R'eldrun, the seat of power for the temples, sat as a monolith in grassy plains backdropped by the jagged mountains that bordered it. Though its history is shrouded in mystery, many believe R'eldrun was personally crafted by the gods themselves since its architecture didn't match any known civilization. The building was a massive complex with five wings that were each dedicated to one of the gods and housed its most senior worshippers. Impossible spires curved into and pierced the sky in ways and at angles that no normal building material should be able to hold, yet the cold gray stones held. Those who called its halls home lived like ants as the hallways, rooms, and doors of R'eldrun were normally nine meters tall with the central chamber of worship being over fifty meters in height.

"Greetings, Arbiter." The clergy in R'eldrun took no issue with this, quite the opposite in fact, they felt humbled to be in such massive halls. To live in a structure crafted by the very gods you worshipped was one of the greatest blessings they could receive.

"Good morning, Arbiter." One downside of living in such a large structure was that voices often echoed further than you would think. A letter had arrived a day prior from a knight whose horse collapsed from exhaustion when it arrived, and the contents were revealed in front of a large gathering of followers.

"G-Greetings, Arbit-ter." In hindsight, allowing one of the clergy to read it in front of others was a mistake as the news the letter bore flooded across R'eldrun in a matter of hours and caused a massive uproar that needed to be quelled.

"…With every greeting, I feel another one of my hairs turning grey," Arbiter Hoxton quietly complained and ran a hand through his short black and grey hair. Despite being in his early forties, Hoxton almost had a head of completely grey hair from the responsibilities he shouldered every day as Arbiter. His flowing violet robes and golden stole shimmered under the light that spilled from towering stained-glass windows into the massive hallway Hoxton was hurrying through. As his title would imply, the Arbiter acted as a mediator between the temples and his words were final within R'eldrun's halls.

"The assembly hasn't even started yet, Arbiter," his assistant reminded him. The assistant was a man in his late thirties whose bald head glinted in the sunlight. "Though, given the context, I doubt it will take very long."

"True, at a glance today's topic is one that can easily be dismissed." Only two positions in the temples were above Hoxton as Arbiter: Saints of each god, and The Harbinger of Zulm. Saints were rare to grace the world which gave them an alluring mystique as they executed their god's will, but they weren't so uncommon to cause this level of bustle. The Harbinger of Zulm, on the other hand, was closer to being a myth or legend as the last time someone claimed to be Harbinger was during Urldrusk's founding when the first king of Urldrusk was said to have been guided to the site that would one day become the capital city of Gorinville by a man claiming to be The Harbinger of Zulm before he disappeared from history. The fact a new Harbinger had supposedly appeared during a war and that they were an eleven-year-old wizard was more than enough to be skeptical of the claim, but the claim still required an official assembly due to the witness.

"Greetings, Arbiter!" Two clergy in flowing light grey robes greeted Hoxton as they stood outside the massive wooden doors to the central chamber of worship where the assembly would be held. Upon giving them a nod, the two men pushed open the doors and Hoxton was met with a tidal wave of deafening voices. Due to the room's massive size and mostly empty interior, voices bounced and echoed no matter where you were which on a normal occasion wouldn't be that bad; but today it was like the entire chamber was screaming. Shouts came from all angles as everyone voiced their opinions and it was a wonder how things didn't turn into a brawl.

"!!!" But as soon as Hoxton took a single step into the chamber, silence snuffed out all sound. As if by instinct, Hoxton's very presence regained control over all those gathered, cleared their minds, and brought them back to reason. Hoxton and his assistant walked up the aisle toward the center of the chamber where a raised platform of black stone waited for them. The central chamber of worship was a massive circle with each quadrant being divided for each of Zulm's children while the center, marked by the black stone, was where the Arbiter would stand and mediate the gathered flock. The stained glass windows depicting previous, and future, saints bathed the room in a myriad of colors adding a surreal atmosphere to the gathering. Watching silently from the ceiling was a mosaic depicting a massive eye surrounded by letters from an unspeakable language; the letters looked like they were shifting due to the light. When Hoxton reached and climbed up the black stone he adjusted his stole, took a deep breath, and gave a wave of his hand to start the assembly.

"Under normal times I would begin today with a sermon to our divine shepherds," Hoxton's voice boomed throughout the chamber for all to bear witness. "But as I'm sure all you gathered today are aware: this is not a normal time. I ask of you, Voices of The Divine, to please forgive my hubris in this act." Hoxton bowed his head and four cloaked figures from each of the four quadrants of the room stepped forward.

"Our Hearth Mother understands so please raise your head, Arbiter," The Voice of Alm spoke in a soothing voice from beneath the hood of her reddish-brown robes.

"Our Storm Father agrees with the brevity, Arbiter," The Voice of Sen answered in a gruff yet flowing tone as he gave a nod to Hoxton while adjusting the sleeves of his dark grey hooded robes.

"Our Bloodied Sister also wishes for a swift proceeding, Arbiter," The Voice of Muz gave her piece in a curt voice while standing at attention in her shimmering silver hooded robe.

"Our Enlightened Brother hopes today will quell this chaos that distracts so many, that we may return to calm, Arbiter," The Voice of Nuz waxed on beneath his hood as his dark brown robes swayed with his steps and he hugged a thick tome to his chest that he wished he was reading instead of being here.

"I thank you for your understanding," Hoxton said and straightened himself upright to begin addressing everyone. "Brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, sons and daughters of the divine, yesterday we received word that the young wizard Lucina Felswore, under the witness of Daughter Elise, claims the status of The Harbinger of Zulm! I ask of you, gathered flock, what say you to these claims?"

"Heresy!" Someone cried out and the room quickly followed suit.

"How dare some wizard lay claim to be The Violet King's chosen!"

"This is blasphemy!"

"By whose right does this child speak!?"

"…" After hearing the unanimous decision, Hoxton raised his hand and the room fell silent. "I have heard you, gathered flock." From beneath his robes, Hoxton took out the letter and read it over once more. "I ask of you, Elders of Alm, what say you to the witness of Daughter Elise?"

"Ex-Daughter, Arbiter," a man in his mid-twenties corrected and stepped forward. Long blonde hair draped his toned body down to his knees, his reddish-brown robes were perfectly clean as if brand new, and his shimmering purple eyes and light caramel-colored skin betrayed his Yulash heritage.

"Watch your tone, Solomon!" an Elder of Sen shouted in defiance. "You dare speak to the Arbiter in such a-!?" The man's voice was silenced by a glare from The Voice of Sen beneath his hood.

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"My words were meant to give no offense," Solomon Kor gave an apologetic bow toward Hoxton. "I only wished to remind that Elise was excommunicated due to her terrible crimes and is unworthy of the title of Daughter. If I have made offense, then I ask for your forgiveness, Arbiter."

"…So long as you are aware, Elder Solomon." While it might be unbecoming of him as Arbiter, Hoxton disliked Solomon. This wasn't the first time the newly appointed Elder had spoken out of turn and with such blatant disrespect that he then backpedaled with submissive words of appeasement. Hoxton waited for The Voice of Alm to say something, but she remained silent so he continued, "I kept her former title of Daughter to remind those gathered that Elise is not a normal person but was once almost seated amongst our Hearth Mother's most faithful; had it not been for her unforeseen fall from grace. Her words should carry the weight of such history."

"I completely agree, Arbiter," Solomon took control of the conversation, "The words of a heretic should be weighed differently than those of the truly faithful." He spread out his arms and addressed the assembly, "We Elders of Alm decry the claims of the heretic Elise!"

"Here here!"

"Throw away her words!"

"She is unworthy to claim such honor!" Solomon's faithful filled the chamber with agreement and pushed his words as truth despite Hoxton noticing some Elders of Alm looking uncomfortable at their decision; though they didn't speak up.

"I have heard you, Elders of Alm." Hoxton couldn't let his personal feelings cloud his judgment as he was meant to be a mediator for all. Finally, he addressed the last four people, "I ask of you, Voices of The Divine, what say you to this letter's claim?" It was time to wrap up this foolish gathering.

"…" Yet, the Voices of The Divine remained silent. All four Voices stood silently at the head of their gathered faithful without so much as moving a muscle.

"…?" Hoxton looked around at the Voices for clarification yet found nothing and some of the gathered also started fidgeting uncomfortably at the length of silence they found themselves in. Why weren't they denouncing the claim?

"Arbiter?" The Voice of Alm finally broke the silence.

"Yes, most honored Voice of Alm?"

"Accept the letter." Those three words caused the room to erupt once more into chaos.

"What!?!" Solomon cried out in disbelief and took a step toward the Voice of Alm. "Elise is nothing more than a heretic and the claimant is an eleven-year-old Wizard! How can such absurdity and blatant disrespect to our Violet King stand!?" he begged The Voice of Alm for an answer but she remained silent. "Answer now for your wor-"

"Silence, Solomon!" Hoxton's enraged voice cracked like thunder and silenced the room. "You dare make demands to a Voice of The Divine!?" Solomon retreated a few steps back, but even Hoxton couldn't fully fault their outcry. He turned back to The Voice of Alm and asked, "You wish for the contents of the letter to be accepted as truth despite the cries of your flock, Voice of Alm?"

"It is our Hearth Mother's will," The Voice of Alm replied as an unsettlingly coy smile crept across her face which was barely visible beneath her hood.

"It is our Storm Father's will," The Voice of Sen suddenly spoke bringing even more disbelief to the gathered faithful.

"It is our Bloodied Sister's will." More words stoked the chamber's unrest.

"It is our Enlightened Brother's will." More fuel was added to the pyre.

"It is our Violet King's will," the four Voices of The Divine spoke in unison with a declaration that stunned the assembly.

"…" While Hoxton's position did allow him to overrule the Voices of The Divine's decision to accept Lucina Felswore's claim, he found he couldn't bring himself to utter those words. Hoxton tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling meeting the gaze of Zulm's all-seeing eye. Within the abyssal pupil of the eye, and the shifting letters that skittered into his mind, Hoxton was bestowed answer without reason, effect without cause, and he made his decision, "…I have heard you, Voices of The Divine." He took a long, deep breath before raising his hands into the air. "By the will of Zulm and his children, Lucina Felswore shall be known from this day forth as The Harbinger of Zulm!" No applause followed the decree as the assembly was reeling from the decisions of the Voices. "The Harbinger of Zulm is a sacred existence, one who brings us closer to our Violet King and is an extension of his will! Upon the wings of the faithful, I will pen a message to the king of Urldrusk so that our Harbinger may join us here in-"

"No," The Voice of Alm interrupted Hoxton and further shocked the room.

"…No?"

"The Harbinger is exactly where she needs to be," The Voice of Sen answered while nodding his head.

"Words alone will not grant her position, action is required the convince our people!" The Voice of Muz affirmed.

"Through experience and hardships shall our Harbinger be formed, and through newfound understandings will she lay claim to that which our Violet King wishes," The Voice of Nuz mused while tapping their fingers against their book.

"…So it shall be." Hoxton could feel his remaining black hairs turning grey with every word the Voices spoke. "Send word across Pianeta, to all corners of her globe, that I, Arbiter Hoxton, declare Lucina Felswore's claims to The Harbinger of Zulm as valid and that she is to continue her journey as she sees fit! Blessed be, our Violet King!"

"Blessed be, our Violet King!" echoed the clergy before everyone started filing out of the chamber to return to their respective wings and gossip in private about what transpired that day. Hoxton noted Solomon's unusually hostile glare toward The Voice of Alm as he left and felt uneasy, but nothing was certain so he turned and walked down the black stone without confrontation.

"I…shall begin drafting up an official statement," his assistant said hesitantly. He didn't want to openly defy a decree agreed upon by the Voices of The Divine and Arbiter Hoxton, but this situation didn't sit right as it went against the will of the faithful. "We should return, Arbiter."

"…Thank you." Hoxton's mind churned through what little information he had to go on to figure out the Voices' intentions. The Harbinger of Zulm wasn't something that should be given to one who held the title of wizard, yet Elise's letter stated that Lucina could still use her magic without a staff or orb. But could the words of a branded heretic who killed her own fellows be taken seriously? It was The Voice of Alm herself that excommunicated Elise and allowed her to be sent to Urldrusk's Hellhound knight order to begin with, so why was she now siding with Elise? Then there was the presence Hoxton felt before he made his final decision when he looked to Zulm for guidance and was only given what he should say without being given the reasons why. Hoxton muttered to himself, "To try and understand Lord Zulm's ways is a fool's folly."

"Arbiter?" his assistant asked since he couldn't hear Hoxton's muttering clearly.

"It's nothing," Hoxton deflected. "Just me airing my thoughts."

"Understood." The two men walked up the hall that led to the smallest wing of R'eldrun; the home of Zulm's faithful. That said, it wasn't much of a home for anyone since Zulm wanted his followers to focus on his children rather than himself so Zulm's wing in R'eldrun served a different purpose.

"…" As Hoxton approached the doors leading into the only chamber in the wing, the doors opened automatically and a warm breeze kissed Hoxton's cheeks. Beyond the door was a magnificent garden filled with a variety of plants and flowers that swayed in an impossible breeze. The ceiling to the massive chamber was made of clear glass which allowed natural sunlight to shine down on the flowers helping them grow. A simple brick path wove its way through the field to a central plaza area where Hoxton and his assistant's wood desks were located along with some shelves for books and papers. Of those who resided in R'eldrun, only three people were allowed to freely enter this chamber. One was Hoxton's assistant who quickly made his way to his desk to begin drafting up their official statement on the Harbinger matter. The second was Hoxton himself who didn't immediately return to his desk like his assistant and instead walked down a branching brick path through the garden toward the final occupant who was busy weeding a patch of flowers.

"…" The third and final occupant of the chamber was an androgynous human whose features Hoxton could never remember no matter how many times they had met over the years. They wore sturdy boots that were covered in dirt and mud, thick brown overalls that looked old and worn but didn't have a single hole in them, a plain white shirt that had permanent sweat stains despite the temperature being comfortably cool, light-brown leather gloves caked in dirt, a straw hat with shoulder-length blonde hair sticking out of it, and a violet cloth rag tied over the lower half of their face.

"You're blonde, today," Hoxton idly remarked as he approached them. While he could never fully remember The Tender in The Grove's appearance, Hoxton knew their hair was different every time he saw them and would comment on it so that the memory would more easily remain in his mind.

"…" The Tender in The Grove gave a silent nod of greeting before going back to their work keeping the flowerbeds pristine and free of weeds. A bucket sat next to them that was filled with pulled weeds but would never overflow no matter how many were thrown in.

"The beds are as beautiful as ever. I appreciate your hard work despite only myself and my assistant being witness to it." Hoxton stood next to one of the flowerbeds as he continued to talk, "Though you've been here longer than I, at this point, so remember to get some rest when needed."

"…" The Tender in The Grove gave an appreciative nod but motioned with their hand to the weeds that still needed plucking.

"Such a passionate fellow," Hoxton laughed as he breathed in the breeze that carried the scent of countless different flowers. "You make me feel inadequate since I can already feel my bones ache just by watching you, so I'll…?" Hoxton's words trailed off as a strange sight caught his eye. In one of the flowerbeds that had already been weeded stood a white lily with an almost broken stem held up only by a briar thicket that had grown around it. The lily should have died from such damage to its stem, but it seemed that the briar was forcefully holding it up by stabbing its thorns into the lily's petals which was stopping the stem from snapping completely in two. A patch of pink hibiscus and a patch of rare green peonies were also growing nearby and they seemed to be trying to grow toward the broken lily. Thinking it odd that The Tender in The Grove let a practically dead flower and a thicket of briar diminish the beauty of the garden, Hoxton walked over and reached down to pluck the lily.

"…!" But a swift outstretched hand from The Tender in The Grove stopped Hoxton, and they shook their head indicating that the briar and lily were to be left alone.

"…My apologies," Hoxton relented, and The Tender in The Grove gave a satisfied nod before returning to weeding. While it was a strange sight, perhaps it was their personal taste they wanted to express in the garden that they never left so Hoxton decided to leave it alone and headed to his desk. However one thing he couldn't explain that bugged him was why the briar smelled so heavily of iron.