Aurelithae sat completely still while the combined warmth and luminous light of the Illius filtered through the window’s enchanted glass. One aevhen servant carefully combed her silken hair in a careful pace while another prepared her dress of myriad different hues constantly shifting dependent on how and where the light fell onto it.

“Is everything alright My Lady?” Akaerith asked as she saw through the calm guise.

For a short moment a pensive expression settled onto her alluring face adorned with prismatic scales. She let out a long and silent sigh before she spoke. “I feel a little anxious.”

“There is nothing to be anxious about My Lady. The ceremony will be over before you could even recount the name of the One and the Eight.” Hearing those words, Aurelithae’s glistening lips curled up into a smile and a soft chuckle escaped her. Yet the anxiousness lingered in her heart.

It has been a decade since she first wandered down to the city and took the silent oath of the New Dawn even though she was still unsure what she wished to gain from these little tours. And the thought of her Father knowing about this floated in her mind like a dark cloud shrouding the radiance of reason for him allowing. Even the dreams of his past had to yield an answer to this question.

One thing was sura as always with him. If she desired to have an answer, she had to sought it by herself be it through reality or through the visions of the past manifesting in the lands of Oneiron. For now all that mattered was to play her part of a calm princess in front of the top brass of the Empire gathering into the blessed house of the One and the Eight. A daunting task but not one impossible as long as Albron stood near her.

“Excuse me My Lady. Could you tilt it back once more?” For a moment she felt awkward as the servant doing her hair spoke to her in her soft, husky voice. Without saying a word she complied and focused on the sky, still dark over the capital, while further away the Illius started to paint it into a collection of red, orange and mauve as the day slowly began.

**

The streets of Luth-Astaril were picturesque during the early hours of the day as many artistic visitors tended to comment on it. The warm, luminous lights of the dawn beautifully painted the alabaster structures of sharp, arithmetic buildings while the shadows that nestled between them possessed only a tint. This was even more true during the early seasons of the year when on rare occasions a soft mist appeared in the valley, hiding the less refined lower districts of the capital.

It was also the favored hour of Augermil who watched the light of the Ilius devour the darkness slowly as the Dawnfather ordered it eons ago. The imposing draevhe was already clad in his golden armor comprised of multiple angularly contoured, segmented plates decorated with carefully sculpted draconic motifs that included the head of a feathered dragon that spew flames towards his abdomen. Under it soft, matte linen clothing wrapped gently around his muscle bound body adorned with thousands of scars and small scales of crimson.

“I see sleep avoided you once more. Are you excited to see her?” Augermil turned around to the sound of his old friend’s deep, melodious voice and offered the deep ebony toned man of the Yhanubj tribe a gracious, honest smile.

Nawfal Salama was a man beyond his prime blessed with a face many envied through his life that gained a draconic majesty thanks to his decade long service to the Empire. Eyes with sharp contours, turned into flaming pearls with a slit at the center. A prominent forehead with sharp outlines converging towards the center where the chiseled nose of his started. A lush dark beard of tufts of spiky hair with golden scales adorning his narrowed chin with two spikes diverging from each other.

“Haven’t seen her in decades. Just the thought pierces my heart with fear not unlike the spear of those undying legionnariir.” His deep voice echoed within the small room lit by the tender light of the dawn. Sorrow in his eyes as he recalled the warming smile of the innocent little princess that once was Aurelithae.

“Well as once a wise old friend said, if fear pierces your heart just leap above it or something” Nawfal said as his segmented epaulets – each smaller than the other starting from the top piece – clanked against the scarlet frame of the window that continued on towards the ceiling where it turned into elaborate swirls and circles with ancient aevhen runes within them.

Augermil turned at him with one brow of his raised questioningly. “You mean I should speak with her after the ceremony?” Nawfal answered silently, with a simple and calm bow of his head as he crossed his arms and clad his face in a prideful expression.

“Maybe. But we have a duty to fulfill today. Greeting and speaking can wait another day or year.” Augermil said as he met his friend’s gaze. Their attention turned towards the streets once more as people flocked into groups and headed towards the temple. An eerie sight as the thickly mist rose from the valley and invaded the streets slowly while the rays of the Illius shone through it.

“But for now focus on the peace of today.” He added as the two grabbed their swords and with watchful eyes, monitored the various folks of the capital dressed in their finest clothing.

**

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Such a peaceful day it is.” Mirayroth noted softly as he stood at the edge of the building overlooking the blessed house of the One and the Eight. The wind gently blew his exotic eastern robes while the mask over his alabaster face kept it warm while also amplified his vision. So much so that he could easily make out his own agents within the crowd converging at the large square in front of the temple.

A square that on the calmer days was lacking in presence except a few pious folk who wished to offer prayers to the Deossos in return for their blessings. Blacksmiths asked the Forge Mother for strength to strike appropriately or for focus to maintain the necessary heat in their forges. Scholars and students of the academies asked Septurrion to freshen them, clear their mind of unnecessary thoughts. Artists, sculptors and architects prayed for the spark of creativity at the altar of the Harmonic Artiste and so on so forth.

Naghig stood in silence behind him with his hulking arms crossed and, in his impatience, he tapped his feet against the flat roof of the house. “Would have been much more peaceful in the warm embrace of an inn. Do we really need to be here?” He asked no longer able to contain his unrest.

“Not necessary. But I wish to witness their reaction first hand rather than hearing about it. Easier to plan ahead that way you see.” He said as his veiled head slightly tilted towards Naghig who towered over on his left.

“I don’t think it makes that much difference from hearing things unfolding from the mouths of others. You just want to see things unfold yourself don’t you?” Picking up on his mild lie, Naghig sighed as he sat beside Mirayroth at the edge and dangled his legs hundreds of meters above the crowd that grew in density.

“That you are not wrong about but I am also interested in the Elhyrissiar himself. Ever since my childhood, I was interested in the possibilities of maghia, and what better way to witness parts of these possibilities than witnessing the apex in action.” Mirayroth added as he noticed the movement of cloaked figures entering the Tower of Fate, the temple closest to them and the home of Septurrion’s clergy.

“And here I thought that possibility was quenched ages ago. I have no doubts you shall witness less than on that day.” As he said that he held his pale palm out into which amidst a dark light a stone manifested which then began to take the shape of a pale draevhen maiden then not long before it lost its shape and he threw it across the chasm hitting one of the geometrical windows.

“Honestly, I know that too. But curiosity still won me over.” Mirayroth tore a piece out from the roof beneath and entered into a throwing contest as the urge overcame him witnessing Naghig miss the window a little.

“Well then let us hope they can put up a worthy final fight.” Naghig said a bit frustrated as he witnessed Mirayroth hitting the window straight at its center, scaring the single cloaked figure that just slit the throat of a temple guard. “At least their senses are worthy of assassins.” He said chuckling childishly behind his mask as the hooded figure continued their advance down towards the main hall.

**

Aurelithae stood in front of the Greidor Gate, an oval structure proudly standing in its convex archly form at the center of the room, bathing in the filtered light which entered from all side in vastly different shades. Behind her, the servants girl who attended to every little need of hers stood silently, while on her right her dear father towered over her in all his gleaming glory with an affable smile on his gleaming lips. Not a word needed to leave them to calm her down, then the two’s gazes were drawn onto the Greidor Gate’s arch.

Glowing glyphs painted themselves one by one, each stroke carefully and slowly appeared and with a gentle roar, a small standing lake of thin arkhaine energies filled the empty space within. The two and their entourage slowly made their way towards it and Terrianis stepped through with grace.

Aurelithae stood, gazing onto the pristine surface that lit her pale, soft face covered in elaborate swirls of prismatic scales. Her equally mesmerizing slit eyes gleamed even stronger in the luster of the portal, and her chest puffed out not long before she forced her legs to move forward.

A warm, wet sensation enveloped her body, seeped into her soul cuddling even while the sensation of weightless dive into the unknown, during which the concept of her feet touching ground became a distant memory, concept. Yet this freedom only lasted no more than a blink of an eye, a beat of her heart as she mildly tumbled as she arrived behind her father.

There, in the small underground hall which spread far and wide compared to the Greidor Gate’s room in the Radiant Keep, her gaze moved onto faces familiar and distant conversing before their glinting draconic eyes shifted onto them and their relaxed attitude stiffened into deep bows.

Amongst the familiar, she recognized her elder brothers Albron and Anguraa whom both rushed towards them before they kneeled down onto the contrasting mosaic floor. Their long hairs gracefully cascaded towards, brushing it with great care akin to the method of artists. Their exquisite togas draped finely, gleaming golden dragons looped around their wrists, the tails slithered, looped around their arms.

And amongst the unfamiliar, she glimpsed a hulking kin of hers with completely sheared head exposing deep scars which instead of ruined his image, it complimented his menacing looks while the gaudy mauve toga on his slender, muscle-bound body fitted him not.

Another, whom appeared younger stood beside him with a leisurely attitude, graceful golden eyes which gleamed with drunkenness while his tousled hair fell onto his weak shoulders encased in iridescent, flamboyant garments with an equally lavish metallic neck piece resting on his shoulders beset with richly vibrant gems and a collar twisting around his neck in segmented layers.

The rest, she paid not much attention to, instead she followed after her dear father with Albron walking beside her after they inaudibly greeted each other with warm smiles. “Father! Sister!” The door to the ceremony hall opened, revealing the divinely enchanting form of Rhenathorhia who greeted them with a wide curve across his visage.

It has been a few decades now since she last saw him, and she found his ethereal beauty both calming and eerie at the same time. As much as she tried, she could not take her eyes off of her older brother until he turned his attention to Albron, then their father. “Shall we begin?” He bowed his head, and in that moment, she could see the light following his triangular heads’ movement showing its devotion.

As she looked past at the large crowd that condensed to the front, her heart started beating even faster until a calmness spread through her when Albron placed his massive hand over her shoulder. The two headed inside side by side as she steeled her nerves, muttering in her head to endure.