, the Ak-Wo appeared before. Husks of scales without innards surrounded him as their scales expressed wounds of great proportions. Severed heads, weapons fashioned from the hardest of minerals as heavy armor lay bundled around their bodies held the blades, the bludgeoning weapons in their final positions, in league with the dead.

Gasping, Pligal's orbs welled up with emotion as he stood in this field of death, in this land of decay. Dropping to his knees, he cried out into the wilderness, yet nothing met his summons, as his voice remained silent. However, something heard him, something that moved with such swiftness, that he could not comprehend what transpired before him.

The thorns swooped back into the land, binding him as it glowed softly. Wrapping his body, nestling against him, Pligal fought back with his talons, kicking and jerking his torso away from the enfolding thorns. Fruitless against the power of this land, Pligal noticed the wrapping thorns refused to smother him. Unwilling to crush him, the cascading thrones and vines surrounded him in a cocoon before his vision returned to him.

Hazy, at first, he blinked as six sets of orbs watched him from above. The 23rd Centuria gazed at him as he adjusted himself, bringing talons to his face in examination. Shooting silent glances at each other, Pligal sat up as he noticed the cold ground comforting him.

"Welcome to the fold kin." Ishhgil said.

Taking a double glance towards Ishhgil, Pligal said groggily rubbing his face with his pad, "Huh? W-wha? Hmm. You can't be the same Ishhgil I met previously. Where am I? Is this part of the vision as well?"

"Vision?" A high-pitched voice to his left cut in.

Turning his orbs toward them, he noticed more Reyopans surrounding him.

Thinking to himself, Pligal ruminated, "No, not Reyopans. They are adorned by the Supreme Commander's garb."

Sighing, Pligal made to sit up as two of the 23rd Centuria moved forward wrapping their arms around his to support his adjustment. To his left, with a stature close to Dorn, yet smaller, while to his right, one who appeared malnourished, their scales shrunken, the thorax miniscule, appearing sickly held firm with surprising strength. Carefully watching their intent, Pligal stiffened slightly as they aided him.

The Centuria to his left said softly, "Composed yourself. We are all affiliates of the same party."

The same high-pitched voice cut in, once more, "Ugh, speak plainly Luminol. Not everyone understands you. So," She continued, "What did you mean by a vison?"

"Mmm," Pligal said adjusting. "You ask me questions, yet I do not even know how to address you." Meeting her orbs, he continued, "Pretty rude if you ask me."

"Ah, I see you speak similar to Luminol." She said annoyed.

"Please, let's think about his perspective. He awoke surrounded by strangers. Unfamiliar persons, who press him for answers, yet provide none." Ishhgil stated flatly. "Please present yourselves to our newest Centuria."

"Fine! Na-Lor." The high-pitched Centuria said cutting in angrily.

The Centuria assisting him to his left stated, "You are acquainted with my appellation. Luminol."

To his right, the sickly, yet strong Centuria addressed himself briefly, yet succinctly, "Xianthm."

The last two Centuria, announced themselves together as their voices blended, contrasting each other.

"Forindy"

"Kath-Adim"

Laughing slightly as the others turned their attentions to them flatly, the taller zes smiled sheepishly toward the smaller zes as the smaller nodded toward the taller before continuing, "I'm Forindy. This fine zes over here is Kath-Adim."

A silent moment passed between the two as the others watched them.

Breaking the silence, Na-Lor cut in, "They are mates. That's why they behave that way with each other."

"Na-Lor!" Ishhgil shouted. "That is not for everyone to know. We don't know what the other clans think of such things. It is not for you to announce their truth. Be silent!"

"Whatever." Na-Lor said annoyed.

"Be still everyone. It is quite fine. Their proclivities are none of my business. Yes, the clans of Duidon may not accept them." Pligal said standing while walking towards Forindy and Kath-Adim. Reaching them, he reached out his arms, placing his talons on their wrapped shoulders before continuing, "To find one to imprint on is a glorious sight. I don't care if you are zes or seywaw, you are both beautiful together."

With his words, the two mates stood taller, their biolight flickering with contentment as the other Centuria nodded silently to his words.

Turning toward Na-Lor, Pligal continued, "Now, you inquired of me and my experience. My vision. It was odd. I found myself in the middle of a field, which had some form of awareness. It knew I was there and wanted to show me something."

By their expressions and biolight, Pligal understood, by watching them that his experience was unlike the others.

"Curious. A field with barbed vines?" Luminol spoke after a few seconds.

"Yes." Pligal answered as silence hung on the air.

The others glanced uncomfortably as the moments piled over each other, as Pligal grew more inquisitive over their reactions.

"What do you make of this?" Pligal said interrupting the silence.

"How unprecedented. To think that the same structure, the edifice, which houses all of us and the Supreme Commander in the landing above, seemed to speak to you." Luminol said quietly.

"I don't follow." Pligal said confused.

Taking a deep breath, Luminol said quietly, "The land of the dead. The ancient theater of war sodden with tremendous units of lifeblood of the many clans. The awe-inspiring beauty housing many secrets. The Plains of Nasfa."  

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