Brightly inundate light of the Illius bathed the whole training grounds of the Radiant Keep as the hovering fortress slowly rotated it in place on the high noon of the 26th of Mhorombar, the closing season of the year.

In the wide and white marble ground's north western corner Aurelithae stood patiently, her posture straightened, her fingers curled back and forth, emitting soft cracks while her naked feet graced the soft, blindingly white marble floor of the elevated platform. Facing her a strange figure of liquid substance in the vague shape of a tall aevhe with little to few features except for the sharply drawn eyes, a chiseled, slim nose and the ears which spread to west and east.

“Ready?” At the silken voice of Prisceirith, she tensed up and her mind started racing.

Her answer came in the form of her fixated head tilting up and down in a short series of nods. Then transparent, hexagonal shaped arkhaine objects thinner than her soft, silken garbs of vibrant azure and mauve shades appeared around her tall body as sharp, liquid spears braced against them and exploded with a sound similar to rocks thrown high up into a river.

In the next moment, the golem conjured by Prisceirith trampled toward her, its arms twisted softly until they resembled a large shield and a spear. The floor cracked then repaired itself with the same speed as the golem leapt high in the air and from its chest, spheres which quickly froze bombarded the arkhaine shield surrounding Aurelithae.

As the Golem approached her from the sky, her eyes diverted for only a short moment then when it reached down, its hardened spear arm planted into the ground where Aurelithae stood moments ago. Spheres of swirling flames of radiant golden breached against its back, white smoke and steam with a tint of golden rose where the spheres exploded yet little damaged appeared on the Golem’s body that swiftly turned around in a graceful, small leap.

It walked slowly towards Aurelithae, shield held over its upper body and on its featureless surface, several myriads of needles protruded and interjected the incoming spheres of golden flames. She raised her left foot and mildly slammed against the marble floor which shook as earthly and azure colored energies spread like a drop impacting the surface of a lake.

The Golem’s form wobbled strangely while a perfectly round marble plateau elevated high right under its feet. Aurelithae held out her hands – palms facing the sky – and swung them upwards in a graceful gesture while her voluminous ashen red hair tousled all over as the wind picked up and with a mind of its own, sent the Golem even higher.

Her right hand with palm stretched out, finger locked together stared at the falling Golem that flailed around like a confused children thrown overly high. She felt the heat condense itself, first gently licking her hand before turning into a scorching pain as the golden flames formed out of nothingness and took the shape of a dragon’s head which flew towards the Golem, chuckling silently all through the way.

The Golem evaporated in the jagged, swirling confines of the jaw and not long after that, the laughing dragon head exploded violently and fell like the fallen particles of the Illius. Aurelithae’s rosy lips trembled as she wrestled with the ecstatic sensation which tickled her whole being while pride filled the moment she was showered in the hailstorm of claps.

Surrounding the training platform – besides Priscairith – seven maidens of exceptional beauty clad in elaborate, silver segmented plate dresses of a deep silvery shade, with an angularly oval neck from which their gleaming, smooth tunics shaded in the same hues as their hair, rose up to their finely drawn jawlines, standing with the same discipline they showed while watching the bout between their sworn Liege and her mindless opponent.

“Well done Your Majesty! Soon you shall be able to take down one with even less steps.” A proud smile adorned Prisceirith carefully contoured visage adorned with perfectly aligned eyes, nose and thin, gleaming rouge lips. Then she clapped once more and a table set with a steaming pot and two goblets appeared.

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Aurelithae bowed respectfully as she voiced her gratitude to her teacher and then gracefully hurried to the table and waited as the pot rose to the air and poured its own contents into the goblets.

Her matured, smooth skinned hands touched the surface ornated with nonagonal shape with a curled up featureless divine child in its center. The golden corners beset with deep engravings grazed her soft lips as small amount of the bitter, deep aquamarine liquid marched into her mouth and down her throat. The liquid calmed her raging arkhaine points crying out for more, tenderly wrapped around her anima veins and soothed their sizzling rage.

A sigh escaped her and once more her thoughts could focus on things other than the ceaseless desire to force her will upon the world. As she stared at Prisceirith, the teacher noticed the mild anxiety within her student and asked in a gentle, motherly tone.

Aurelithae diverted her attention towards the north and pondered to stall with a lie or to finally tell about her dreams to other than Akaerith, the one who was always caressed her sweating head when she grew too bold and cast magic from east to west. Who was there when she cried for her mother who left the world when she gave life for the umpteenth time.

She first started by telling Prisceirith about the first strange dream in which she met with the meek, shy little boy Sigiwaer. A boy she knew immediately from his clothes belonged to the lower class and from the thickness and the disheveled fur on the collars and cuffs deducted he was from the North. Though she left out of her own fear manifesting as she gazed into his single eye made from the pure darkness of the empty night sky.

Hearing the description, Prisceirith nodded silently as she came to the conclusion while also pondered on whether this was the work of the Weaver of Fates or the Almodo Himself yet in both cases the reason alluded her, or at least the closest answer lied at the threat that rested in the belly of Dhaugruz, bidding his time.

Continuing on, Aurelithae told her as time went on, she learned the boy had a natural gift of seeing the unseen floating in the world which allows them to form spells into reality, and that their shared dream changed from a haunting forest of ethereal trees into a historical event where Terrianis and Augermil scored a victory against the savages of Vhalleryon.

For a short moment, she stopped pondering once more whether to lie or to tell the truth but, in the end, she realized there was no way to tell her how she inquired about the unfamiliar aspect of maghia two months ago. Prisceiriths’ eyes opened wide as she heard the Umvraoth manifesting and attacking none other than Aurelithae herself.

Aurelithae watched and waited for reprimanding, for not telling either her or Terrianis first about these dreams but in the end Prisceirith remained silent waiting for the words that will explain what happened, and what she expected led to the question about the unfamiliar aspect of maghia.

And they did come with hesitation as Aurelithae recalled that moment in the land of Oneiron, remembered that otherworldly coldness which deprived all sensation, and which planted a sinister calmness onto Sigiwaer’s innocent face. Even for a short moment, she heard the wind carry the warped, melodic scream of the Umvraoth as its whole being was seemingly torn apart bit by bit.

“Should I speak of the dreams to Father?” At the end, she turned her diverted attention onto Prisceirith who said the words she fully expected yet knew not why she did not act upon them by herself years ago.

“I am no mother of yours, or no motherly attendant – but I do wonder why would you ask that of me my dear student.” Hearing those words hurt so much that the remnants of her previous pride vaporized within the blink of an eye.

“I would like to say because I see you in the same light as Akaerith, as someone I could rely on present and the day, I ascend Father’s place. Maybe my question should have been directed differently and at Brother Anguraa.” She looked at herself like she was some fool for withholding such an information for a few years, yet she also felt as if a spell lifted from her mind and she began to thought what may have been the intent of those who connected her and Sigiwaer.

Her body shivered mildly as the thought of maybe it was for a reason, she now dreamt of her Father’s past she knew little of, and what she knew were from the text of strangers. What if the Weaver of Fates or the Almodo himself distrusted her family, her father? What if they desired the two to be finding their path without the touch of the Empire and its ruling family? These thoughts circled, rotated within her mind as she was taking little sips from her goblet which could not soothe her mind.

Yet even amidst these treacherous thoughts, she came to the conclusion. “Yes, I will inform Father by the end of this day.” To which Prisceirith nodded her head like a disciplined dog.