August 8, 1616 Central Calendar
Great Sand Sea, Northwestern Vallarge Province, Holy Milishial Empire
Princess Lugiel fancied a rather childish thought of reaching out with her hand and skimming the peaks of the passing dunes with the tip of her fingers as if they were waves upon the sea, seeing that the Heavenly Vessel that she traveled in continued to hover unflinchingly at an altitude low enough to prompt such imaginations to surface in her mind. Underneath the blanket of stars and the faintly visible Heavenly Stream that spangled the inky black canvas of the desert sky, the Great Sand Sea stretched like a vast ocean beyond the cabin.
Despite the romantic scenery, however, it was honestly a long business trip coming all the way from Runepolis, even if they were mostly flying. While the Princess was allowed the privilege of sleeping whenever she wanted, they were already on the final leg of the trip, and staying awake when arriving at the destination was a longtime personal preference. It's just that the faint sound of the engines outside disturbed the air as a constant drone that lulled at the edges of Lugiel's consciousness, weaving a subtle invitation for a nice shut-eye. She knew the moment she closed her eyes, she'd be out like a light.
Lugiel, feeling restless and expressing her frustration with a sigh, shifted her glance from the circular window to Kuvira sitting opposite her. The friend, Imperial Guard Captain, and the Illustrator's deputy in charge of her protection was still sitting with her back ramrod straight, and upon noticing her charge's expression morphing from composure to a show of discontent, she returned Lugiel's gaze with a faint grin, no hint of tiredness in her expression.
"Is there something wrong, Your Highness?"
"We're about to reach the destination soon, right...?"
"Indeed."
"Right..." Lugiel stretched with a strained sigh. "I fear that my vigilance is waning. Kuvira, would you humor me with small talk so that I may stay awake?"
"Please, Your Highness, should that settle your mind."
"Mm, thank you. It gets so comfortable and quiet in here that I couldn't help but want to call the night early... What a pleasant experience akin to boarding a typical Heavenly Vessel, I feel like floating, but at the same time it's not. I find it beats riding a sand skiff any day. Wouldn't you agree?"
A knowing smile bloomed on the Guardswoman's face. "Why, of course, Your Highness. Without having to get the rough and irritating sand flying to one's face from everywhere, I'd take this craft over any open-air vehicle too."
Lugiel stifled a laugh. "It sounds like something Nanaki would say when you worded it that way."
"You know your subordinates well," Kuvira's grin widened. "He complained upon hearing this time's destination would be in the middle of Vallarge."
"Oh, figures. Was he scared over getting selected to go to the place he detested?"
"Maybe. Though it was rendered moot now that he's not among the ones chosen to be the entourage this time."
"He's such an angry cat, isn't he?"
As Lugiel's giggle became less restrained, Kuvira joined in while some of the passengers who were still awake stole sneaking glances at the two ladies' conversation.
The inside joke and the thought of Guardsman Nanaki and his legendary dislike of the desertic environment eventually brought back to Lugiel's mind this very Heavenly Vessel. Here, amidst the vast emptiness of the Great Sand Sea, they rode not just in comfort, but aboard a piece of magitech that is the first of its kind in a world that existed long after the Ancient Sorcerous Empire's disappearance.
Even for those with decent knowledge of the relevant fields of science, a Samekh-series Heavenly Vessel that was just unveiled to the general public at the end of last year would make for a confusing flying vehicle at a glance with a pair of short wings that fly in the face of people's perception about flying machines, making one wonder how in the world is it possible those inadequate components are able to give it enough lift. Unless one's mind is inquisitive enough to be tantalized into unraveling its mechanism, most would default to assuming that it must be wrought by magick.
The first in the series, the Samekh-1, was decidedly a mastodon of a transport aircraft with a fuselage large enough to be comparable to that of a Boudica 213 flying boat, but was designed with the aforementioned characteristics. In a manner similar to the Boudica 213, its engines occupied a spot on top of the fuselage from the centerline to slightly above the base of the wings. Once wondering whether everyone in Project Fifteen was extremely bold or extremely desperate with their design, Lugiel realized that Meteos Roguerider already knew that it would be a success, and the result speaks for itself, she thought wryly. Not that she's complaining.
Some simply described it as a 'VTOL craft' for its ability to literally take off and land vertically, but the advertisements to hype up the Samekh series used the novel term 'airopter' to describe the type of this vehicle, coming from a combination of two Mysidian words that roughly meant "levitating wing."
An airopter uses the same phenomenon achieved by a certain ancient titan's levitation organ and the infamous Pal Chimera's engines to lift itself and fly seemingly with little care on aerodynamics. Thus, the Samekh was the Holy Empire's inaugural foray into pushing the latest generation Manadriver technology's capability and putting the anti-gravity magic into practical use. For people party to the information, it was clear where this would lead to. But on a more mundane front, it managed to endear the Holy Empire's populace with its novelty and potential, further stimulating their pride for better... or for worse.
As their conversation ventured deeper into exploring the new Heavenly Vessel's various potentials, a speck of light appeared in the distance and grew larger with each passing moment, eventually resolving itself into a cluster of tents illuminated by lighting. Circling above it once, the airopter proceeded to descend on a prepared landing zone in the form of a circular path of solid ground nearby. Their destination, merely a deliberate decoy site to conceal the real excavation zone, was so remote in the middle of the desert that it lacked the luxury of a landing strip. However, their stygian Samekh-1 was able to land smoothly and let its undercarriage touch down at the designated zone.
After donning their masks in preparation for their disembarkation, Lugiel and her entourage finally stepped on land once more. Behind her, the other passengers still couldn't help but murmur among themselves about the experience. The novelty of the airopter had not worn off yet, and combined with the ancient ruin they were about to inspect, the entourage buzzed with a mix of awe and excitement. Talks fueled by their imagination filled the air, with the Princess listened intently, taking note of their observations and questions.
A movement ahead of her snapped Lugiel out of her eavesdropping. One of the armed personnel clad in black fatigues with midnight blue accents and a bulletproof vest, faceless just like everyone else, stood before them, a Longsword automatic rifle slung over their right shoulder. Along with other men present, they belonged to Task Force Nightraider, the Order of the Ancients' unit tasked with escorting the members and becoming the vanguard in securing the ancient excavation sites, specifically in sites with a higher level of secrecy.
"Your Excellency," the member addressed her with a reverent tone. "Welcome to Site D4. My team will be responsible for your safety during your stay."
"Much appreciated. Extend my gratitude to the rest of the team," Lugiel cordially responded. "Now, we are all quite weary from the journey. Would there be a place for us to call the night?"
"Of course, Your Excellency. This way, please."
Led by the escorts, Lugiel's entourage was led towards their temporary lodgings – a cluster of large circular tents overlooking a dig site illuminated by magic lightings, with three heavy generator trucks powering a manacom transmitter and other amenities parked nearby. Though seemed basic, it provided a welcome respite from the night air and the endless dunes that surrounded them. Inside, neatly arranged cots with rolled-up blankets awaited them. Yes, it was no palace suite, but it hardly mattered. The time spent crisscrossing the Empire's diverse terrain in search of the echoes of the ancients had hardened her to rugged accommodations.
The subsequent debriefing among the entourage was short to the point. Site D4 was one of several decoy sites established by the Order of the Ancients. Over the next few days, the generator trucks arranged by Lugiel in advance were to spread out and pass at these decoy sites before making their way to the real one. The Princess herself, eager as she was, planned to depart at the very next dawn, but for now, they rest.
After the entourage politely excused themselves and retreated towards their own tents at the end of the debriefing, a relieved Lugiel undone her hair and shed her outer traveling jacket that revealed a simple long-sleeved shirt. As she sat down on her cot, she glanced up at her escorts.
"That's all for tonight," she announced. "Take a rest yourselves. We still have a trek ahead of us tomorrow."
The escorts chorused a grateful "Thank you for your generosity, Your Excellency" before dispersing and shedding their own gear, once again revealing their real faces. Despite their official roles within the organization, Lugiel's guards' friendship with their charge shone through in the casual way they moved around in privacy. As these four shared a tent with Lugiel, she could see that one by one, they moved towards the four other cots positioned around the circular tent and settled down with a sigh of relief that mirrored her own.
"Oh, finally..." groaned the only male among the group, his face already buried underneath the blanket.
In response, another member who was his younger twin sister replied in a wry tone.
"What, you didn't think we'd arrived, did you? The site isn't here—it's still a hard slog up north."
The man retorted. "I know that. Can't you just let me be?"
"......Alois, Alice, close your eyes already," Matoya of the Gadra (feline) beastmen tribe, the second-oldest member after Lugiel, chided both of them. "Should you be to arise tardily by even a moment, we will not hesitate to leave you tomorrow."
"Ugh..."
Kuvira's snort could be faintly heard amidst the darkness. As for Lugiel, she had to turn around to the other side in her sleep so that she wouldn't be seen snickering at their antics by chance.
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August 9, 1616 Central Calendar, 11:00
There is a reason why the Vallarge Province, despite being one of the largest administrative divisions located in the mainland Holy Empire, remains a sparsely populated region. With only a small portion of arable land to the south near the border with the Carthinia Province, most of the region is predominantly a hot desert occupying a vast basin besieged in three directions by mountain ranges to the north, west, and east that cut it off from the fertile plains and temperate regions that lie beyond, resulting in a harsh and unforgiving landscape where the sun beats down on endless dunes of sand. Water is scarce and found only in the occasional oasis or by venturing deep into the mountains to tap into hidden springs. Local communities prefer to use aerial mounts to quickly traverse the desert, but when they need to transport goods beyond the beast’s carrying capacity, they will find that the only other option of traveling by land is slow and arduous even with sand skiffs. This stands in stark contrast to the highly urbanized southeastern delta on the Eastern Coast where Vallarge’s population converged and thrived, located in a region once known as the cradle of an ancient dark elven kingdom during the Warring Kingdoms Period. With its fertile lands nourished by the life-giving waters of one of the Holy Empire’s major rivers, the delta has become a magnet for those seeking a more prosperous life.
Vallarge's treacherous terrain made it easy for something here to be lost in the sands of time and not found again until heaven knows when by those brave or foolish enough to venture in. Had it not for guidance by Meteos Roguerider's augurs, the Order might never have found a certain ruin completely buried underneath the dunes.
Upon receiving news of the physical discovery of the ruin, which had been hinted at by findings from other sites over time, the Order of the Ancients through the Ministry of Ancient Sorcerous Empire Countermeasures promptly designated it as Area 191. The majority of those unaware of the ruin's true nature hoped firstly that it posed no danger to the personnel or the environment, and secondly, that its nature would be revealed swiftly. Lugiel's inspection of the excavation process was not unusual, given her penchant for overseeing such endeavors by using her position as the Magister of the Eyes. However, this time, with the foreknowledge imparted by their benefactor, she awaited discovery of significant importance on behalf of Meteos Roguerider.
Doing anything in the open, in the middle of the desert, and in the middle of the summer, no less, was a terrible idea. Even the hardiest desert nomads wouldn't dare venture out for no reason during this time. Normally. In the excavation site however stood the Order of the Ancients' vanguard crew, moving around doing their duties as if the tormenting environment around them was but a gentle breeze.
"Good work in getting the door open."
Marching down the slope into the ancient structure with her escorts, Lugiel was accompanied by the supervisor of the excavation site and a squad of Nightraiders. The entrance, already opened by the time she arrived at the site, looked like a gaping maw with a bluish-black construct that greatly contrasted its surroundings.
"Aye, Magister, prying that weird slab open wasn't much trouble for the mages, and there are no pesky monsters to disturb us. We're safe down here," the supervisor replied with a satisfied nod. As expected on the latter, Lugiel thought. "Though seeing what's inside and getting this whole place up and running—that's another story entirely. We're far too deep into the wastelands to tap into a powerplant, and I doubt everyone is keen on straining themselves when they're already busy with magicking to cool their bodies."
"I understand. That's why I took the liberty of arranging for several large generator trucks to be dispatched here, just in case. They should arrive within the next few days. Should be enough to power the preliminary investigation."
"Hah... As expected of Magister Sorath, you've thought of everything," the supervisor praised.
Lugiel smiled to herself underneath her mask, then she wondered aloud. "So... what does it look like in there?"
"Want me to spoil it for you, Magister?"
"......No, never mind. We are about to enter the ruin regardless."
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
As they entered the site, the Nightraiders shifted their pace to walk ahead of Lugiel's entourage, providing escort as per the established protocol. The air inside the ruin was thick and still in contrast to the harsh desert winds that whipped ceaselessly above. The only entryway leading deeper into the ruin was a dark staircase that plunged straight down into what was supposedly to be the only chamber of this facility. Since the opening of the door was very recent and there was little time to set up lighting, motes of pure white light from their manas served as their sole source of illumination.
Alois let out a murmur as they walked further.
"It's like descending into a version of the underworld... I remember reading about it, but for the life of me, I can't recall the specifics. It's on the tip of my tongue..."
Despite his idle remark, Lugiel actually frowned to herself. She could hear the frustration evident in young Alois' voice, even if it's modulated. It was unusual for the well-read Guardsman to be caught off guard by a memory lapse.
Lugiel silently attempted to figure out the answer herself, sifting through her vast knowledge in search of a spark of recognition. But just like him, her mind hit a strange wall. The details of the underworld Alois mentioned hovered just out of reach, with something that she knew to be entirely unrelated taking its place. A name of something pulsed at the forefront of her thoughts as if it desperately begged to be remembered. However, the more she tried to focus on the details, the more it seemed to slip through her grasp, like trying to catch smoke.
Another thought struck her out of nowhere. She had performed the rituals flawlessly out of discipline. Prayers flowed from her lips, offerings were made, and blessings sought. But as of late, maybe one year ago or so, the gods' names themselves seemed curiously distant despite Lugiel knowing that she was praying to the gods.
...Only that insistent name remained whenever she exerted effort, as much as it was frustratingly out of reach. In the end, Lugiel managed to recall nothing briefly stopped her in mid-step. The thought brought about a mix of unsettling and natural feelings, like there's something battling for it.
"Your Excellency?" Kuvira beside her asked in alarm.
"......I'm okay. Let's continue," Lugiel replied, mind already returning to focus on their purpose here. Taking a deep breath, the Magister of the Eyes pushed past the bizarre thought and resumed the descent down the stairs.
The entourage finally reached the bottom of the staircase. Stepping out onto a solid floor, the entourage augmented the luminosity of their magical lights, and as the illumination surged, the main chamber unveiled itself, revealing a single dome with an impressive height. There were faintly visible patterns adorning the smooth surface, with lines intersecting at specific points in the form of dots, some large and some small.
"Well? Do you think it's rather anticlimactic? No corpses, hostiles, or artifacts. Only an empty hall. This place is pretty clean, if a bit dusty. Probably a vault of some sort," the supervisor remarked while the Nightraiders fanned out and swept the chamber, bringing lights to its entirety.
Lugiel hummed in response. So far, the situation was as foreseen.
"Maybe we can find out more if this place is powered by enough mana," she remarked.
"I'm open to all sorts of possibilities. But by then, it would be a pretty boring wait."
"Boredom is a small price to pay for progress. I don't mind."
The supervisor let out a hearty sound that echoed slightly in the vast chamber. "I see you're optimistic. But you're right, of course."
On another spot, Alice pointed upward. "Look at those patterns! Are those things meant to be... constellations as observed during the Ancient Sorcerous Empire's time?"
"Looks like it. Intriguing."
Indeed, the patterns on the ceiling undeniably resembled constellations, celestial maps depicting familiar shapes formed by distant stars. Unlike the patterns they knew, however, it was clear that these were the asterisms of the Ancient Sorcerous Empire based on a sky long gone. Millennia had passed since this structure was built, and the movement of stars, known as stellar drift, had caused constellations to shift to a varying degree of recognizability.
"Is this ruin some kind of observatory? Then why are they building it in a lowland when there's a mountain range nearby?" the supervisor crossed his arms and murmured.
"Maybe it's meant to be a simple chamber adorned with a star chart, or maybe it's something else," Matoya remarked in a knowing tone.
"Huh, you seem to lean more on the confident side about this thing..."
"Am I?"
"Uh... never mind—what I'm even saying? ...Sorry if that offends you."
"Don't worry, Supervisor. No offense taken."
By superimposing the interior with the celestial map from their memories, the entourage could make some past versions of the popular asterisms that changed little, such as the Crown of Majesty. Others, such as the Altar and the Flame of Purgatory were distorted enough from their memory that it looked wrong to their eyes.
On the other hand, from the way the patterns were etched on the surface by carving, seemingly intended to be stationary, this ruin seemed to lack the function to simulate the northern celestial hemisphere into the distant past or future, making Area 191 wasn't an important facility to plan the Ancient Sorcerous Empire's escape to the future. If said escape was even a planned contingency at all.
Nevertheless, it would already make for another satisfying find.
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August 11, 1616 Central Calendar, 20:00
At night two days later, the Magister of the Eyes sat at the head of a long table inside the designated office tent, brow furrowed as she faced four flickering holographic projections of associates that materialized in the empty seats before her.
'A significant development...'
However, it was not necessarily a pleasant one.
Lugiel's mind cast back just a few hours earlier. A member of the Order had burst into her inspection of the ruin, breathlessly relaying a message originated from the Illustrator in Runepolis. This message, in turn, had been relayed by the operatives embedded within the Gynamo Kingdom. Given that the Gynamo outpost was set up as currently the sole conduit through which members of the White Lotus' Seventy Annonrials passed information gleaned from their closed nation to the Holy Empire in secret, updates from this small outside civilization kingdom carried significant weight and thus were heavily scrutinized by both Lugiel and the White Lotus. Unsurprisingly, the latter's leader was also notified and present during the meeting.
"To summarize, the Annonrial Empire is reacting to the Holy Empire's increasing economic activities in the eastern regions, and although there is no evidence that Annonrial discovers that we are also searching for the Revival Beacons to get ahead them, they nevertheless are not taking any chances with the view that the Holy Empire's presence is increasingly getting in the way of their retrieval operations and are preparing countermeasures against us. So far, according to the White Lotus' channels, the trend of discussions between their higher-ups lean towards using Mu and the Second Civilization Area in general as pawns to divert our attention."
Quenching the rising feeling of discomfort seeing Amon's unflinching presence taking his seat on his end of communication, remembering the current date and hour, Lugiel took it upon herself to expedite matters and transitioned swiftly to the matter at hand as soon as the Illustrator finished giving them a rundown of the recent leak from the Seventy.
"Then, our concern is about anticipating Annonrial's potential future strategy..." Lugiel started. "About the worst-case scenario, if Annonrial truly intends to divert our attention from their plans, how catastrophic could things get?"
Magister Enepsigos almost immediately cut in, "Given the Holy Empire's foreign policy, nothing less than a direct conflict with the Second Civilization Area could push the Holy Empire to divert resources to that front. Most likely they could leverage historical grievances to somehow manipulate them into a proxy war against us."
Lugiel grunted. The Kingdom of Mu, the second-strongest superpower perpetually stuck between maintaining neutrality and the foolhardy dream of challenging the Holy Empire's supremacy, would be a ripe target for manipulation. The political landscape in Mu seemed to be a powder keg waiting to be lit. As the Holy Empire's growing influence continued to push them into a corner despite their best efforts, streams of intel came that the hardliners were gaining traction. A well-placed nudge from Annonrial could be all it takes to push them over the edge. The question is how long Annonrial has prepared for this eventuality and how are they going to achieve it.
While she doesn't doubt the Holy Empire's power, destroying Mu in a war caused by a third party that blindsided both of them and made them look like idiots is NOT how Lugiel envisioned the Holy Empire's military to accumulate experience either.
"True. The Holy Empire dragged into a war with some other nation wouldn't accomplish anything. It would only distract us and make the Holy Empire easier prey for Annonrial in the long run."
At that moment, Amon interjected.
"In my opinion, the worst-case scenario would not be manipulation of Muish politics by Annonrial, but the lack of it."
A shiver ran down Lugiel's spine. If there's one who could speak in absolutes, it would be Amon. As if confirming her fears, Amon continued, outlining a scenario that sent a fresh wave of ice through the virtual meeting room.
"Annonrial could simply stage a blatant, devastating attack on Mu's population centers—a false flag operation in broad daylight utilizing their military assets."
"Do you think they will go that far?" the Illustrator frowned.
"As many nations that they erased from existence in the past could attest, yes. They can and they will should they feel cornered hard enough," Amon bluntly said, making the others flinch. "For the Annonrial Empire, deploying advanced weapons to eliminate a threat is not something new, and no matter how they resist, the Muish would be slaughtered in a fight. Since their military equipment resembles those of the Holy Empire at a glance, and no one, not even the Holy Empire itself, suspects Annonrial to be that technologically advanced, the blame as soon as the smoke clears would fall squarely on the Holy Empire, accusations flying thick and fast. And then, Annonrial will sit back and go merrily with their plan as everyone proceeds to tear each other apart."
At this point, Annonrial was still trying to research how to mind-control magical beasts through the Numbers Project. Their surface ships used to be the ones that sunk foreign ships straying too far from the waterway to Bushpaka Latan and abducted the survivors to be experimented on, and when the winged people invented submarines, their impressive fleet of stealthier executioners quickly took their place. Their carrier air wings have also been assaulting nearby island countries without warning as targeting drills.
There was no monster lurking underneath the waters of the Southern World to prey on people for sustenance. No, it was something even worse.
"Considering the state of affairs of the known world and how they have the upper hand in every way imaginable, Annonrial would be hardly disadvantaged even if this scenario occurs. As long as discord is sown and the Holy Empire is made busy handling it, it would already fulfill the minimum requirement of their primary objective," Amon finished his argument.
"The emperor is either bold, or desperate..."
"He's willing to do what he must in order to fulfill his real mission in this world. That's what kind of person he is."
The Princess absentmindedly pounded the table with her gloved fist. Lugiel worked with the understanding that their happy time would be over someday and they would have to face the threat posed by the Annonrial Empire's machinations. Unfortunately, this is too soon. The Holy Empire's options are boxed in no matter what path they take in response should that happen. The power in the shadows has a might beyond anything the Holy Empire or the known world could currently withstand.
"Still, it's too soon to say for certain. Magister Sorath, the leak mentions suspicion and alarm, but not yet concrete plans, yes? They're likely still formulating their response," Enepsigos reminded.
"Nevertheless, Amon—"
The masked young man cut her off with a nod. "I know. The Seventy will continue to gather intel on any developments within Annonrial's borders to the best of their ability. Meanwhile, Annonrial's true nature must be exposed in one way or another. I will contemplate about this."
"...So do we."
"We will not let damnation consume this world again. Let us continue to gather information and formulate contingencies. For now, this meeting is adjourned."
While Lugiel was relieved that Amon understood the assignment, the Princess felt a pang of guilt. His resources in the Southern World were still too thin, yet the stakes were simply too high.
One by one, the holographic projections flickered and faded, leaving Lugiel and the escorts alone in the silence of her tent.
…………
23:45
Long after the holographic projections of her associates had flickered out, Lugiel returned to her personal tent and slumped on her sleeping cot, surrounded by her four friends.
'Damn thee, Zarathostra of the Messiah...' she muttered in her heart, scowling rather ferociously.
The core of Amon's argument was that the ruler of Annonrial wouldn't entertain the suggestion of an attack on a superpower just to create a distraction unless he was certain of success. The Holy Empire's military might be undeniable, and while Annonrial possessed terrifying technology, a head-on clash seemed to be a gamble Zarathostra might not be willing to take. This fact, however, brought Lugiel no comfort. It simply painted a different shade of dread. A desperate ruler backed into a corner, was just as dangerous, if not more so, than a confident one.
"Is there really nothing we can do at the moment?"
Lugiel's gaze fell upon her four companions after Matoya broke the silence.
The Princess sighed. "For now, we wait and strengthen our own defenses. As much as I loathe to admit it."
"...And hope for some miracle that whatever council of winged people over there sees this notion as foolish and cancels it," Alois grumbled. Lugiel actually snorted at that.
The world is indeed unpredictable, but it goes both ways. Sometimes what's stupid will only be pointed out as stupid through hindsight.
"According to Amon and the Seventy, Annonrial is a theocracy that sees Zarathostra of the Messiah as the Left Hand of the Lord, though...?" his twin sister butted in.
"What's your point, Alice?"
"What are the chances that it's what the emperor wants and he simply says that it's the will of the Lord to shut all the opposition?"
"Oh."
"Poor lambs, being led to a slaughter without them knowing..." Matoya murmured.
Ever a nurturing one, she couldn't help but take pity on the innocent winged people that the Annonrial ruling dynasty fed with lies. The mythos maintained by the remaining Light-Winged People in this world to justify the Reclamation—the resurrection of the Ancient Sorcerous Empire—sits on a league of its own eeriness. Mainly because it was mostly embellished partial truths—of which everyone no longer remembered—rather than a complete, baseless, lie.
That the All-Wielder's hand plucked a single being, basked it in His radiance, and in its wake, the five fragments of Man, cast forth and renewed in the All-Wielder's image.
The Five Peoples of the Modern Era, so looked down upon by other, more monstrous-looking races for a multitude of reasons, originated from a now-extinct primate species engineered by the Ancient Sorcerous Empire to serve various roles, ranging from a means of sustenance to an outright outlet for sheer cruelty. The long-lived ones were the most prized, while the beastmen, being 'cursed' with carrying parts of beasts, were the most profane.
That when the All-Wielder stood powerless to forestall the descending corruption and fled so that He might endure and discover a means of salvation, Man committed his greatest sin. Left alone in a world bereft of his god's radiance, he stumbled blindly, desperate for guidance, until he sought to kindle his own light and finally, he awoke.
Having discovered himself at last, Man turned his eyes inward and found he desired ever more. So wars were waged, and brothers were slain, for custody over that which they desire, and the land, pure as a driven snow, she wept tears of black. However, His Left Hand yet remained, and by His Left Hand, Man would be brought back into his proper place.
"Enough talk about their twisted beliefs," Lugiel sighed. "We won't solve anything by speculating on the enemy's religious justifications. Right now, all we can do is prepare for the worst."
The escorts exchanged troubled glances until Matoya spoke up again. "One more thing, My Princess, this thing with Annonrial is a serious matter. Are you certain it is wise to keep your cooperation with Amon a secret from His Majesty? Surely he has the right to know the full extent of the threat we face."
To tell or not to tell. How many secrets do the White Lotus has to keep?
"I'm sure it will be in due time, whenever Amon sees it fit to come clean. I still can't forget when other Magisters see the child behind Amon's intellect as a powerful tool rather than a living being. I care not if it's but a 'trial'—a ruse to test my mettle, the fact that they've even considered it disgusted me. No sane person should ever do that. Henceforth, I am doing what my ancestor expected of me, to do what is right, by helping this child bear the weight that fate unilaterally foisted on him. I'm sure His Majesty will understand."
Kuvira, who was silent until now, saw the glint in Lugiel's eyes and resigned herself to the Princess' caring but unyielding stance, qualities she began to show more prominently as of late. If there's someone to blame, it would be the consensus among the other Magisters to test Sorath the Illuminator's capability by making a scenario where she must protect someone from being abused into a weapon. This is what they get for coming up with that oh-so-brilliant idea of theirs, the Guardswoman thought. Nevertheless, she eventually hoped that everyone was not stupid.
Knowing that arguing further would be a fruitless endeavor, she instead offered a cautionary note. "Very well. Then both you and Amon must be very clever to find a way that serves both your ideals and your duty to the Holy Empire, Your Highness. Understand that we are worried for your sake."