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Elhyrissian Chronicles
Prologue I: In Their House He Dreams…

Prologue I: In Their House He Dreams…

15th of Martzea, 1247 of the First Age.

A soft sigh, veiled as a melodious hum, escaped his lips. His slender body was delicately embraced by a robe of ruby red and shimmering gold. The fabric, woven from the finest silks produced in Vhalleryon, possessed an ethereal luster, evocative of the proud Elder Dragons' scales. Intricate patterns, commissioned to honor his family, graced the sleeves and back with exquisite detail. The high collar enveloped the back of his head and gradually descended toward his strong shoulders.

On the bottom, the robe gently brushed against the ground as a soft breeze caressed his magnificent figure standing at the precipice. His form, flawlessly sculpted from alabaster golden marble, stood as a testament to artistry and precision.

Beneath his feet, intricate carvings of aevhen maidens could be seen, gracefully dancing around a central motif depicting a radiant moon that transforms into the sun when night falls.

Beyond the precipice, the grand capital of the Empire stretched as far as the eye could see, a vibrant tapestry of colors built upon the undulating terrain, with the Flaurdrenn River meandering through its heart as it separates the two sides, flowing gracefully toward the sea. Towers, temples, and dwellings on both sides of the river, rising gradually in numbers further up the folk made plateau on the once jagged walls of the mountains, their precise geometrical forms standing out from this elevated vantage point. Bathed in the soft, warm light of the setting sun, they created a picturesque scene before it slipped below the horizon.

"Isn't this magnificent?" He asked in his deep, resonant voice, exuding both grace and openness. His countenance was a testament to ethereal beauty and regal splendor. Each feature had been meticulously sculpted, with sharp lines that seamlessly melded together to create a visage that mesmerized all who gazed upon it. His high cheekbones had been exquisitely chiseled and refined, while his eyes had possessed elongated contours and contained a swirling kaleidoscope of colors within their draconic irises. Above them, arched eyebrows like delicate brushstrokes had lent an air of intrigue, hinting at the wisdom accumulated over countless ages. His nose had been straight and elegant, complemented by softly curved lips that had borne a gentle smile. His complexion had been flawless and fair, radiating a golden glow as if he had been touched by the sun itself.

His long hair cascaded between his nape, gracefully draping over his chest and ending just above his waistline, resembling a cataract of fluid ashes. Its soft texture had conjured the vivid imagery of fine ash left on a field scorched by the ferocious inferno of a red dragon. Each strand of hair had resembled silken tendrils of smoke.

Emerging beneath his flowing hair, at his temples, was his crown. Its surface had been a captivating fusion of sleek feathered scales of the Heavenly House, forming a harmonious union that had beckoned admiration from those who had beheld it. As light had playfully danced upon its exposed edges, the crown had revealed a mesmerizing display of colors, creating a kaleidoscope of vibrant hues that had shifted in a controlled rhythm. In that moment, it had reflected a serene blue shade, complementing the presence of the Impirith Praetoriar stationed near the grand structure atop the floating island.

"Yes, My Elhyrissiar! It is truly a breathtaking sight!" The individual closest to the Emperor had spoken up, their voice velvety and smooth, as they had stepped closer to the ruler of the Elhyrissian Empire.

"Thank you for your patience, My Elhyrissiar! They are ready to receive you!" A tall, blind figure had emerged from the imposing golden oak gates, clad in modest robes of muted mauve and gold. Their face had remained veiled beneath a hood as they had bowed deeply.

"We are grateful for their time. Let us not waste any more of it." He said with a deep sigh, bidding farewell to the majestic panorama. Raising his hand to silence the servant with concern in his faded eyes, the two disappeared through the gates, leaving the Praetoriars to silently appreciate the view.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

**

The soft rustle of silk had accompanied their graceful descent onto the seating, knees folding and hands finding a comfortable resting place. "Thank you," The Emperor expressed with an amiable smile, acknowledging the Servant who had bowed silently before continuing their duties. With a slender rod held between his index and middle fingers, a gentle spark of flames had flickered and danced at its tip. The Servant carefully approached the candles, bringing the spark close and allowing its smoke to permeate the expansive room, filling it with a sweet and soothing aroma.

Then, after offering a final bow, the Servant gracefully vanished behind cascading sheets of golden and red fabric. The Emperor's gaze wandered through the room, fueled by the curiosity of a child. His eyes fell upon the intricate depictions of the Almodo, meticulously crafted from gleaming gold. One portrayed the Almodo as a flawless child, exuding perfection in every detail, save for the absence of ears on either side. Another showcased a majestic dragon, eyes closed in serene repose atop a peak, its sightless gaze turned skyward. The final sculpture embodied the essence of aevhen kin, featuring Draevhen with scales intricately carved with unparalleled care and precision. He reminisced about his grandfather's tale, recounting that this particular masterpiece had taken nine hundred years to complete.

As the warm light gradually took on a cool, yet tenderly dark hue, the Emperor's attention had been drawn to movement behind the flowing silken sheets, positioned just beyond the soft cushion placed before him. From left to right, three graceful figures emerged, exuding an aura of captivating mystique.

Each figure had been adorned in layers of gold and mauve, their bodies draped in opulent fabrics. The tallest among them had concealed her eyes beneath a delicate silken veil, while the second figure to her right, slightly shorter in stature, had covered the lower portion of her face with a similar satin cloth. The third, the shortest of the trio, had appeared to unveil all of her features, her warm and deep amber complexion fully exposed to the Emperor's gaze.

"Thank you, all, for extending your warm welcome to us in your esteemed abode." He spoke with a tone dripped with honeyed melodiousness. With a deep bow, his forehead nearly touched the surface of the polished wooden table before him, he expressed his gratitude. "We humbly implore you once again to grant us the privilege of gazing upon our intertwined destinies, to find answers to our recent Dreams." He continued, his eyes of prismatic colors, shimmering with a mixture of curiosity and subtle unease.

"The Night in the North stirs, awakening gradually, reclaiming his dreaded power. His fangs loom over us and all the Deosos." The ethereal whisper permeated his ears from the right, solidifying his anxiety and morphing it into fear.

"But fear not, child of the Bright Lord, for heroes will rise once more to challenge the Head of the House of Dusk. Six will be blessed, scattered around the world." The lips of the Tallest Sister parted, their whispers filling the Emperor with hope, soothing his senses.

Silence descended upon the room, his attention shifted to the right, his eyes shimmered with a kind and familial warmth. He had eagerly awaited for her to speak up.

"We express our deepest gratitude for your revelations, oh Great Oracles!" He spoke up once more, bowing deeply in appreciation after believing these were all He offered to him. Slowly, he had risen to his feet, prepared to take his leave.

"A shadow descends upon our world. Its tendrils penetrating the Veil, intertwining with His Dream, setting the course of your Empire, of this world in unseeable directions.” The Youngest Sister uttered in a steady stream of words, her mauve-golden lips moving with a sense of urgency. Her vacant eyes had met his, and her body trembled as she spoke.

“Its Song already pervades the Dream, altering His great work with Its own.” The Tallest added as she jolted up suddenly.

“It knows of them and knows of the Sleeping Feathered Friend. And knows of you, our dear Golden Child. Peace shall be swallowed, flames shall be lit, Order withers so that Chaos can bloom.” The Oracle with a veiled mouth said calmly with a soft, maddened chuckle dancing within his mind.

“But there is still hope our Golden Child. Find His seeds before It pierces their heart, before it ends them.” The youngest spoke with honeyed words – words that gently caressed his ears and mind.

For a fleeting moment, the atmosphere within the Oracle's Hall had appeared suspended in time. Then, The Emperor turned back to His Oracles, his majestic figure bending in a profound bow to express his deep gratitude. Yet, a twinge of worry had pierced his heart as he became engulfed by the shadows, his magnificent presence swallowed by the darkness with a silent smile.

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