As Theana departed with the people of Epsos, her carriage gleamed beneath a coat of pearl-white paint, drawn by horses as ethereal as the people of Graiten themselves.
Behind her followed a long procession. Carriages and carts laden with magis, provisions, and supplies for the journey ahead.
High above in the sky, Rokhan rode upon his shadow wyvern, trailing their procession in silence.
Until he stopped.
Hovering in the vast expanse, he did nothing but watch.
One by one, the carriages dwindled into specks against the horizon…until they vanished from sight.
A strange sadness washed over him.
It came without warning—heavy, unfamiliar. He did not understand it, only that it lingered as a dull ache within his chest.
Rokhan exhaled softly and turned away as duty called.
As High General of his nation, he had responsibilities to uphold and among them, to ensure the safe coronation of Graitan's new chancellor.
A young white magis chosen by Theana.
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The Emperor's return to Epsos was met with celebration. In the capital of Rord people rejoiced.
Not extravagantly as Epsos was still a struggling empire, but heartfelt. The people rejoiced, for their soldiers had returned unharmed.
And with them came wonders.
Elegant carriages. Unfamiliar horses. And people… who seemed not entirely of this world.
They were beautiful. Yet undeniably strange.
Children were the first to approach those so called 'odd' creatures.
The women earthen magis knelt among them, cradling soft rabbits and letting the little ones pet their gentle fur. Nearby, white magis scattered shimmering dust into the air—golden butterflies bursting forth, fluttering in radiant swarms.
Laughter filled the streets.
The people of Graiten adored children. To them, they are some innocent and some mischievous. Yet they were also the future. They believed children must be raised with care and intention, nurtured and guided, so that the very best within them could one day emerge.
And so, they showed kindness—not power.
The other adults watched. At first, wary.
But as they saw their children laugh freely among these otherworldly beings, their fear began to fade. Guarded hearts slowly opened.
The procession continued until it reached the central stage of the Rord, where the Emperor was to address his people.
A great crowd had gathered—eager to listen and even more eager to witness the people of Graitan up close.
The Emperor stepped forward, his voice echoing across the garden.
"Hear me, my subjects!"
A pause—measured, deliberate.
"Our empire shall now prosper. For I have brought with me healers, farmers, scholars—everything needed to elevate our great nation!"
He continued at length, praising his own foresight, his "grand design," his brilliance.
The people of Epsos listened. Some believed. Most… did not.
They knew their Emperor well enough. Still, they humored him.
Their attention, instead, drifted elsewhere.
To her.
A woman standing quietly behind him, her face hidden beneath a white veil.
Who was she?
The Emperor went on—speaking of schools to be built, of prosperity to come, of strengthened defenses and a future reborn.
"And now," he declared, "I present to you… my royal advisor."
Theana stepped forward. Slowly, she lifted her veil.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
She was… breathtaking.
Almost inhuman in her beauty.
For a moment, silence reigned. Then—cheers erupted.
Because beyond her appearance, they felt it.
A presence. A quiet assurance. Perhaps… they truly were in capable hands.
And perhaps… their future would be brighter.
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Without delay, the magis began their work.
The Dark Magis moved first—swift and unforgiving. They audited the noble houses, ensuring territories were governed justly and taxes were not abused. Those who resisted or were found guilty of corruption were executed without hesitation, their titles stripped and left vacant—soon to be replaced by magis rule.
The Charoite Magis turned their attention to knowledge. Plans were laid for institutions where magis and knights would train side by side. Students would study disciplines ranging from magic and machinery to medicine—while honing their combat skills together.
The Earthen Magis revitalized the land itself. With their magic, the soil was restored—rich, fertile, and resilient. Crops would grow with ease, season after season. They guided farmers in animal care, even teaching them how rabbits could serve as a sustainable source of food during harsher times.
New vegetables were introduced. New cycles of harvest established.
For the first time in years, the land felt alive again.
The Water Magis faced the greatest burden.
The empire's water sources were heavily polluted—tainted with fecal matter, waste and decay.
Many of them hesitated. Some even refused.
But Theana intervened. Patiently, she spoke to them—reminding them of the importance of their role, of how water was the lifeblood of all things. She did not command.
She persuaded.
In the end, they agreed.
Not for the empire. But for her.
Even so… their view of the non-magis people remained unchanged. To them, these people were careless and unrefined—capable of defiling something as sacred as water without a second thought.
Only two white magis had followed Theana. A couple, along with their young child. The woman white magis is Theanas sister and the boy was her nephew.
They worked closely with the chancellor, helping to open trade routes and secure diplomatic ties with neighboring nations. They advanced the empire's medical knowledge and laid plans to establish clinics across the land—even in the most remote regions.
Because healing should never belong only to the wealthy alone.
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Within a year, the empire had become a central hub of economic growth.
People flocked to its lands, drawn by the promise of stability and prosperity. The empire was thriving, orderly, flourishing, and well-governed.
And at its center stood the Emperor, tall and proud, basking in what he believed to be the fruits of his own brilliance.
But beneath that prosperity… something was wrong. The people of Graitan began to grow uneasy.
They saw it. Their chancellor was being mistreated.
Bruises marred her once flawless skin, faint at first—but increasing, day by day.
Rumors spread in hushed whispers.
They said she was often summoned to the Emperor's chambers… not as an advisor, but as a witness.
A silent observer to his indulgences in sexual intercourse. With multiple women from his harem.
In his mind, he dared not touch her—fearful that defiling a white magis would strip her of her power.
And so, he found other ways. Crueler ways.
He vented his anger upon her through violence and forced her to stand witness to his depravity, believing that even this would taint her purity. How it satisfies Lennix to have someone once so graceful, so pure to be beneath him.
One year became two.
Two became ten.
The magis people lived longer than ordinary humans. But even so… she was fading.
The empire continued to flourish, yet their beloved white magis grew weaker with each passing day.
She was made to heal endlessly—tending to the Emperor and his people, even for the smallest ailments. Rest became a luxury she no longer knew.
Sleep escaped her. Peace abandoned her. Still… she endured.
Her people looked to her as their pillar. And so, she hid her suffering beneath her veil.
But the magis people were not blind. They saw yet they are unable to say anything.