Erskine felt rather useless throughout the whole process. That would have bothered him if not for two things. First, he'd volunteered to come, knowing he wouldn't be doing much more than watching - or hoping he wouldn't be doing much more, anyway. And second, just watching the whole process was fascinating enough.
There wasn't any physical evidence of anything happening until the circle China drew on the ground started to glow, and then to hum. His curiosity piqued, Erskine hung around the corner of an intersecting corridor to watch the two nearest Cleavers; when it was their turn to dispel, they simultaneously stepped right into the mirrors, the way any normal reflection would. But rather than becoming normal reflections, their figures dimmed within the glass. Dimmed, and then warped together, bending together into a single distorted reflection of the solitary Cleaver standing with them. The effect was eerie. Erskine could see himself reflected several times over down the corridor, and without a solid knowledge of the maze's layout, he had no idea which walls were the mirrors and which walls only looked like they were walls. The single distorted reflection could almost have been a magical side effect, with the way it looked like it was cast through solid mirrors.
Erskine glanced back at the Cleaver in the middle just in time to see cracks, angled and twisting through the armour. Those same cracks were glowing blue, just as when the last Cleaver shattered as so many pieces of a mirror, only the cracks this time were slower.
It wasn't enough, Erskine realised. Maybe too many reflections had died over the years, or maybe Bliss's soul was just that powerful, but not even this upgraded Cleaver was going to be able to hold him. What would happen if the last possible Cleaver broke? Would Bliss's soul be free to join the lifestream?
As horrible as it sounded, Erskine almost hoped for that. It would solve a lot of their problems. When Solomon leaped forward, however, the Elemental felt a welcoming flood of relief, and that relief turned out to be well-placed as the cracks stopped spreading. They didn't disappear, but they didn't get any worse. It was like the golden light emanating from Wreath held the Cleaver together long enough for Bliss to possess it, an effect that was so much more eerie than the reflections. Because it was looking an awful lot like Solomon fighting Bliss, and... somehow, inexplicably winning.
Erskine had never seen an unhelmeted Cleaver before. He suspected few people had. It was most definitely Bliss under there, and that was somehow even more eerie. Particularly when you realised it actually was Bliss, and not just a reflection of the most powerful man in the world. A simple reflection would never be able to rip whole pieces of armour off like they were nothing more than sheets of light plastic.
Dexter was helping him. Solomon, Erskine had to assume, was down for the count. John... probably wouldn't be much help, even if he did have powerful magic, because he was looking far too dazed to even realise there was a threat. China, on the other hand, looked just as tense and ready to fight as Erskine was. That gave him a small amount of comfort. Until Erskine was sure Bliss was Bliss, he wasn't going to relax.
China wasn't saying anything, and probably wouldn't, and that was probably wise. It left Erskine to step forward, forcing a smile, surveying Bliss's new vessel. "I used to think there wasn't anything under those suits of armour," the Elder confessed. He inclined his head respectfully, because at least the Bliss he remembered was worthy of respect. "Mr. Bliss. It worked properly, then?"
no subject
There wasn't any physical evidence of anything happening until the circle China drew on the ground started to glow, and then to hum. His curiosity piqued, Erskine hung around the corner of an intersecting corridor to watch the two nearest Cleavers; when it was their turn to dispel, they simultaneously stepped right into the mirrors, the way any normal reflection would. But rather than becoming normal reflections, their figures dimmed within the glass. Dimmed, and then warped together, bending together into a single distorted reflection of the solitary Cleaver standing with them. The effect was eerie. Erskine could see himself reflected several times over down the corridor, and without a solid knowledge of the maze's layout, he had no idea which walls were the mirrors and which walls only looked like they were walls. The single distorted reflection could almost have been a magical side effect, with the way it looked like it was cast through solid mirrors.
Erskine glanced back at the Cleaver in the middle just in time to see cracks, angled and twisting through the armour. Those same cracks were glowing blue, just as when the last Cleaver shattered as so many pieces of a mirror, only the cracks this time were slower.
It wasn't enough, Erskine realised. Maybe too many reflections had died over the years, or maybe Bliss's soul was just that powerful, but not even this upgraded Cleaver was going to be able to hold him. What would happen if the last possible Cleaver broke? Would Bliss's soul be free to join the lifestream?
As horrible as it sounded, Erskine almost hoped for that. It would solve a lot of their problems. When Solomon leaped forward, however, the Elemental felt a welcoming flood of relief, and that relief turned out to be well-placed as the cracks stopped spreading. They didn't disappear, but they didn't get any worse. It was like the golden light emanating from Wreath held the Cleaver together long enough for Bliss to possess it, an effect that was so much more eerie than the reflections. Because it was looking an awful lot like Solomon fighting Bliss, and... somehow, inexplicably winning.
Erskine had never seen an unhelmeted Cleaver before. He suspected few people had. It was most definitely Bliss under there, and that was somehow even more eerie. Particularly when you realised it actually was Bliss, and not just a reflection of the most powerful man in the world. A simple reflection would never be able to rip whole pieces of armour off like they were nothing more than sheets of light plastic.
Dexter was helping him. Solomon, Erskine had to assume, was down for the count. John... probably wouldn't be much help, even if he did have powerful magic, because he was looking far too dazed to even realise there was a threat. China, on the other hand, looked just as tense and ready to fight as Erskine was. That gave him a small amount of comfort. Until Erskine was sure Bliss was Bliss, he wasn't going to relax.
China wasn't saying anything, and probably wouldn't, and that was probably wise. It left Erskine to step forward, forcing a smile, surveying Bliss's new vessel. "I used to think there wasn't anything under those suits of armour," the Elder confessed. He inclined his head respectfully, because at least the Bliss he remembered was worthy of respect. "Mr. Bliss. It worked properly, then?"