The Royal Sanctum.
The heavy doors boomed shut behind Viora and sealed the world away.
The silence in the Royal Sanctum was absolute. It was heavy enough to crush the breath from a person's lungs. The air here didn't just smell of ozone or flowers. It smelled of ancient, unrefined power. It was the scent of a thunderstorm trapped in a bottle.
Viora took a step forward. Her boots made no sound on the floor. It was not stone or crystal, but a seamless expanse of polished obsidian that reflected the galaxy of star-charts drifting lazily across the domed ceiling. It felt as though she were walking on the void itself.
At the far end of the chamber, seated upon a throne carved from a single piece of white weirwood and lined with silver silk, sat the Matriarch Sovereign.
Queen Athena Lumina.
