For a moment, he expected warmth beside him when he woke up. She was standing near the mirror and she was no longer just Elyonari.
The white and gold priestess attire was ceremonial with ivory fabric cascading in asymmetrical waves, trimmed in intricate gold embroidery. The bodice was adorned with a radiant star-shaped insignia at the center of her chest. The open back was framed by a dark halter, contrasted by soft ruffled sleeves and cascading skirts. Gold circlets nestled into her hair. Delicate bands wrapped around her arms and wrists. Even her boots were laced with sacred motifs.
She adjusted one of the golden clasps at her collar as well. Vastarael sat up slowly, watching her without speaking for several seconds.
"You look good."
She paused. There was the faintest shift in her eyes before she turned.
"Thank you, Monarch Vastarael."
Gone was the soft, teasing Elyonari from last night. What stood before him now was the High Priestess of Mintherenia. He leaned back slightly on his palms, studying her.
"Already in character?"
"It is not a character. It is my duty."
He hummed lightly. "Right. My apologies, Your Reverence."
She stepped closer, the layers of her gown whispering against the polished wooden floor.
"The first day of Etdramira requires to be calm. The atmosphere must remain harmonious."
"And what about you?"
"What about me?"
"Are you harmonious?"
She held his gaze.
"I am."
He knew her too well. That was a lie.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood, walking toward her. Even barefoot and still half-dressed, he carried himself like a monarch. He stopped just a step away.
"You don't have to shut me out when you switch into High Priestess mode,"
"I am not shutting you out."
"You are speaking to me like I'm a visiting diplomat."
"You are a visiting monarch."
He almost laughed.
"Elyonari."
Her fingers tightened slightly at her sides.
"For today, I will address you properly in public. It would be inappropriate to blur roles during a sacred ceremony."
"Public, sure. But we're alone."
That made her pause. Her gaze dropped for a fraction of a second before returning to him.
"Old habits."
He reached out and adjusted one of the gold ornaments near her shoulder.
"You're nervous."
"I am not."
"You are."
She exhaled quietly.
"The last time I conducted Etdramira while you lived… was before I met the others in that coastal city."
"And you're afraid of what?"
"That I will falter."
"You won't."
"That I will look weak."
"You won't."
"That I will forget a line."
"I'll pretend I didn't notice."
"..."
"Alright then, High Priestess Elyonari Mintheris, I look forward to witnessing your rites."
Her posture subtly relaxed.
"And Monarch Vastarael Richinaria, your presence honors the Kingdom of Mintheris."
He placed a hand over his chest and gave a small, theatrical bow.
"The honor is mine."
He leaned in just slightly and murmured quietly enough that only she could hear—
"You're breathtaking, by the way."
Her composure cracked for half a heartbeat.
"Please refrain from commentary of that nature during the ceremony."
"I said I'd behave."
"You rarely do."
"True."
She turned toward the door, He watched her walk. The High Priestess was now fully embodied. Her spine was straight, her chin lifted and her posture was formal. But just before she exited, she glanced back.
"Watch me."
The room felt different the moment Elyonari left it. Vastarael remained standing for a while after the door shut behind her, staring at the space she had occupied only moments ago. His eyes fell to the bed. There, neatly folded, was an elven outfit.
It was white and deep emerald fabric with leaf-vein patterns that shimmered faintly when light struck them. The outer mantle was long and asymmetrical, designed to drape elegantly over one shoulder. The collar bore the subtle insignia of Mintheris. The sleeves were structured but not restrictive, and the waist sash was woven with a delicate fabric.
On top of it sat a small card. He picked it up. The handwriting was cursive.
For the occasion, please wear this.
—E.
He set the card down and began dressing.
The fabric was cool against his skin at first. The mantle adjusted automatically to accommodate his arms. It was as if they could change based on the size of the wearer. When he finished, he turned toward the mirror. For a long moment, he simply stared at his reflection.
He tilted his head slightly.
"I look good."
A voice echoed inside his mind.
[You look sexy.]
He closed his eyes.
"Phaenora."
What? I'm stating observable fact.
"You're supposed to stay low."
[I am staying low. You can't get lower than disembodied cognition inside your neural interface.]
A faint shimmer flickered in front of him.
Particles of blue-white light gathered in midair. They coalesced into a three-dimensional hologram of a woman softened by digital distortion. Her form glitched intermittently. A horizontal glitch obscured her eyes completely, as if censoring her gaze from reality itself.
"I am currently in holographic mode with zero detectable energy signatures. I am behaving."
"You materialized."
"Hey, I'm invisible to anyone but you. And honestly, after that comment, I felt obligated to appear."
He resisted the urge to smile.
"Stay focused."
The teasing vanished.
"EPOCH is isolating us."
He didn't respond immediately.
"I know."
"She's aware of our interference potential. The First Epoch Cycle only collapsed because of us."
"Because of what we discovered."
EPOCH, The architect of cycles. The silent observer of eras. The entity that reset history when entropy crossed its threshold. They met her in Erna Isles and it wasn't pleasant.
"She pulled us out. You are not integrated into the Second Epoch Cycle's narrative framework."
"I noticed."
"You are an anomaly."
"I've always been. After all, I'm the first Transmigrator who actually isn't from the Hidden Citadel."
She ignored the comment.
"If it weren't for the World Tree granting temporary access, we wouldn't even be here. You're thinking."
"I'm always thinking."
"Not like this."
He turned slightly. His eyes narrowed as he looked at himself again in the mirror.
"The First Epoch Cycle ended under incomplete conditions."
"Seven thousand seven hundred years of blankness you mean."
"I doubt I was asleep that long."
"Your consciousness logs do not indicate suspension."
"The Obsidian Runic Spire appeared 300 years before we got to Erna Isles."
"Yes."
"Insignia emerged as a structural phenomenon."
"Yes."
"Sentient Krepsunas, actual living civilizations in the Erna Isles existed when we got there."
"Yes."
He looked at her reflection beside his own.
"The Temple Peroncerea and Eldridgan were trapped in. They witnessed two Deities who revealed the Nine Events."
Neither of them spoke for a while after that. There were a lot of mysteries.
"The Epoch Cycle is supposed to be a continuation of history but history doesn't randomly generate unexplained anomalies."
"Unless someone edits it."
He met her glitch-obscured gaze.
"Exactly."
"You think the blankness was manufactured."
"I think something happened during those 7,700 years."
"And EPOCH erased it, you mean?"
He didn't confirm but his silence was answer enough.
"You're out of the Second Epoch Cycle. You're not bound to its progression. That gives you leverage and freedom for now. Are you going to tell the others?"
"No."
"None of them?"
"No."
"Even Elyonari?"
"Not yet."
Her posture softened slightly.
"Is that because of the blankness?"
"Yes. If I was active during those 7,700 years and don't remember it, then something altered my memory. That is not comforting to think about. I need to investigate without drawing attention."
"And telling the others would draw attention."
"Yes."
She folded her arms again.
"You're carrying this alone."
"I've carried worse."
Her holographic form flickered sharply for a moment, which was almost like a digital sigh.
"You're insufferably composed."
"I prefer the word disciplined."
"Before you go play ceremonial observer, I suggest something. Shapeshift."
"Why?"
She stared at him as if the answer were obvious.
"You are Vastarael Richinaria, an anomaly who technically does not belong in this Epoch Cycle. If you appear publicly, the elves will see you."
"And?"
"She is pregnant."
That silenced him.
"And?"
"You will cause variables. Your presence would shift attention. Elyonari is conducting sacred rites. This ceremony is about her people, not you."
He exhaled through his nose.
"Fair."
"You can shapeshift into a standard elf template. No one questions a visiting elf. They can just see you as a Mintheris member. I'm joining too."
"You said you were staying low."
"I am staying low."
"And you?"
"I remain invisible."
"Completely?"
"Unless you want company."
He gave her a look. She raised both hands.
"Fine. I'll be a silent, undetectable, morally superior digital ghost."
He almost laughed.
"Alright."
His form shimmered.
The bone structure adjusted. His hair lightened slightly. His arms dissolved into a projection overlay that resembled natural elven limbs. Within seconds, Vastarael was no longer visibly Vastarael. He looked like a tall, mature elf with sharp features and a refined posture.
Phaenora circled him once.
"Still unfairly attractive."
He ignored her.
"For now, I observe and investigate later. Oh, and I get to admire Elyonari in full High Priestess mode."
Phaenora's form began to flicker.
"I'll monitor environmental shifts. If EPOCH attempts to intervene, I'll detect it."
"Good."
"And Darling?"
He paused near the door.
"Yes?"
"Be careful. And don't sacrifice yourself in any way possible. I'm doing everything I can to prevent EPOCH from detecting us so don't do anything stupid."
He rested his hand lightly on the door handle.
"I will. No sacrifices today."
And with that, the disguised monarch, anomaly outside the cycle stepped out to witness the High Priestess of Mintheris lead her people through a three day baby shower ritual.