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Jon yelps, nearly tripping over his own chair as the latest attempt of his spell fizzles into sparks of magical energy, he huffs as his glare settles on the other in the room.
“Must you keep watch me, Mr. Bow’chard?” He grumbles, letting his tail twitch as it uncurls from the defensive position it took around his leg.
Elias stands a few bookshelves down from Jon’s desk, absently running his fingers across the spine of a tome as he watches the tiefling’s fruitless attempts, “I cannot give you the answers you seek until I see growth in your ability, Jonathan. You must prove yourself to the Great Watcher.”
Elias’ eyes are an intense silver, as if the moonlight filtering through the high windows reflects off them. Just as it sparkles off the silver embroidery on his cleric’s robe.
The Great Watcher. Jon had heard a lot about this creature with nothing of substance to prove its power or existence. The other gods of the realms have a traceable history, even deities such a Bane or Lolth have enough literature to justify their worship.
But nothing in their vast library speaks of a Great Watcher, and if he had half his senses he’d take it was another lie spun to drag Jon along…No. There is more to this, and Jon is determined to know.
“However, I will propose a deal.” Elias wanders his way over to Jon’s desk, an old oak thing covered in candle wax, ink, and miscellaneous papers from his hard work in restoring and copying these manuscripts,
“You keep up your attempts at this Arcane Eye, but summon it into my drawing room instead. If you succeed, I will tell your Eye all that you have been dying to know.”
Its an opportunity to not only show off his talent in spellcasting to Elias without the pressure of his piercing gaze, but to receive some solid answers questions. How enticing.
“Fine. But you will stay in your office until I either cast the spell or visit you to admit defeat.”
“Deal” Elias’ hand extends, a cool midnight blue to contrast with the dark, tawny orange of Jon’s infernal claws. Elias selects a tome from the shelf and heads for the door, pausing to impart one last bit of wisdom, “Try again, Mr. Sims. It will come to you in time.”
Jon gives a little grumble in assent before pouring over the scroll once again, taking pinch of bat fur from his escapades in the tunnels to give it another go.
Settling the fur into the palm of his left hand, holding it out in front of him as if it’s an offering. Jon takes a deep breath and focuses, manipulating the fingers on his free, right hand into a series of signs.
Elias told him to call upon the Great Watcher to seal his spell, something he was against for his prior tries. He wouldn’t let Elias have the satisfaction if the spell succeeded. But without that looming presence, without expectation, he takes the risk.
“Magne Vigil, conspectum tuum da mihi.”
At the last syllable, the tiefling tosses the fur into the air to watch it burn up into pure Weave. A brilliant shimmering blue that forms a thin line before splitting open to a grotesquely slitted pupil, a black gash through the center of a green iris.
Jon takes a second to temper his excitement, then subsequent pang of horror once he remembers it’s supposed to be invisible. Even to the caster.
Yet he has to shake it off, otherwise his answers are as good as gone. With a deep breath, Jon begins to move his right hand forward, the eye following his motion.
A positive afterimage of the eye’s vision feels as if its seared into the inside of his eyelids, giving quite a clear picture of the Arcane Eye’s surroundings.
Jon carefully maneuvers it out of the Archives, up the spiral stairs, and into the cracked door of Elias’ office.
Its a lavish room decorated with a plethora of magic-touched items. Both side walls have been covered with shelves filled with books or oddities imbued with magic. Among them being some items Jon recognizes, a Pipe of Smoke Monsters, a Butcher’s Bib, and a Fate Dealer’s Deck.
Mr. Bow’chard seems to notice instantly, beckoning the Eye in closer with a proud smile. The drow flips through a few pages of the tome on his desk, flicking through biographies about monsters and entities found in the Underdark. Elias’ gaze flicks back up to the Arcane Eye as the page settles. At first Jon registers the entry as that of a Beholder given the round bodyshape, eyestalks, and large, piercing eye boring into him from the page.
But only when reading the entry title does his stomach drop.
An Elder Orb. A Beholder born with sorcerous abilities that has gained near-immortality due to its magical prowess. There was no doubt in Jon’s mind.
What Elias was dealing with, what he himself has now pledged his life’s work to, was an unfathomably powerful Beholder.