Shiva takes a confident step towards the Warden, her gaze now matching his in intensity. Throwing her hand out, she powerfully clasps the forearm of the man's extended hand. 

"My will could rend the heavens, I promise you." She then officiously speaks the words of the pledge. "I swear to aide and defend this sanctum until my dying breath."

Elias’s lips curl into a smile and he clasps Shiva’s forearm in return, his grip firm and unyielding. Piercing blue eyes bore into the tiefling's, measuring the weight of her conviction. The runes on the warden's robes flare briefly, as though acknowledging the bond, and a faint shimmer of the same symbols ignites between their joined hands, growing brighter with each passing moment.

The sigils hovering between the pair flare with an intense, golden light and, in that instant, Shiva feels a searing heat. The sensation begins in her palm and races up her forearm like fire coursing through her veins. The experience is both excruciating and exhilarating, as though her very essence is being etched with the magic of her oath. Her skin burns, but does not blister. Instead, intricate patterns of glowing runes spiral up from her wrist to her elbow, their golden light pulsating in rhythm with her heartbeat. The markings are angular and sharp, imbued with Elias’s power and the weight of her pledge.

As the light fades, the runes dim to an ember-like glow, before settling into faint scars, their golden hue lingering just beneath the surface of the tiefling's azure skin. They feel warm to the touch, as if alive with latent energy. Elias releases her arm and his eyes glint with approval.

"The sanctum has heard your vow and accepted it," he says, his voice low and resonant with quiet power. "From this moment on, your strength becomes a part of this sanctum’s defence and, in turn, I shall lend mine to your cause. The markings will remain as a reminder of your bond and the power that flows between us. Draw upon it wisely."

Shiva’s arm tingles with residual heat, the marks seeming to hum faintly with purpose. Her promise has not only been heard — it has been branded into her very being. Releasing her forearm, Elias steps back, his hand moving through the air in a graceful motion. A faint shimmer follows his gesture, forming a translucent sigil that hovers briefly between them, before dissolving into the ether.

"I will begin the search for the items that you require. Some will take time to locate. Others may demand that we act swiftly. Once this matter in Beschcadik is resolved, I will summon you to discuss the next steps. Until then, steel yourself for what lies ahead. You may have to prove your will against forces far greater than us both."

"Prepare yourselves well for the journey to Sarameia," the warden continues, turning back to the group to address them all. "The road ahead will demand every ounce of your resolve."

His eyes linger briefly on Astrid, before settling on Caio.

"When you are ready, return to me. The rift shall open and your path to Beschcadik will begin."

Shiva grunts as she lets the pain in and soaks up the adrenal response that follows it, hissing through grit teeth as the runes sear themselves into her forearm. The nature of this pain is familiar to her, leaving a scent reminiscent of almonds in her nose while the round, subtle sweetness of a ripened fruit settles onto her tongue. Radiant, holy magic. As the ritual reaches its end, she surveys the markings, their faint, golden glow a compliment to the richness of her dark blue skin. 

She has an instinctual sense of the purpose of the runes, a buffer of sorts. Something to keep her demonic essence from spilling over and totally consuming her. Both a wall and a window between her soul and the seed of entropy that rested upon it. Beyond that, she was unsure. 

"Thank you, Warden Elias. This is hope of a future. For that, I will fight and persevere with all that I am."

Just as she turns to follow Caio and the others out, she can't ignore her curiosity over the new additions to her body. "Sir, I can feel that these runes are giving me relief from my demonic essence, but I get the feeling that they're capable of more than that. Can you tell me about them?"

Elias calmly watches Shiva as she speaks, his hands folding once more into the voluminous sleeves of his robes. When she asks about the runes, his head tilts slightly and a faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"You are perceptive," the warden begins quietly. "The runes do more than suppress your demonic essence, though that is their primary function. They act as a seal and a siphon, stabilising the volatile energies within you to prevent them from consuming you. Without this anchor, your soul might crumble under the strain of its burden."

"Nevertheless," he adds, gesturing towards her forearm, where the golden marks still glimmer faintly, "you are correct. They hold other purposes. The runes are attuned to the energies of this sanctum, drawing strength from its wards and feeding it back into you. Should you falter or face a moment of great peril, they will grant you a measure of protection, fortifying your will and body against external forces that might seek to exploit your condition."

"As ever, this comes at a price." he continues, stepping closer. "The runes are not passive. They will react to your choices and to your intent. Should you betray the sanctum or falter in your oath, the power that they provide will turn inward, consuming you as surely as your demonic blood would have. They are both your shield and your judge."

Elias regards Shiva gravely for a moment and then his tone softens.

"This is not my expectation. So long as you remain true, the runes will evolve with you. The brighter your purpose, the stronger the connection. Perhaps, they may yet guide you to the key that will rid you of this curse entirely. For now, they will serve as a bridge between what you are and what you strive to be. Wield them wisely, and they will not fail you."

Shiva nods in understanding as the Warden explains the magic in layman's terms. 

"They're buying me more time. And with the relationship that you've described between my essence and the runes, drawing too much on the demonic strength could knock it out of balance. Or make them less effective, I mean. Am I right in saying that? That I should try to refrain from drawing on my essence? 

As she reflects on the rest of what the Warden had described, she can't help but smirk. 

"I will not waiver in my oath. As for my purpose, your guess would be as good as mine. I want to protect others as much as I can. That instinct has led me through most of my life. But I don't want to take up any more of your time. Thank you again for the protection and the hope you've given me."

She turns to the rest of the group, still smiling. "For the hope you've all given me." She sniffs and coughs dryly, trying to play off her misty eyes. "Now let's get ready to fight an insane lich elf and his ****ed up kid."

As she goes, she looks from the runes on her arm down to the ring on her finger. Her mind swims with the possibilities that could come of their pairing. 

Alaris nods and throws arms around the shoulders of their tall companions, Shiva and Caio. Seeing the warder's power sink into Shiva and bring her hope was almost more than the bogatyr's outward resolve could bear. "Yes, we are protectors. Each in our way, it is this that has drawn us together and that power brings us both toughness and temptation." They smile at Astrid, including her in the aura of their embrace. "We are in harmony again, and our foes will regret giving us this opportunity to recover that."

As the group begins to move and make ready for their journey, Caio stops and turns to Elias.

”Truly I dread to ask you for yet another favor, Warden, but is there any chance you might be able to send me to Paragon and back? I commissioned a weapon and was to have it delivered here not realizing we’d be flinging halfway across Arden after just half a day.”

"The Imperial City requires a complex and destination-specific enhancement to the basic transportation spell module," Elias explains, "but Paragon is simple... if you would care to follow me."

The warden gestures to the door that the Septem Mortale entered through.

Caio does as instructed, following the mage through the unassuming door.

The air in the dimly lit corridor is noticeably cooler and carries the smell of aged parchment and ozone. A faint, blue glow emanates from runes etched into the walls, casting strange, shifting shadows across the smooth stone floor, which has been polished to a sheen that reflects the light like a rippling pool. The corridor narrows slightly, its walls lined with recessed alcoves that house crystalline orbs, fragments of sigils etched on bone and strange, otherworldly relics that seem to hum with latent power. Elias walks ahead with an unhurried but deliberate pace, his robes whispering against the stone.

"Paragon," he notes, without turning, "a holy city, but rather militantly so. It does not surprise me that you sought a weapon there."

He descends a winding spiral staircase and the magic in the air grows denser, a prickling sensation creeping along Caio’s skin. The runes on the walls shift subtly as they pass, glowing brighter in response to warden's proximity. The silence is heavy, broken only by the soft echo of their footsteps.

Finally, they emerge into a wide chamber deep in the sanctum’s heart. The room is circular, its ceiling vaulted high above and supported by intricate pillars carved with scenes of planar convergence. At the centre lies a teleportation circle, its sigils meticulously inlaid with shimmering silver and sapphire. The runes pulse rhythmically. The circle’s design is mesmerising — intricate yet symmetrical — and the air within the chamber feels charged, vibrating faintly with an energy that resonates in Caio’s bones. Elias steps to the edge of the circle and gestures for the shadow elf to approach.

"The path to Paragon is straightforward. Step into the circle when I give the word and you will arrive at the teleportation circle in Sunhold Bastion... be prepared to explain your presence there. Contact me when your business is complete and I will open the portal once more."

“I can not thank you enough, Warden.” Caio places a hand gently on Elias’ shoulder, and Ghoul swoops up onto the mage’s other shoulder. He folds his wings demurely and bows his neck in an uncharacteristic show of grace from the normally rowdy cormorant. “Ghoul here will alert you when my business is done.” With that, Caio waits for the Warden’s word before stepping into the circle.

Elias nods and gently pets Ghoul, before beginning to enact the incantation. Seven runes of the circle light up one by one, their brilliance growing until the entire chamber is bathed in blue light. Caio can feel the pulse of power build, its hum resonating in his chest and filling the room. The sensation grows in intensity, until the edges of the teleportation circle pulse with a rhythmic, golden light. The air within the circle distorts, rippling like the surface of a pond disturbed by a pebble. Then, Caio feels a sudden pull in his gut and his surroundings vanish in a burst of white light.

For a moment, he seems suspended in a tunnel of liquid fire and shifting colours. A kaleidoscope of radiant hues swirls and twists around him, each streak of light alive and interwoven together in patterns too complex to comprehend. An wave of warmth and energy washes over the elf's body. The experience is both exhilarating and slightly disorienting. Then, as suddenly as it began, the light collapses inwards, and Caio feels himself propelled forwards with a forceful snap.

The world reforms around him with a faint whoosh of displaced air and the distinct sensation of solidity returns beneath his boots. The inquisitor stands within a grand, vaulted chamber of sandstone and marble, lit by narrow windows that allow shafts of sunlight to stream in. The teleportation circle beneath his feet is etched into the floor with intricate carvings that glow faintly, slowly dimming as the magic dissipates.

Two halfling guards flank the circle, each clad in a gleaming breastplate adorned with an insignia of the rising sun. Their faces are stern beneath their polished helms and each grips a tall halberd, its blade catching the sunlight in sharp glints. The guards tense immediately upon Caio’s arrival, stepping forwards with practiced precision to block any advance. The tips of their halberds lower. Not quite threatening, but clearly ready to respond if necessary.

"Halt!" Commands the taller of the two, his voice echoing in the chamber. "State your name and purpose for using the circle of the Sunhold Bastion."

The second guard narrows her eyes, looking Caio up and down with suspicion.

"This circle is not for public use. Who sanctioned your arrival here?"

Caio bows deeply, though even from this position he towers like a basalt cliff, casting gloom over the sun-sworn halflings.

”I am Inquisitor Caio Cypherien, Sanctioned Guardian of the Sanctum of Rifts in Five Towers. I come to Paragon on an errand of the Warden Elias Aetherweaver himself. I shall only be a little while in Paragon before returning, if that is suitable to the Bastion.”

The halfling guards exchange sharp glances, their expressions shifting subtly at the mention of Elias Aetherweaver and the Sanctum of Rifts. Though they do not lower their halberds, their posture relaxes slightly, enough to signal that Caio’s words hold weight. The taller of the two steps forward, craning his neck to meet Caio’s gaze, his face a mixture of scrutiny and respect.

"Inquisitor Cypherien," the guard begins, his voice carrying the crisp authority of one accustomed to protocol, “the Warden’s reputation is not unknown to us. Nevertheless, these circles are tightly regulated, and our duty demands vigilance. Forgive the formality, but proof of your claim is required."

The second guard nods, stepping closer and studying Caio’s attire and demeanour more closely.

"Have you a seal or token from the Warden to verify your purpose?" She asks, her tone respectful, but firm. "If so, present it, and we shall notify the Bastion’s steward of your arrival."

At the request, Caio can’t help but think of the golden runic tattoo which the Warden left emblazoned on Shiva’s arm. Then he thinks of the binding kiss which Elias had planted on him. As… unexpectedly stirring as it was, now he wishes for something a bit more visible. He glances down with uncertainty as if some badge or emblem will magically appear. What he does spot are the faint, golden lines of the Warden’s magic laid upon him. Of course, it was more than a kiss after all. 

Caio stands straighter and clears his throat. “Of course.” He raises two gloved fingers to his lips, pressing gently and recalling the taste of pears and cedar. As he pulls them away, the invisible runes materialize into interlocking golden circles which spill down his chin and jaw, down his throat where they criss cross over some of the black ink of hymns scrawled across his pale skin. “Will that suffice?”

The halfling guards visibly tense as the golden runes materialise, their intricate glow reflecting the sunlight that streams into the chamber. The taller guard narrows his eyes, his hand instinctively tightening on the shaft of his halberd. However, as the interlocking rings continue to unfold across Caio's skin, recognition dawns upon his face. The second guard exhales sharply, a mixture of awe and grudging acceptance flickering across her features, and her partner gives a curt nod, his initial suspicion giving way to professional deference.

"It will suffice," he acknowledges, stepping back to his original position. "The Sunhold Bastion will honour the Warden’s trust. Your passage is noted, Inquisitor Cypherien."

He signals to a robed attendant who had been standing silently near the far wall. The attendant, a slender gnome with sun-kissed skin, steps forward, bowing deeply before Caio.

"If it pleases you, I shall escort you first to the steward and then to your destination within the city. Should you require any guidance or provisions, the Bastion stands ready to assist."

The halfling guards lower their halberds in unison, their movements sharp and precise. The tension in the air has dissipated, replaced by a sense of controlled hospitality. Nevertheless, their eyes linger on the fading glow of the runes.

Shiva waited alongside the others, not following down the corridor after the Warden until she hears a great rushing of air followed by silence. Once she's confident that the ritual has been completed, she casually strolls down the hallway and into the space with Elias. 

"Sir? My friends and I will take our leave for now, please tell Caio when he gets back that we've gone out to prepare for the trip to Sarameia." Already, her mind turns to the sordid topic of coin.

"Though how I'll prepare with next to no gold remains to be seen." 

"Remember that fighting pit? It seems like a good way to make some coin if it wouldn't be too traumatic for you?" 

"Yeah, the thought crossed my mind but...actually, that doesn't seem like a bad idea. It's been 10 cycles since I last set foot in one of those things, and things are different now. I have family, friends, clarity, you. And now, an added bit of protection."

Turning back to the Warden, Shiva's features curl into a mischievous smile. "Actually sir, could you tell Caio that we've gone to the fighting pit? Please tell him that I've gone there to make some coin and not to worry-" She holds her hands up before her, brandishing the runes as her excitement causes them to faintly pulse a brighter gold. "I've got it covered. Thank you again for everything."

With that, she turns to Alaris and Astrid as she heads out of the building and straight for the establishment that she couldn't have been paid to enter just hours before. "You guys are coming, right?"

Caio cocks a brow, impressed at the clout his new ally seems to wield. “Of course, after you.” 

Caio follows the attendant from the teleportation room. “You mentioned provisions? What sort of provisions does the Bastion have at its disposal?”

The gnomish attendant moves gracefully ahead of Caio, her robes whispering against the polished stone floors as they exit the teleportation chamber. Outside the warded room, the air grows steadily lighter, sunlight spilling through arched windows to illuminate their path.

"The Bastion is well-equipped to serve those aligned with its purpose," the attendant replies in a soft yet confident tone. "Food and drink, of course. Beyond that, the Bastion produces armour and weapons, forged and consecrated to serve against the enemies of the Light." Her eyes flick momentarily to Caio, the faintest hint of curiosity glimmering before she looks forward again. "We also keep stores of holy water, relics and other trinkets imbued with protective enchantments."

She pauses, glancing back at Caio. "For those in need of more esoteric aid, we maintain a library of sacred texts and rituals, as well as an alchemical lab capable of producing tinctures, salves and infusions. If there is something particular you seek, I can inquire with the quartermaster."

The hall widens into a sunlit gallery, its walls adorned with banners depicting radiant suns and figures in gleaming armour. Guards and clerics pass by, some pausing to cast curious glances at the towering figure trailing the gnome.

"Do you have a particular need, Inquisitor?" the attendant asks.

“In truth I only came here to retrieve a weapon I had commissioned by one of your city’s fine blacksmiths. If I could have it consecrated by one of the Bastion’s clerics, that would certainly be a boon in our efforts against the enemies of the light. However, if your superiors would deem it acceptable… well there is quite a great deal your order may be able to help my allies and myself with.” He stops walking before he continues, his cloak collecting around his feet in a puddle of black. “We hunt a baelnorn,” he pauses, studying the woman’s face for recognition. “A glorified lich, really, for this one seeks only power and domination. He intends to bind his essence to a powerful ancient runestone. This would render him nigh unstoppable. We need anything, that can give us the edge in our fight.”