⟠ - ⟠ - ⟠
The Gateway still had the look of ancient ruins that many of the convergence points on the continent itself tended to have. Elua had designed the place that way more out of habit than homage - it was just a simple fact that the architecture was conducive to the containment and stabilization once sigils were placed in the way that she was trained. Redesigning things that had been refined over thousands of years served no real purpose unless she wanted distraction, in the reincarnator's mind.
Air could be felt thrumming as the contained energy was siphoned to its purpose. The crystalline condensers pulsed and dimmed as that script was bent to its purpose. A sequence that would punch a hole between dimensional spaces and form the one way link to a far off place. And standing in the center of it all was the mint-eyed owner who would only admit to being a steward, for now.
