A Simple Question

Draken gripped the staff once seeing Bathlazaar. "A choice you say, however you don't tell me what I have to pick from. Choices require decisions, you say I have to choose, yet there are no decisions for me to pick. I doubt you were the one calling me here, so why are you here? Or were you called here as well?" Draken kept a close eye of the powerful mage, he knew he was not some simple mage. He knew Bathlazaar could beat him easily, "So do you have decisions for me to choose as of yet?" Draken could feel the fear inside his chest rising, this was bad.

He beheld Draken with amusement. "I took you for intelligent. Do first meetings truly become displays of idiocy? I ask you as you stand upon a blade and you speak as if you are ignorant. You must sense the change in the air. An age is ending, the death of an era. New life must rise again."

Gelt took one single step forward. The wildlife quivered away, going as far away from here at the two powerful auras and the presence they brought. His power was tested against mortal men, lesser Abyssal, and older. But now, at the precipice of destiny itself, it may be its greatest test. Gelt felt a rare flutter in his chest. It may have been excitement. It may have been anxiety.

All of it was banished easily. He would not let emotions cloud his choices. Far too much time had been preparing for the great move. This was now.

"Shall I give you a simple choice? Allow this upon thine ears, lest your poor mind run dry. Bow to me."

He stared through the eyeholes of the golden mask, lightly bringing the staff directly to his side in line with his single step. With the gentle tap, power flowed into the Weave. To the arcane eye, the threads tied between the two were impossibly knotted. Both beheld power and both beheld power.

"Or be broken," he finished, his will a heavy weight upon the air.

Rains streamed down his golden mask as he beheld The Diablo.