The Hall of First Light.
The nave stretched beneath soaring ribbed vaults, every arch alive with gilded bosses that caught and held the morning radiance like captured stars.
Frescoes swept across the ceiling in sweeping cycles—The Birth of Dawn, The First King of Radiance, The War of Light and Darkness—each figure painted with such lifelike depth that the heavens themselves seemed to have cracked open overhead, spilling their ancient secrets into the mortal realm below.
Black-gold marble colonnades marched in perfect twin rows, each pillar veined with molten gold that shimmered and shifted beneath the light. The stone felt alive, as if the deepest night had been folded, compressed, and gilded until it reflected every spark of brilliance back tenfold.
Sunburst chandeliers hung in silent orbit above, geometric emblems of pure Radiance—light itself forged into order and suspended in air. Prismatic glass high in the clerestory caught the incoming rays and shattered them into dancing spectrums that converged on the central aisle, making the long carpet shimmer and ripple as though dawn had been given physical form and set free to move across the floor.
This was the place where coronations were sealed with solemn vows, where unbreakable oaths were spoken before the Dawnfire, and where dawn tribunals delivered judgments that could reshape entire bloodlines in a single morning.
Auriel walked through its unmatched beauty, boots ringing softly against the radiant floor. With each step the stone beneath her glowed brighter, Essence rising like a living meridian that tested truth and worthiness.
The light grew warmer around the innocent and dulled to cold ash around the guilty or false. She felt its gentle pressure against her skin, familiar yet always slightly humbling.
A lone figure waited at the far end of the hall. Slow falls of radiant dust trickled around him, colouring the very air with shifting motes of gold.
He stood like a fresco brought to breathing life—the entire history of the Dawn made flesh and will.
Auriel approached with steady strides and dropped into a deep, respectful bow.
"Father."
Eosander took a long moment, eyes tracing the soaring beauty of the hall as if seeing it for the first time. Then he turned slowly toward her.
He towered in masterworked starforged plate, every surface chased with intricate sunbursts, constellations, and flowing script that seemed to move when the light struck it just right. A cloak of deep blue and crimson court-silk spilled from his shoulders, its edges trimmed in living gold thread. Large angelic wings rested folded against his back, each pinion catching stray beams and scattering them into quiet motes that vanished before they reached the floor.
His eyes locked onto her—liquid Vitalis swirling within their depths. The moment his full attention settled, the entire hall grew heavier, the air denser, as though Luminary itself leaned in closer to hear what its chosen vessel would say.
"Auriel." His voice rolled out calm and measured. He turned halfway back toward the light. "The Drake-Titan?"
She shifted her weight, embarrassment and guilt threading hot through her chest.
"I failed in my duty, Father… More important matters required my attention as Supreme Commander."
The words tasted ironic the instant they left her mouth—she had only just heard almost the same excuse from another Commander not too long ago.
"What could possibly be more important than duty, my Daughter?"
"On the northern frontier… people I knew were in danger."
He glanced toward her, the air and the Luminary within shifted along his gaze.
"Eryndor was made Commander there. You were not." The reply came with the same quiet calmness that somehow carried more weight than any shout.
"Even so, Father. I cannot simply look away when—"
The air in the hall suddenly thickened, pressing against her ribs like an invisible hand. Her next breath came shallow and tight.
"Eryndor has his duty," Eosander said, glancing at her again. "You have yours. And, so do I. That is the oath we all swore to our people."
Auriel turned her face slightly aside, eyes breaking contact in a clear flash of stubborn defiance.
A soft exhale left her father, and the suffocating pressure eased by a fraction.
"You are as stubborn as your mother."
The warmth that followed those words wrapped around her like sunlight after storm, melting some of the tension in her shoulders.
"Never in my life had I met such a ferocious woman," he continued, voice softening with memory. "She was my proudest hurdle and my most solemn duty… until you came along."
That warmth twisted into something sour in Auriel's gut—guilt heavier than when she had first stepped into the hall.
"I will call upon the Master of Drakes to track the Drake-Titan," Eosander went on, tone shifting back to command. "But for now I require you to fulfil another duty."
Auriel lifted her gaze again. "What duty, Father?"
He turned fully to face her. "To the south-west lies the town of Brisden. In the forests south of it hides an old ruin temple. Destroy it."
"Such a vague task, Father? A single Knight of Dawn could manage that—even three Radiant Knights would finish it in a day." Confusion creased her brow.
His eyes narrowed. The earlier warmth vanished instantly, replaced by the same suffocating aura that pressed the breath from her lungs.
"That temple is known to only a handful of us. It was a relic I kept standing as a monument to an old ally. Now someone has breached its seals. It bleeds disturbance—the chaos echoes through the surrounding Essence. If left unchecked it will tear open, creating a rift large enough to devour half the region."
Auriel stared at him, shock widening her eyes at the scale of the threat.
"Find the temple," he ordered, voice sharp. "Destroy it."
She took a steadying breath, then answered with quiet resolve. "I accept this duty, Father. I will leave at once to safeguard our people."
He gave a single, slow, confirming nod.
Auriel bowed once more and turned to leave, boots echoing through the vast space.
But before she reached the grand doors, his voice stopped her.
"And Auriel."
The hall's light dimmed as though a veil had been drawn across the sun. Warmth itself seemed afraid to touch them.
"If you find the one responsible… kill them."
Her eyes narrowed with grim understanding.
"Yes, Father."
…
Warmth flooded back into the hall.
Eosander remained exactly where he stood, gaze fixed on one particular mural. A woman with elegantly pointed ears smiled out from a heavenly garden, every petal and leaf woven from radiant Essence so lifelike it almost seemed to breathe.
"Lyrellia…" he whispered, voice cracking on the name. "If only you could see your daughter. You would not believe how much she takes after you."
He drew a slow, heavy breath.
"Even though she may not carry the brilliant Seraphel semblance you held… your spirit burns through her stronger than any crown or blade ever could."
"You were meant to be the one to guide her—both woman and warrior." His wings shifted with quiet sorrow. "I am afraid, my love… I am no good at this."
The sound of metal footsteps echoed away down the corridor, growing fainter.
The mural woman's smile seemed to shimmer brighter for a moment, as if the woven Essence itself answered him.
—— ❖ —— —— ❖ —— —— ❖ ——
Arion sat on his crudely lashed-together chair, the Heat Coil beneath the propped slab of stone humming with steady warmth. Fat sizzled and popped as the second 'Chicken' he had hunted turned golden above the flame. Now with Recall, the fight had been almost laughably easy—a spell or two here, a wack or two there, and the oversized bird had gone down without much drama.
He tore off a steaming leg and took a huge bite, juices running down his chin.
The afternoon sun filtered through the canopy, birds called lazily overhead, and for once everything felt… peaceful.
Once the last bone was picked clean he leaned back, belly full and eyelids growing heavy.
"I think it's time for a nap," he muttered, already nodding off with a satisfied grin.
A thin trail of white smoke curled upward from the dying coals, drifting lazily into the breeze.
…
High above the forest, Auriel hovered in the open air, staring down at the cluster of ruined stone half-hidden by black canopies. She could have sworn she caught the faintest whiff of roasted meat on the wind.
Father was right—the Essence here feels… wrong. Chaotic. Strong enough to be sensed for miles. Even messing with my sense of smell…
She wiped a stray drop of drool from the corner of her mouth, annoyed at herself.
Maintaining hover took real effort this time. The local Essence pulsed irregularly, layers of space folding and overlapping like torn fabric that could not decide its own shape. It fought against her control, making every small adjustment feel like wrestling a living current.
This relic must fall, she thought, jaw tightening.
Only then will this land return to order.
She summoned Astralis Fragmentum with a flick of her wrist. The starforged blade materialised beside her, spinning slowly in the air. Golden light danced along its edge as she channelled Vitalis into the lustrous yellow shard. The weapon ignited with pure starlight, humming with restrained power.
"Luminary Art—Astralis Embrace."
The blade shot downward like a falling star. It tore through the chaotic space, air shrieking aside, light itself bending around its path. For one instant it met the temple's field—a flash of resistance—then punched straight through stone with a thunderous crack.
The air for a full mile around suddenly rushed inward toward the impact point, sucked into a perfect sphere of Equilibrium.
Sound vanished. Pressure folded in on itself.
Then it unfolded.
DOOM!
Stone vaporised in a white-hot flash. Superheated air boiled outward in a roaring shockwave. Ancient trees snapped like twigs and disappeared into the expanding ring of destruction.
The small camp some distance away—chair, fire pit, roasting slab, everything—vanished in the pressure wave.
Auriel had underestimated the scale. The backlash slammed into her like a giant fist, hurling her through the sky in a wild tumble. She flipped once, then twice as she fought for control.
She finally stabilised, halting to a controlled hover.
When the pressure finally normalised and the dust began to settle, a vast gaping crater yawned where the temple had stood. Nothing remained but glassed earth and drifting ash.
She descended slowly, boots touching the crater floor with a soft crunch. Astralis Fragmentum bit deep into the scorched ground beside her, the metal still glowing cherry-red and steaming from the immense heat.
She walked forward a few steps, scanning the devastation, then retrieved the blade with a sharp tug. Sealing it back into its yellow shard.
The chaotic pulse in the surrounding Essence was already smoothing out, stabilising.
Once she had confirmed the surrounding Essence was stabilising, she rose back into the sky.
But as she climbed higher, a faint white smoke trail caught her eye, drifting lazily from beyond the forests of the blast zone.
A person? A traveller… or maybe a Freeblade?
Before curiosity could pull her down, a different sensation prickled across her skin—a cold, ancient stare crawling out from the dead black canopies of the forest.
She locked eyes with whatever watched her.
Vile, ancient thing. You dare set your sights on me?
Without hesitation Auriel surged forward, she arrowed straight toward the source of that hateful gaze.