Siirus

Taking the reins with him as he stepped from the telega, San flicked the straps over the panting horse and fed them through a staked needle. Walking from the steed, he pulled up the collar of his surtout as biting wind whisked about his cheeks, making him shiver.
The day hadn’t begun cold, and for the most of Sern the morning sun still bathed the land, Nû Inmû however, was a world apart from its neighbouring communities.
Cursed by an eternal current, the land that time forgot had been deserted by its former inhabitants when the winds drew in. Although the Tnsii had left Inmû to the ages, there still remained a presence in the blighted plain, one that, beyond all dispute, had become the sole purpose of any man’s reason for journeying there.
Mt Aseitûf sat squarely in the centre of the abandoned community, perfect but imperfect; conical but defaced. A victim to a tectonic eruption, the pyramid had sunk by half its original height. Where the ground had swallowed the mountain’s base, a circular moat of rock had formed, disturbed only by breaches on its circumference where the land had caved in centuries ago. It was breaches such as these that allowed the braver adventurer to access Aseitûf.
Striding assertively, San walked across the lip of the longest trench. He was aware that shorter journeys could be made to the bottom if he were to travel to a further ingress, but it wasn’t that extra effort that deterred him; San knew too well of the consequences incurred by tackling the attractive option. Although indeed shorter in distance by far, the chutes that led adjacent paths to San’s favourite were also far more hazardous then they would appear, something for which the reminiscent Seron was not happy to admit to.
The ever-present hum of the heavy air around him accompanied the traveller, as the grim atmosphere above found quandary within the confines of the restrictive sluice; descending from the boundless acoustics of the sky, the groaning hang could do little more than heave dully in the dry gully.
San trudged on. Far from begrudging this harrowed walk, the military officer found a certain charm to the dankness of the approach. It was the knowledge of what was to punctuate this journey that led him to like it; so accustomed was he to the crepuscular ambience created by this place that the end no longer felt as conclusive as it once had. It was the prelude to Aseitûf that San warmed to.
Stepping inside, the tentative Meradona stood momentarily in the small ogive, staring down the dark tunnel so as to adjust his eyes to the poor light. Venturing on, San began along the humid burrow.
Feeling his way along the granular walls, the forthright Seron gripped assuredly onto clefts and cleaves as he rediscovered familiar shapes in the passageway’s sides, pulling himself confidently into the blackness beyond.
Deftly sliding to the channel’s bottom, San felt out the ledge with a foot, assuring himself of the extremity of the outcropping before continuing.
Stones and dust fell to the coarse floor beneath him as the Colonel sidled expertly along the cavity bank, the speckled resonance a comfort to his ears; the depth of the cavern now secure in his mind’s eye.
Feeling out the embossed key, San grabbed at the projecting rock, smiling at the recognition. Turning about, the shroud figure leapt from the ledge, landing squarely on the plateau just metres below. ‘Phew.’ He exclaimed. ‘No matter how many times I do that, it always gives me a buzz.’ Flapping out his coat so as to air himself of the humidity, the perspiring Giianeo looked into the gloom, sighing out in preparation of the anticipated decree. ‘Aisauji Niiurû! Srao-E'raserei!’
Blinking into perception, sinuous threads of indigo and ultramarine rose from the pits, increasing in radiance as the seams multiplied. Thunder rolled outside as the skies above the mountain embraced the approach of their internee, shaking the crag with a murmuring vibrancy. The seams became streaks as lines formed from the rising light, melting into each other in purple streams. Spiralling about the dim chamber, the beams corkscrewed up with orgasmic alacrity, lighting the cave in a sparkling sweep. As the rift became cyclonic, the strings joined, and the swirling sac merged into a glimmering cocoon of violaceous radiance. In a flare of melodious light, the spinning pod elegantly ruptured, dissipating into the darkness as delicately as it had appeared. Sailing from the apex availed, the Time Keeper descended. ‘I command all, foolish are those that defy me, I am Time.’ Drifting gracefully, Srao-E'raserei glided to the cavern floor, his phoeniceous balandrana fanning majestically about him. ‘Who has summoned me?’
‘It is I, San Castenii.’ Replied the Colonel, humbly in awe of the celebrated demon.
‘Seron,’ began the imposing spirit, ‘you appear before me once more, tell me, do these conditions please you so, that you visit me with such frequency?’
San smiled. ‘I must admit Srao-E'raserei, I have long since forgotten the apprehension this cursed land first imbued in me, but it is not the lost fear that draws me here; I brave Nû Inmû for your wisdom and your wisdom alone.’