Bastian stood up, wiping the blood from his knuckles. "No more, everyone weapons away."
The Golden Skull moaned, his golden face mask punched in. Bastian took it off to reveal the man underneath the mask and the wide brimmed hat. He had curling rams horns under the hat, his face was pale and scarred. "I've had enough of you interfering. Say what you want, they'll be your last words. Then I am going to walk away, and whatever happens, happens."
The Golden Skull wiped blood from his mouth and tried to stand, holding his side. "You are touched by Shadow. It lives...within you...I cannot let you live..."
He extended his blades but fell, cutting his hand with his own blade.
"Explain yourself, murderer." said Bastian.
The Golden Skull turned his face to the side and said "When you began your tenure as a Guardian, your magic became strong. You beleived you mastered it, thought what you did was of no consequence. Kept to your standards...." here he winced as he tried to get up, but could not. He rolled on his side. "You were not careful enough. It's within you. A tiny fracture in the fabric of reality. It's seeping through, like sand through a crack."
Bastian grabbed the Golden Skull's collar and said "Spit it out, you loathsome cur."
"Shadow, what Arath once was. Where the Shadow Lords rule supreme. They are leaking out through you, and every spell you weave makes the gap wider. What you call small interventions have been too far reaching and too absurd. The cloth of the worlds is unraveling, and you are the one who unravels it. For this transgression, you must control your power or perish. I will...not..." Bastian was clinging hard, strangling the Golden Skull now.
"Will not what? WILL NOT WHAT?!" shouted Bastian.
The Golden Skull choked out "Let...you...live..."
Bastian threw the Golden Skull down an kicked at his face, knocking out a tooth.
"I don't like killers, Annatang Illrian. Yes, I see the horns and I know what you are. Who lives inside you, come out and have words with me."
The Golden Skull's eyes begin to glow a vivid golden yellow and a voice, jaded and old came out.
"I am Zjar'q, The Grey Light of Dawn. My host is part of the ancient family Mourningstar who now lies broken before you. His mind, through sharp and wise has become stubborn and resolute in it's righteousness. He follows the Annatang Path, and he has sworn himself to stopping any harbingers of the Destroyer. He will not waver, not while the thing he seeks is close at hand."
"What, Illrian. Speak now and in plain words." said Bastian, stepping back a step.
"A box, which is sought by agents of evil. It contains something of great value, such that they would endanger the lives of all who conspire with them in order to achieve what they aim for. It lies within the Valley of the Red Moon, in Egypt where the Pharaohs lay resting. This box has many keys, and the servants of evil have done everything they can to gain these keys. We have stolen them, prevented their acquisition by acquiring them ourselves, and killed many who aided evil. He believes you to be against him, but if I am given time I may convince him otherwise. But promise him one thing."
"And that would be what?"
"Keep your magic to it's limits. You reach far to aid your friends, but he is right. There is a rift inside you, growing. It cannot be reversed, only constricted it it's growth. Keep your magic use to a minimum and keep it simple. The more grandiose and complex, the worse it shall become. I must sleep, I grow weak and my host is badly broken. Have mercy on us,"
Bastian turned around and began walking away and said over his shoulder "Subdue him, restrain him, and place him in the brig. Then do as you wish."
The whistle blew three times, and the elemental began to swirl around and crackle with blue energy. The pilot was taking control and soon the place outside was filing with mist, buoyant mist which would carry them aloft.
