Cadryn turned around in a full circle. He is standing in the middle of a large cavern. The walls, the floor, everything, seems to be slowly moving, as if it is adjusting him. A thought briefly crosses his mind that it is recognizing him. He can still sense the flux, touch it, but all traces of Cian and the two warriors are gone. In fact everything is gone. Cadryn has never felt so alone in his life.
The artifact, he wishes he had a name for it, continues to throb. He pulls it out of his pocket and studies it. It looks old, millennia old. The shape is vaguely human. He directs a thread of flux into it and it appears to come alive. He sets it on a ledge and directs a powerful beam of flux into it and the earth beneath him moves. It is a deep groaning sound like the planet itself is rolling over in its bed. Cadryn picks up the object and feels for what its purpose is. He can almost sense a directional pull emanating from it. Almost.
Wind rushes past him, like someone, or something massive breathing. The walls begin to soften and smooth out. Roots retract. The rumbling finally stops. Cadryn trys again to center himself and embrace flux. It feels different here. It is not benign, neutral like on his world. Here it is less obedient, more primal, and more powerful. Flowing like a river trying to find its course.
A presence stirs in the deep. Not a being—more like an attention. It does not reveal itself, but it notices him.
Cadryn gets an impression; ancient magic, covenants made. The impression is too fleeting. He didn’t get enough of it to make sense. The artifact he realizes seems to reacts fearfully or protectively. Cadryn realizes it is not merely guiding him, but hiding him from something.
The realm begins to shift again—an approaching tremor from somewhere behind, maybe Cian’s attempt to breach the barrier, maybe something older responding to Cadryn’s crossing. Cadryn must move deeper, though he has no idea where “deeper” is. The realm seems to open a path only when he commits to stepping.
Ridgewalker's Notebook 