Light Realm

Eryn

The Temple of Aeryn

Captain Morwen of the Federation of Eryn rapped on the large hardwood double doors leading into the ArchPriests' chambers. Made of ancient Eryn red timber, they etched the doors with gold runes, lending them an artistic appearance even as the runes imbued the doors with protective spells. The soft warm glow of several candles spaced evenly throughout the chamber pressed the darkness back just enough she didn’t need to squint to see. There was a stuffiness about the chamber she’d grown to resent.

She shifted anxiously in her royal blue and gold officer’s uniform. She took a moment to fuss with the collar, ensuring her rank patch sat properly. Being here meant not being on the front, opposing the ever spreading threat of Sauridius’ forces. Her recent defeat at Kofex stung.

The only redeeming factor being she at least grew slightly stronger for the debacle. The death toll she endured labeled the action a humiliating defeat. Her mage company was down to a mere squad that included herself. No, that was being generous. Now it was little more than a fire team. Non-mage reinforcements for the Cadaver Crasher from the Brotherhood of Man were expected to arrive shortly. They would do little to blunt the Sauridius forces, though. They had plenty of cannon fodder but lacked for cannons of their own.

Short of significant personnel and player characters, she doubted if she’d be able to carry out any meaningful campaigns. Her only steadfast supporter was Sgt. Sirsir. Captain Rayshe being an absolute pain in her ass, did little to raise her spirit. She cast a quick glance left and right, thankful for Rayshe’s absence. His position aboard her ship being one purely of nobility appointment sat like bile in the back of her throat. The two gold armored guards positioned at the great doors nodded silently to words which she couldn’t hear. An order given to allow her to pass at a guess.

Without a verbal response, the large cherry wood doors parted open to reveal the very well lit chambers of the ArchPriest. A large fireplace crackled and popped against fresh logs. A velvet blue and gold accented rug lay in the center of the floor. The chamber was circular and sported no windows, making it easier to protect the priest from assault. At least he was taking some of her advice, she thought.

She didn’t need it, but a prompt appeared when her perception skill spotted the ArchPriest and scanned him over.

ArchPriest of Eryn

Divinity: Demigod

Challenge: 9

Morwen stood straighter as the ArchPriest turned from what he was tending to and approached her.

“Thank you for coming, Morwen. I understand your discomfort being home, but this was most important,” the ArchPriest said with a sympathetic expression.

Morwen glanced over his shoulder to notice an item called the prophecy mirror. A fire still blazed around its frame and in the glass. She recalled rumors the ruling class had a divine item that allowed them to peer into future possibilities. The ArchPriest followed her gaze and nodded grimly. He turned, his regal gold spell armor glinting warmly in the fire light around them, and the white and gold trimmed tunics beneath the sparse plates of armor gave the ArchPriest an elegant, almost divine appearance.

Divine was accurate enough, if a slight stretch. Being the ArchPriest of Eryn meant they infused him with a great amount of magic to act as the wellsprings guardian. Enough to be considered a demigod. His appearance was supernaturally handsome and his skin was almost luminous. Despite his appearance, though, Morwen could hear hints of exhaustion in his voice. She couldn’t imagine shouldering that level of responsibility. For her, trying to hold the line was difficult enough as it was.

Morwen marched impatiently behind the ArchPriest, irked by the need to make this as awe striking and mysterious as possible. Straight answers seemed to be the anathema of the people of Eryn. It was always about the beauty and artistry of something. She supposed that was partially why she’d grown so fond of the Federation. Sure, the nobles of Eryn led by the ArchPriest himself had pitched the idea, but it seemed like the Brotherhood of Man had left its strongest finger print on the Federation. From military bearing down to aesthetic details. Right now she longed for the sterile, cold metal corridors of the Crasher over the warm browns and golds of the Temple of Aeryn’s palace chambers. She didn’t feel as safe here. She didn’t feel like she belonged.

He turned the prophecy mirror to Morwen and gestured for her to look. Morwen’s blood instantly cooled. It was never a good sign when you received a request to peer into a prophecy mirror. The ArchPriest’s face went sympathetic again. “I’m sorry. I’d long hoped this wouldn’t be for you, but at long last, the last elements of its message resolved, and I can no longer waste time delivering it to you.”

Morwen sucked in a breath, resolving herself to see the prophecy the mirror had to show. It would seem more than just the ArchPriest were interfering with her life now. Just one more thing to deal with. She nodded, signaling she was ready, and he allowed the prophecy mirror to reveal its images. It took longer than she expected to play. She looked at the priest, all color fading from her face, leaving her pale. Her brows knit in confusion. “I don’t understand?”

The ArchPriest offered a sympathetic smile. “I know. But I wanted you to see first before I explained. So you would know it wasn’t coming from me.” He gave her a soft squeeze on the shoulder, but she didn’t flinch from it.

“The Sauridius are moving. To stop them, you must lead the charge. And you will need your team. Of import, these three beings.”

She recognized her corporal, Yasiin. The resident counter speller and healer. He was a Nomad. Also, a capable marksman against the Sauridius forces since they leaned heavily on Soul magic.

She didn’t, however, recognize the other two faces. One belonged to a slender man with wild red hair that framed his face and almost cat-like eyes. Or were they more draconic? She blinked as she tried to scrutinize the prophecy’s image, but they appeared to just be normal eyes again. She sighed, shaking off the creeping self recrimination.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“You look tired, Morwen. I’m sorry this had to happen now, but I fear putting it off any longer would spell the doom it portends.”

Morwen glanced up, blinking, and shook her head, “It’s fine..your holiness. So I must find this man and woman?” Stammered, trying to come up with an appropriate honorific.

She leaned closer and examined the female in the fiery image. She had duo chromatic eyes. One eye was blue, and the other was blind with brilliant pink magic overlaid. The mark of a mind magic user, perhaps?

The ArchPriest nodded, as if reading her thoughts. “Indeed. She’s capable of using dual magics. And she is vital to your effort in stopping the Saruidius. The world you defend will be the lynchpin of our defeat if you fail.”

“What am I stopping them from doing?” Morwen wondered aloud as she studied the prophecy. She did her best to bury her frustration at a lack of clarity. The ArchPriest shook his unhelpfully.

“I fear I cannot say for certain. Save that I sense a powerful dread lord will be pivotal to the prophecy. He seeks a weapon of some sort. More than that? I cannot say. Stop the dread lord. Save the Federation, and the sector.”

Ominek. Morwen seethed. That cunning bastard never stopped. Somehow, Ominek had become the poster child of evil and stood behind just about every major move the Sauridius had pulled lately. If Morwen were to think of it from a childish perspective, Ominek represented Morwen’s arch nemesis to boil it down to such a simple and reductive view. Morwen knew it was more complicated than that, but in a way it was also that simple, too.

“Is this my mission?”

The ArchPriest stiffened, and conflict flashed through his eyes. “Must I make it one for you to heed the warning?” he asked reluctantly.

Morwen sagged, her bluff called. “No,” she offered after a moment's hesitation. She didn’t particularly enjoy communing with her father like this. Having her family split apart because of her father’s ascent to ArchPriest had created a sore spot in Morwen’s heart. She disliked politics and actively avoided participation in anything even remotely brushing against them. But she could not argue about how powerful he’d become, and how much good he’d done for Eryn and the Federation.

He put his other hand on her shoulder now. She was in danger of a potential hug. She felt her weight shifting to her heels, preparing for an escape from the grip automatically. The ArchPriest’s expression shifted painfully, Morwen noted. “Daughter. I fear for your safety. For your life. But if you do not act, then all may be lost for not just the Federation, but our world. Find the unknown faces the Prophecy spoke of. They will be on the planet Hoshun, but I fear their lives will be in danger soon. Travel with haste. Go with the blessing of our goddess.”

A system prompt appeared, informing her she’d just accepted the archpriest’s mission. Morwen closed the notification and hid it from view. She nodded and tried to extract herself from her father's grip before he swooped her into a hug. She fussed for a moment, before finally relenting with a sigh. After she’d given up and hugged him back, he released her finally, as he always did. She backpedaled out of reach with a huff and smoothened out her uniform jacket, and adjusted her gold bracelet. He gestured to it.

“I trust the armor I’ve given you is living up to your request?”

She lifted her wrist up to look at it fully. She offered him a stiff nod. “Yes,” she said in a clipped tone. A learned habit from the military. “It helped me fend off the Sauridius forces on Tohruun long enough to see the survivors' escape. Thank you.”

Her father bowed his head in an appreciative nod. The elder artifact had been his own personal creation for her protection. His position prevented him from doing much more that would be viewed as favorable treatment for her. So it often left their relationship strained when she’d asked for even simple things like attention or affection from him. Those particular overtures had long since stopped. Of particular note, it didn’t stop him from reaching out to a concubine for solace when their family fell to pieces once he took his position, further straining his relationship with Morwen.

She folded her arms, regarding him for a moment. “I don’t suppose you could finance my crew or purchase us some supplies?”

Her father shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, Morwen. I wish I could, but the prophecy made it clear if I did, it would doom you to failure.”

She squinted, confused by that. “How? You clearly have enough to finance a resupply. I’m more likely to fail without it.” She knew it was a longshot, but it was worth it to try.

He shook his head. “Your supply problem is one you must solve on your own. This is your path to walk, and I’m not meant to walk it alongside you. Go with Aeryn’s blessings.”

Morwen had about faced on her heel and marched for the door before her father could finish. She stormed through the heavy wooden double doors, throwing them open as she did. She’d tensed for the slam, but nothing came. That deflated her a bit. She knew it was childish to throw up so much resistance against her father this way, but she felt like it had to be done. She spun just outside the doorway. “So you want me to rush off on some wild prophecy to save the sector, but you refuse to at least supply me for it?”

He frowned, nodding to her. A heavy sadness in his expression. She got the impression he wanted to do more, but something bigger held him back. Duty? Honor? She couldn’t understand what it was.

“Yes.”

She threw her hands up in exasperation and turned to descend the ornate wooden stairs that led to his chamber. She tapped her bracelet as she descended to key up the comm system and sent a message request spell to her Executive Officer, Lt. Rayshe. A moment later, his voice spoke as if right next to her, “Yes, Captain?”

“Get the Crasher ready to depart. We have a new mission.”

“Understood. Will we be getting the supplies you requested?”

“Negative,” she replied in a clipped tone. Mentally admonishing herself for being sharp and short. It wasn’t entirely Rayshe’s fault. She’d set herself on this path by rebuking Rayshe’s father and his peers. Technically, they out ranked her and funded and sponsored her unit. She didn’t actually own the Crasher or have the funds to support the unit on her own as she wished she could.

“Very well. The ship will be ready by the time you make it back. Where will we be heading?”

“To Hoshun,” she continued her feverish march back to the spaceport. She was used to being given impossible tasks, and not enough supplies or resources to make them happen. She just hoped she could turn things around this time.

“The colony world?” Confusion spilled out of Rayshe’s voice. He was no doubt trying to think of where they would go for supplies next. “Why Hoshun? They are air nomads. Mages stranded without a dragon to guide them. We haven’t had very heavy communication with them in a long time.”

“The ArchPriest suspects Sauridius forces might hit it.”

“I see. Very well. To Hoshun then.”

Morwen didn’t like his reply. The way he always went behind her, like some kind of approving authority just because he was some noble’s spoiled brat. She would have to bring the matter up with him later, in private. If she said anything in the open, his fragile sensibilities might shatter. She grew tired of coddling his ego, but for now she had to endure it since his father had done more to sponsor their work than the ArchPriest had, even though that wasn’t saying a lot.

“Morwen out.” She said curtly, ending the transmission. She had an immense mission ahead of her, and much planning to do. She wouldn’t have to spend anything on Hoshun however, so she decided that was her first stop. After that, she would address her supply problem. Charging into a fight against Ominek under supplied left her feeling with absolute certainty she’d be condemning them all to an early grave. No, this had to be done right if she was going to succeed. This time, she would stop Ominek. This time, she’d win.