Of all the myths and fairy tales of Soria, there is one that captures the imaginations of all. It is the story of a girl, the first to ever be, the firstborn of the Gods. Among the wide-eyed children and open-eared listeners, there are those who believe the girl’s spirit lives above their world, eternally playing with Night and Day, and forever being that which she was born to be: Life.

Legend speaks of this girl as Lady Vale, the Goddess of Life, who exists secretly in their world, always hidden from their eyes, while her own gaze looks out over all places. It is written within the tattered books of old that Lady Vale lives upon a floating eden of the grandest beauty, an island so tranquil that those fortunate enough to enter fall into a never-ending dream.

Her eden in the sky has many names, but one more often whispered than others: Vale’s Garden. And of all the sorians to have ever lived, only the Empress herself has ever been to Vale’s Garden and seen the Goddess with her own eyes . . . or so claims the tale of young Aurora Ne’Fair.

***

Long, long ago, before even the four seasons had come to be, or Galileo had first created Alchemy, before even the dark coming of the curse, it was spoken that Lady Vale summoned a young girl to her garden in the sky, the first sorian to ever be called upon by the goddess. The girl’s name was Aurora Ne’Fair, and she was a girl who was not particularly attractive, clever, or gifted. In fact, she was the most ordinary of girls, and few ever noticed her.

Upon awakening in Vale’s Garden, young Aurora, who was only still in her teens, looked all around in wonder. It was night, but beneath the starlight, the beauty of the garden entranced her like a virtuoso’s song. Dashes of blue crystals floated all about in the air. Flowers of a thousand distinct colors blossomed at her feet, and upon taking one breath of the garden’s celestial scent, she soon found, quite surprisingly, that she could hear all the voices of nature itself. Finding her courtesies, Aurora had soon introduced herself to all the flowers, trees, and little creatures that looked upon her. And even though she was absolutely sure it was a dream; she could not remember a more beautiful or fonder place in all her memories.

“It is no dream, young Aurora.”

Spinning around, Aurora’s eyes fell upon Lady Vale. The goddess radiated with all the brilliance of the stars, and her beauty was something that could not be captured by any words or names, no matter how old or truth bound they had become. Her skin was ardent and fair beneath the night sky, and she glowed as if she were a star herself. Around the goddess’ neck was a beautiful crystal pendant, and it shimmered under Aurora’s gaze.

The goddess smiled softly, then spoke, her voice as peaceful as a mother’s soothing touch. “You, Aurora Ne’Fair, who, of all the sorians, holds the purest of souls, have been summoned here for a purpose that I must ask of you, if you will.”

Aurora had no words. To be asked of something by a goddess was something one could never be truly prepared for, and thus, silence was her first answer at hand.

“Come, let me show you,” said Vale, raising her arms. And as if the passing of Night and Day hastened, the bright and dim of the world spun round and round above them. Aurora watched in wonder and a little fear, as the world became a woven sphere of light and dark.

Coming to stand beside Aurora, the goddess spoke again. “I have listened to grave forewarnings from Night and Day, as they have glimpsed the future of all worlds, though hopefully not in vain. A great darkness looms on the horizon. You see, my child, a world of pure power must only be led by a leader of pure benevolence. One such as myself has no place in that regard, for I am a goddess, not a ruler. However, the realm of Soria must inevitably be led, and led well, or it will perish, I fear. For if Soria falls, all else will soon follow. This responsibility, this weight, I hope to pass to you, Aurora Ne’Fair. With it comes my eternal blessing, if you will have it, for your heart must cherish the hearts of all and never falter. Of this, only you can do.”

“Only I . . . But—why me?” Aurora flushed. “I don’t know anything about ruling or benevolence, or leadership, or anything really of great importance.” She squatted down and ran her fingers along the petals of a daisy. “I am simply a girl who sells flowers on the streets, and, I mean no disrespect, Lady Vale, but I think you may have summoned the wrong sorian. . . .” Aurora braced herself.

Vale knelt down and the flowers seemed to coo in her presence. “You could not have given me a better answer, my dear. And I assure you, there was no mistake in my summoning.” Vale gestured around. “You must understand, only those with a pure heart can enter this place.” Aurora did not know what she meant, and kept reminding herself that despite what the goddess had told her, the only sense to be made of it all was a dream.

“I summoned every single soul of Soria here this night, yet you, Aurora, are the only one standing before me. And I assure you, my dear, this is no dream.” Aurora’s gaze widened, feeling the words deep in her soul. And just like that, she suddenly knew it to be the truth.

“But, that cannot be true . . .” Aurora whispered. “M-my sister, she would be better. I—I’m only—”

“It is the truth, Aurora. A pure soul is rarer than a dream come true. It is harder to find than light within shadow. The world is made up of many types of people, most of which fall between both ends of that spectrum. There are those who strive for good, yet do some bad. And there are those who commit wrongdoing, but still have semblances of good. But most rare of all, are the ones wholly pure and wholly dark. Far, far fewer are these kinds of souls, born maybe once every thousand cycles, and more often than not, are brought forth by the existence of the other.”

“But I am uncertain of what I am to do. I don’t know the first—”

Vale tucked Aurora’s hair behind her ear. “Just follow your heart, young Aurora. You are not here because you know what to do, but rather, because what you do is true. Do not succumb to your fears, for they can harm you more deeply than any beast or blade. Choose to live out of love, and all will be well. Trust that I will remain by your side, even if you cannot discern my presence.”

Vale took Aurora’s hand and led her across the fields of flowers, past the myriad beautiful creatures that watched them silently from close and far. Aurora could feel in the goddess’ touch the same feeling as being kissed by the sun, and that she was truly a little piece of all things. They came to a stop just before the edge of Vale’s Garden, and the goddess turned to face her.

“This is my gift to you, Aurora Ne’Fair, the first Empress of Soria.”

“Empress?” Aurora squeaked.

Vale removed the same radiant pendant Aurora had noticed earlier from around her neck, then gently placed it over Aurora’s head, bequeathing it to the young girl. Aurora cautiously touched it. It was warm, and it gave her courage. “But I am just a girl. . . .” Aurora whispered.

“This crystal flame is named Lorienia,” Vale spoke. “It means ‘true beauty.’”

“Lorienia?” Aurora echoed, and the pendant began to glow brighter, as if finally finding its long-sought keeper. A familiar sound that reminded her of rain began to coalesce around them. High above, as if watching in approval, the stars brightened beneath the twilight of Night’s wings, and the world around them was a fusion of the ancient forces of light and dark. Aurora stood in wonder as the magic of Lorienia flowed into her.

“W-What’s happening?”

Vale touched Aurora’s cheek. “It is named Lorienia, for when it is worn, the crystal flame will reflect one’s pure soul to any who may look upon them. All will now see you for who you truly are, Aurora. It will be in your hair, your eyes, your smile. In your grace, your love, your humility. This understanding will be felt deep in the hearts of any who gaze upon you, for this is its strength.”

“You said its name means, ‘true beauty?” But what is, true beauty?” Aurora asked.

“It is the love in one’s heart,” said Vale. “Nothing more, nothing less. Your people deserve a ruler who is more than knowledgeable and ambitious, but one with a benevolent heart, one that has the strength to see what is true, and the fortitude to withstand fear and wickedness. Now shine, Aurora, for all the world to see.”

“I—” But Aurora could feel the changes beginning. A warm loving feeling passed through her, lifting her courage and evaporating her fears. She could feel her body changing, her hair growing long and soft, until it glowed with the warmth of the sun. Aurora ran to a nearby pond of clear water. Looking into it, she saw her eyes shimmer and change, shifting like the colors of the sunset, until the summer dusk was in her eyes, then lost to the winter dawn. Touching her face in wonder, Aurora found her skin to be as soft as the petals of a flower.

When Aurora finally stood, she had a new air about her. Her hair, once plain as could be, had grown long and wondrous, and taken on the very color and feeling of starlight. All the creatures, trees and flowers bent toward her, and even the faintest of shadows were lifted from them.

“Do you see now, Aurora? You now reflect who you are inside, and any who looks upon you will know it to be true. But I want you to remember, my dear, that in all the ages to come, in the thousands of cycles that you will guide Soria, sometimes it may feel as if having a loving heart is not enough. There will be many who will try to convince you of this. As a leader, a true leader, you will be tried and tested in many ways, but if you maintain the fortitude of your love and courage, there is nothing that will ever be able to break your goodness, your will, and your compassion.”

Aurora nodded, feeling the strength of Vale’s words guide her. “To be truthful, I don’t feel the same belief in myself as you, Lady Vale. Yet I do feel love for the people of Soria, for the trees, the flowers, the creatures. For the stars, the sun, and the gods. I wish them all love. So, I suppose . . . I will start there.”

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“Hesitancy to take power is a noble trait, and I could not be more certain of you. Are you ready then, Empress?” Vale held out her hand and Aurora took it. “I am as ready as one who could not possibly be ready.”

“You need only be true to yourself, Aurora, and remember the words spoken here this night. Although being Empress will bring many joys, it will also bring tribulation, sorrow and despair at times. Your heart must never waver. There will come a time when all will be enveloped by shadow, and your spirit will be thoroughly challenged, though I have faith that there is no better leader for the people of Soria than you, Aurora Ne’Fair.”

Holding Vale’s hand, the two stood alongside the edge of Vale’s Garden. The first touch of dawn’s light grazed the brim of the horizon, and as the light of day began to fill the whole of the world, Aurora watched in wonder as Vale’s form changed alongside it. The goddess smiled, letting the light of day touch her.

Vale’s skin, once fair, ardent and warm beneath Night’s wings, began to turn darker within the morning light, shifting in color as if she were the dawn itself. The once starlit glow of her body transformed through the color of sand, then copper, before changing to a deep, royal brown. When the light of Day had fully filled the world, Aurora found a different goddess standing beside her.

“You’ve changed, Lady Vale,” Aurora said in wonder. “Night and Day changes you?”

“It is only your perception of me that changes, young Aurora. I am all things. I am the light in the dark, and the dark in the light. Your senses perceive me in a way that is truly loved by both Night and Day, for their love is shown, but in different ways. The goddess you know as Vale is merely a reflection of that very love. Now awaken, my dear, and let that love guide you on your own journey, through this cosmos and the next.”

Thus, was Aurora Ne’Fair’s last memory of Vale’s Garden.

***

And so, it is written that when Aurora returned, all living sorians, from the eldest crone to the youngest suckling babe, had witnessed the moment between the young girl and Lady Vale within their dreams. So it was that Aurora Ne’Fair became unanimously accepted as the first and only Empress of Soria, honored by the world as a gift from the goddess herself.

Many ages have passed since the fateful day Aurora was summoned to Vale’s Garden, and the story of her summoning, like even the most beloved of tales, has been altered, fragmented, and changed with each generation. And so, inevitably, the tale of Aurora Ne’Fair passed into legend and myth, until it was little more than a children’s bedtime story.

And though many adventurers sought the existence of Vale’s Garden, none could ever find it. As their expeditions failed time and time again, the belief that the garden truly existed slowly faded away, until the legend was the only thing that remained of it.

Yet, little did they know that it does, indeed, exist.

***

Among a sea of flowers ran a girl of serene beauty, her hair shining so radiantly in the dark that she seemed born of the stars, for no mortal could have conceived such a being. Her eyes were calm and serene, like dawn after a night of thunderstorms. The cold breath of night licked her cheeks, bringing a smile to her face that could bring light to even the darkest of places.

Vale ran like the wind with the folds of her dress in her fingers, lifted so as to not disturb the flowers blossoming by her naked feet. Silver bangles engraved with golden symbols adorned her wrists, and in one of her hands, she held firmly to a silver chain. From the chain hung a gem that would have caught the eye of any god or mortal alike; it shone, yet did not quite glow, and danced like midnight flame.

Coming to a stop, she closed her eyes and twirled, breathing in the scent of her garden. She knelt and touched her fingers to the petals of a cerulean flower, glowing faintly in the night. She felt its inner voice as the flower sang for her touch. Turning suddenly, something in the distance caught her sight. Something was out of place. Something was not quite right.

Vale felt out across her garden. She could sense the presence of everything within it, the song of life singing peacefully from one thing to the next. Yet, something was out of sorts. There, near the outer edge, was a flower that felt different from the rest. It did not sing, speak, or feel. It only felt cold, and unease grew in her heart.

With all the grace of a passing breeze, Vale was soon cupping the little flower between her soft fingers. Feeling a chill within, she saw that the flower had withered, its once bright petals tarnished and frail.

“Little one, whatever has happened to you?” Vale whispered to the ailing flower. At her touch, the spirit of the flower seemed to rekindle, and its petals bristled ever so faintly, with a little light returning to them.

Closing her eyes, she gently held its stem. For a moment nothing happened, but soon, a soft wind was touching all the flowers around her. Ethereal green threads of energy took form around her hand, twisting out and around the flower. The petals rose higher, their dull color changing back to the glow they once held.

“Now, don’t go scaring me like that, little flower. When you’re ready to tell me whatever might have happened to you, I’ll be ready to listen, all right?” But the flower was silent, and naught could be heard.

A second touch of wind blew past her gently, swaying the flowers. Another might have been chilled by the cold, but the goddess welcomed it, breathing it in as if it were the most marvelous thing in the world. The wind was little more than another form of life, another form of beauty, another one of her children. She looked back at the healed flower. Little shimmers of green energy rose from its petals and dissipated into the dark. Pleased with the sight, Vale lifted her dress and walked carefully back through the sea of flowers until she reached the edge of her island in the sky, the edge of Vale’s Garden.

Gazing out, only the dark of night and the light of the stars met her eyes. As she had countless times before, Vale reached out and touched the invisible barrier of energy that caged her. Energy tingled through her fingers, pulsating in response to her touch.

“Eternally safe . . . yet forever trapped,” she murmured. “What am I to do?”

“Hardly trapped, I might think,” said a child’s voice from behind.

Vale felt herself smiling at the words. Turning around, her eyes fell upon a little girl with big golden eyes and unkempt starlit hair. She wore a simple child’s dress and was barefoot, taking long, careful steps through the flowers.

“Hardly?” Vale echoed. “Sora, I’m trapped in here forever, mind you.”

“Every night you come to the same place and say the same thing,” Sora said. “I thought you might have accepted it by now, but I guess you’re still a crybaby.” She laughed, and her eyes shined like a thousand celestial stars, reflecting an ancient power concealed deep within.

Vale laughed. “Sora! What are the worlds coming to when I am to be lectured by a child?”

Sora stopped, balancing on one leg as she turned to face the goddess. “I’m nearly as old as you, lest you’ve forgotten. And besides, I actually am trapped in here.” Sora carefully placed her foot down. “I should be the one singing to the larks every night. At least, you can do that special thingy, and go explore, if only for a little while.”

Vale placed her hand back on the invisible shield, feeling its touch mimic her own. “You know I cannot bring myself to do that, Sora. And besides, it is not the same,” she sighed. “It isn’t right to take what isn’t mine to take,” and Vale smiled at her old friend. “Even a child should know that.”

“You’re more of a child than I’ll ever be. . . .” Sora mused.

Vale turned back towards the stars, which sparkled beyond her gaze.

“Sometimes I wonder . . . do the stars shine because they want to?”

Sora paused for a moment, considering. “I think they do. I think that, if you’re surrounded by nothing but the dark, then the only thing sensible thing to do is shine.” Sora plucked a piece of grass and put it in her mouth. “Besides, you also shine in the night, so why shouldn’t the stars be the same? Are they not reflections of Life?”

But Vale was no longer listening. A strange feeling had crept over her. She squinted her eyes at the stars, as if trying to see something that did not want to be seen, and a shiver ran through her.

“Lady Vale? Did you hear—”

“One of the stars is weeping . . .” Vale whispered. “It’s Felduir, look—”

Past the invisible barrier that caged Vale’s Garden, and far away in the depths of the cosmos, the star Felduir flickered weakly, as if it were struggling to simply keep burning. Just as Sora was about to ask what was happening, the star flickered one last time and vanished, swallowed forever by the waves of the deep black sea.

Vale gasped, feeling a sudden pain in her heart. She fell to her knees, her eyes blank and confused. She tried to focus as the world around her began to turn. It was many cycles ago that she had witnessed such a sight, something that she had hoped to never see or feel again.

“Lady Vale!?” Sora was at her side in an instant. “What is it?”

“It can’t be,” Vale said, trembling. “Felduir has been taken. I can no longer feel its presence. It is gone. Just gone.” Vale looked at where Felduir once shined. “This phenomenon, this power . . . I’ve felt it once before, but it cannot be. It is too soon, he is . . .”

Sora had gone stiff and silent. The wind blew cold and frigid. Vale was quiet for an awfully long time, unmoving in the night. Sora had continued searching the dark skies, searching for remnants of the vanished star, for a sign that it might return. But nothing. Just empty space, as if it had never existed in the first place.

Sora closed her eyes. “It cannot be, yet it is plain to see that Felduir is now gone.”

Vale blinked, seemingly coming back to reality. Despite the fear she now felt within, Vale summoned her courage, stood, and stepped towards the barrier. Closing her eyes, she listened for the sounds of Soria so far below. Sora came to stand beside her, taking her hand in her own.

“Light fades in the star ocean,” Vale spoke. “The whispers of the chameleoths. I can finally hear them. They have been trying to tell me, but I have not been able to listen . . .” A tear fell down her cheek. “It would seem that there are a great many things that I have been unaware of, but why now? What has changed? And why can I suddenly feel them again, as if the barrier’s strength were beginning to fade?”

“Wait a second, that was his power, was it not?” Sora asked. “Starless Night?”

“None of this makes any sense, I—” Feeling a sudden sense of dread, Vale turned and froze.

“Lady Vale? What’s wrong!?”

“Something is here,” said Vale, starting to run through the flowers. “Something wicked is here!” Coming to a slow stop, Vale found herself looking down at the same flower she had just healed. Its strength had faded once again, and it was now curled in half, a dark color seeping through it like blood in water. She watched fearfully as the last of its petals shriveled away and fell to the ground.

“Death is in this place,” Vale whispered, cupping the flower in her hand.

Sora was soon at her side, her face stark and pale.

“But how can his touch reach this place?” Vale murmured. “What strength is this?”

“Such a thing cannot be possible, not in here,” said Sora. “Nothing can enter or leave this place, no matter what primal or godly force it may be. You and him are two halves of the same whole, your energies, though different, are one and the same.”

“Possible or impossible . . .” Vale said softly. “I can feel it. I feel it all throughout me. I feel it in the wind, in the trees, in the stars. Listen, Sora, the voices of all things have gone suddenly quiet.”

Vale felt an odd chill move through her, and she felt more so than heard the faintest of whispers. A dark whisper, and her every sense stood on edge. But a new wind soon passed her by, and the icy chill of whatever had been, was no longer. Behind them, a different presence had taken form, its energy rippling across the atmosphere of her world like a pebble dropped into still water.

Vale turned slowly, facing what had come.

A great black cloak rippled in the gusts of the night.

“You’ve come,” said Vale, smiling. “Sir Ronin.”

“Yes, my lady,” he knelt, bowing his eyes. “For Chaos has awoken.”