The Hall of First Light.
The nave expanded beneath ribbed and traceried vaults, every arch alive with gilded bosses that caught the radiance of the morning light.
Frescoes unfurled across the ceiling in vast iconographic cycles—The Birth of Dawn, The First King of Radiance, The War of Light and Darkness—their figures painted in illusionistic depth as if the heavens themselves had opened above.
Black-gold marble colonnades rose in twin rows, each pillar veined with molten gold that shimmered beneath the light. The stone wasn't mere marble—it was as if the night had been captured, compressed and gilded, polished to a mirror sheen.
Sunburst chandeliers hung in solemn orbit, emblems of Radiance itself—light forged into geometry, order suspended in air.
Prismatic glass in the clerestory caught the morning rays and split them into radiant spectrums. The light converged on the aisle below, making the carpet shimmer as if set alight by drifting aureoles—dawn given motion.
This was where coronations were held, oaths were sworn and dawn tribunals convened.
Auriel walked through its unmatched beauty. The floor radiated with each step, an essence made meridian; stepping into the sun-lit circle tested truth and worthiness but dulled with the guilty and fakery.
A figure stood at the far end. A slow fall of radiant dust trickled around him, colouring the air.
He was far from a mere mortal—like a fresco given life. The history of dawn itself made shape.
Auriel approached the living mural and bowed.
"Father."
Her Father took a moment, admiring the hall's beauty, and then slowly turned to her.
He stood towering in masterworked starforged plate; surfaces chased in sunbursts, constellations, and script. A cloak of deep blue and red court-silk fell from his shoulders, its edges rimmed in gold. Large Angelic wings folded against his back; pinions caught the light and scattered quiet motes that vanished before they fell.
His eyes fixed onto her form, liquid Vitalis pooled within. As soon as he focused on her, a soft hush fell and the room felt denser, as if Luminary itself leaned closer to him.
"Auriel." He said, and turned back. "The Drake-Titan?"
She squirmed; a rush of embarrassment and guilt threaded through her.
"I failed in my duty, Father... More important matters required my attention, as Supreme Commander."
As soon as they were said, the words felt ironic in her mind, as if she had only recently heard something similar spoken to her.
"What was more important than duty, my Daughter?"
"On the Northern Frontier, people I knew were in danger."
"Eryndor was made Commander. You were not." He said with quiet calmness.
"Even so, Father. I cannot look away when—"
The room suddenly became denser.
She felt overwhelmed as her breath became small.
"Eryndor has his duty. You have your own. And so do I." He glanced at her.
"That is our oath to our people."
Auriel turned slightly, her eyes breaking off him, a clear defiance made of stubbornness.
A slight exhale left him as the room followed.
"You are as stubborn as your Mother."
Auriel's stubbornness faded as her Father's Aura felt warmer than before.
"Never in my life had I met such a ferocious woman. She was my proudest hurdle and most solemn duty. Until you came along."
Her warmth turned slightly sour as she felt more guilt than when she first walked in.
"I will call upon the Master of Drakes to track the Drake-Titan down," he continued. "But for now, I require you to fulfill another duty."
Auriel looked back at him.
"What duty, Father?"
He turned to face her, "Towards the South-West lies a town called Brisden, in the forests south of it hides an old ruin temple. Destroy it."
"Such a vague duty, Father? This can be done by a Knight of Dawn, even three Radiant Knights could accomplish this." She asked, confused.
His eyes narrowed, the previous warmth vanished, left again with a suffocating Aura.
"That Temple is known to only a few. A relic I kept as a monument to honour an old ally of mine."
His gaze turned towards the sun-lit glass.
"Now someone has breached it. It bleeds with disturbance; echoing through the surrounding Essence. If left unchecked, it will destabilise and rip. An Opening, large enough to devour this land."
She focused intently at him, shocked by this information.
"Find the Temple. Destroy it." He ordered, voice sharp as a blade.
Auriel took a moment, then spoke,
"I accept this duty, Father, I will leave urgently to safeguard our people." She said, earnestly.
With a nod of confirmation from her Father, she bowed and turned to leave.
But before she could leave the Hall, her Father spoke one last time.
"And Auriel."
The hall's light felt cold, like someone drew a veil across the sun. Heat too afraid to fall upon them.
"If you find the one responsible, kill them."
Her eyes narrowed,
"Yes, Father."
…
Warmth of the sun breached into the hall once again.
Eosander still stood there.
He stared at a mural. A woman with pointed ears stood surrounded by a heavenly garden.
Its craft was woven across the wall with radiant Essence, capturing beauty he knew he would never see again.
"Lyrellia…", he paused.
"If only you could see your Daughter. You would not believe how much she takes after you."
His voice softened into memory. "She does bear the Seraphel blood that you carried, but your spirit breathes through her."
He drew a long breath.
"You were meant to be the one to guide her—both woman and warrior. I am afraid, my love, that I am no good at this."
The mural woman's smile seemed to shimmer with woven Essence as the sound of metal steps echoed through the hall.
—— ❖ —— —— ❖ —— —— ❖ ——
Arion sat on his crudely made chair, his Heat Coil spinning beneath a propped up slab of sizzling stone.
He cooked the second chicken that he'd managed to hunt. Now with his new Recall he was more of a match for it, and without too much effort, he had slain his second chicken.
He was enjoying a lovely afternoon meal.
Once done, he was on the verge of a food coma.
"I think it's time for a nap." He said, whilst nodding off.
A slight smoke trail made its way in the breeze, floating skyward.
…
High above, Auriel stood within the air. Looking down at ruined stone.
She could have sworn she caught a whiff of cooked chicken.
Father was right, Essence here feels… chaotic, strong enough to be felt miles.
Even affecting one's smell… she thought, wiping drool from her mouth.
She hovered upon emptiness, but this time it was difficult. She had to focus on the Essence, as if it was a stranger to her.
Essence seemed to pulse irregularly, space here overlapped one another. It couldn't decide what or where it wanted to be.
This relic must fall, so order can return to the land.
She summoned Astralis Fragmentum, the starforged blade.
She let it spin ever so slightly beside her, then started to channel Vitalis into the lustrous Yellow Shard.
The blade suddenly burnt with starlight, and then closed her eyes.
Luminary Art.
"Astralis Embrace."
The blade shot down, tearing through chaotic space, air cut, light bent by its force.
As soon as it met the Temple's field, it stopped for a mere heartbeat, then suddenly crashed through stone.
Air pressure around a mile was sucked into the borders of Equilibrium, then sound evaporated, air compressed, pressure unfolded.
Explosion.
DOOM!
Stone evaporated. Air boiled. Trees vanished. Both camp and chair crumbled under the air pressure.
Auriel underestimated the scale of destruction as she barrelled through the air.
Flipping a few times, she managed to finally come to a halt.
When the pressure normalised and the dust settled, a gaping maw of a crater lay where the Temple once stood.
She made her way down, her feet touched the crater's bottom. Her blade bit into the earth, its metal almost boiling as it steamed with immense heat. She stepped closer, walking over small chunks of stone.
Once she retrieved her weapon's shard, she looked around, knowing nothing survived and the chaotic pulse started stabilising, she made her way back up to the sky.
But as she climbed high, she noticed a faint trail of white smoke.
A person? A traveller or maybe a Freeblade…
But before she could satisfy her curiosity she sensed something. A blood chill stare came from one of the forests—one of dead, black canopies.
So she stared back.
"Vile, ancient thing. You dare set your sights upon me?"
Without hesitation, she surged toward the gaze that dared meet hers.
—— ❖ —— —— ❖ —— —— ❖ ——