Ardent

Chapter 4.2

Tyr pushed himself up from the desk, leaving the tablet behind him as he stepped across his office and through the exit. He clenched his jaw. What had happened now? He was questioning his involvement in this mission. It seemed to be one thing after another.

The hallways that led to the Echoing Chamber were framed by high glass windows that reached the ceiling and revealed the extensive gardens that decorated the city of Alendor. Long-leaved trees grasped for the endless blue sky, their branches extending towards their sun, Mintaka, as if in praise. Flowers dotted the ground, spaced against the green foliage in a sporadic myriad of colours, shining brightly in the midday sunlight. Some blooms were large, with petals extending outwards into a point, while others were small splashes of colour resting against the greenery of their roots. The ivory buildings of Alendor, some extending in tall spires, moved with the flora, working with it instead of against it.

Various robed individuals moved through the gardens, speaking with each other, tending to their surroundings, and contemplating in silence. Due to its quiet and peaceful ambiance, Alendor was a place many came to collect their thoughts, to relax. Those that remained and inhabited the city dedicated themselves to the pursuit and protection of knowledge, and they welcomed well-intentioned visitors with open arms.

Something was not right the moment Tyr entered the Echoing Chamber. Silence occupied the place where debate and conversation usually reigned, and its heaviness was unsettling. He allowed his eyes to move up the ivory columns that framed black walls before touching a mirrored ceiling. The floors here were white, their reflection in the ceiling giving the room the illusion of endless height. A statue holding both arms outstretched affixed each column, two males and two females, all with their mouths open as if in song. A black material crafted their eyes, a blunt contrast to their smooth alabaster figures. Tyr felt as though the eyes were bearing down on him, and he had to avert his gaze. Something was wrong.

"Agent Logan," a low voice spoke from the head of the room. The gravity of its tone sent a brief shiver down Tyr's spine.

Tyr approached the dais that spread out in a crescent shape around the circumference of the room. The many seats that decorated the head sat empty. Delegates and representatives of Alendor were the usual occupants of these seats.

"Chair, you summoned me?" Tyr spoke, inclining his head in respect.

The Chair was a tall Ohation of great age although one outside of Ohatior could not have discerned it. His long silver hair extended to his feet and was clasped back into a long tail at the nape of his neck. His body was unadorned except for robes of purest white; no jewelry of any type rested against his deep, violet-tinged skin. Eyes of pitch-black studied Tyr with great seriousness, their infinite blackness extending to the edge of where the whites should've been.

The Chair was the supreme head of Alendor. He had stood as the leader for as long as Tyr remembered, bringing the city into the splendour of a great time of peace. It was because of him that the city was known as the Bastion of Knowledge. The Chair had worked tirelessly to bring information from all sides of the galaxy to Ohatior, making it the central information hub of the Milky Way.

"I have troubling news, Logan," the chair answered, his eyes closing and extending a long arm towards Tyr. "Come." His voice was ominous, and its tone disturbed Tyr.

The Chair turned from him, walking to the back of the Echoing Chamber. He placed his dark hand against the smooth black wall, pressing his palm onto the cold surface. As he exhaled, the wall shimmered and vanished, revealing an opening. The Chair stepped into it, and turned, waiting for Tyr.

Tyr followed the Chair down the short corridor, his face pensive. This wasn't good at all. The Inestimable Room only opened on the rarest of occasions, and when that happened, there was an entire guard keeping watch.