After three hours of riding over towns and forestry, the group felt the train begin to slow. White watched as the rows of small buildings grew until their tallest reached the height of the rail, less than half the size of the buildings they had seen at the beginning of the ride.

They resembled the buildings from Central City in visual design, but just as Avira had said earlier, none contained the dark metal that had been used in so much of the construction within the city. Instead he found constructs of stone, brick, concrete, and wood, most painted in various colors of the Order while some opted for more subdued and natural-looking abodes.

What drew White’s eyes however were the countless murals painted on the buildings and the variety of statues that were dotted throughout the small city. The murals depicted everything from beasts, landscapes, people, and even scenes of war The statues were usually of individuals dressed in the Order’s style carved out of white and black marble, but a number of them took on more abstract designs with curved shapes mingling with jagged structures. They reminded White of the building he had seen within The Sanctuary.

The train pulled into a station with far fewer people than the one it had departed from, pulling into one of two open bays. It stood within an open platform raised to meet the rail’s height over two dozen feet above the ground, a tinted glass ceiling the only thing blocking the outside elements.

When the doors to the cabin opened, Reil’s eyes opened unprovoked and he scooped White up to leave. As the group disembarked, a man stood waiting to greet them.

He was dressed similarly to the speaker White had seen earlier, but instead of robes of a single color, his was decorated in the full panoply of the light. Blue embroideries in the shapes of flames ran down his seams and around his cuffs. A golden stole tipped with tassels hung from his neck down to his stomach. His bronze bald head was uncovered, carrying a subdued but genuine smile even as he bowed to the approaching group. When he rose, his amber eyes glanced at the small dragon before returning to the one holding him.

“Welcome home, Lord of Lightning,” he said.

“My thanks, Deacon Isaac,” Reil replied, “but I no longer carry that title.”

The priest shook his head, still wearing the same smile. “My apologies, but to the Light you still do.”

Reil sighed before offering his hand to the man, who took it with a firm handshake. “It’s good to be home, how have things been here?”

Isaac’s smile broadened as he gestured to the small city around them. “Not much has changed here in the Temple’s City, but the Northern Province itself has developed quite extensively since you’ve been gone. I’d offer to give a tour of the changes,” his eyes moved once more to the dragon then, “but I understand you already have business to attend to.”

Reil placed another hand on White’s head before gently stroking it. “It wouldn’t have been the case if it wasn’t for Varen.”

“You’ll find no complaints from me, I’m simply happy to see you returned to us.” Isaac then turned to the two apprentices who stood behind the old veteran. “And it is good to see you both as well, Lady Avira, Sir Naroe.”

Avira and Naroe gave respectable bows, but only Naroe replied when he rose. “No need for the Sir with me, Lord Deacon.”

“If that is your wish,” Isaac replied. “However, I believe your extensive time with Lord Reil has earned you that much at least.” He motioned then for them to begin walking as he turned toward a set of descending stairs. “My father has prepared for your arrival and is waiting for you.”

“And how is John?” Asked Reil.

Isaac pursed his lips before answering. “He spends much more time in rest and meditation than he used to, and speaks only monthly now at services.”

The older man frowned. “Has he been able to keep up with his duties?”

“He has,” Isaac assured. “Even in his sleep he keeps a constant connection with The Sanctuary. He is able to cast his mind anywhere in the Kingdom and coordinate with the speakers without issue.”

“But?” Reil pressed.

Isaac gave a tired sigh. “But his body is losing its ability to support his power. General Mareth and I have tried talking him into retiring many times but the most we’ve been able to get from him is a list of approved candidates for when he passes.”

Avira’s emotions hardened at the news. “That seems incredibly selfish,” she said with a low and clearly annoyed voice.

The Deacon looked back at her as they exited the stairs onto the street. “I agree, but if you asked him, he would say he’s leaving us a ‘weaponized Memorial,’” he quoted with resentment before continuing on. “But you’re in agreement with many others besides myself, Lady Avira. Despite my father’s bull headed thinking, His Majesty has also been pressing for his retirement.”

“I don’t understand,” Naroe cut in. “Why can’t he choose a successor and die how he wants?”

The Deacon didn’t get to reply before Reil rebuked his apprentice. “Because if he chooses a successor, His Majesty will have all the more reason to force his retirement. And if he were to die as he is now, his soul would forever be bound to the basilica’s cannon,” he said sharply. “And even though that idiot would gladly accept that fate, I’m sure his friends and family wouldn’t, especially during a time of peace.”

Isaac nodded without turning back. “Precisely. There’s no reason for him to make such a sacrifice, especially when there’s a chance to remove and replace him with something else to power the cannon.”

Reil looked back at him sharply. “Is that really possible?”

Isaac only shrugged. “While the gifts of the Light are undoubtedly keeping him alive, General Mareth has already had several ideas of how she could go about it. She believes she could create a mobile version of the throne that supports him now and create a system to power the cannon.”

Reil let out a low whistle. “Her mind astounds me. It makes me wonder why she wasn’t claimed by the Dark.”

Isaac gave a light chuckle. “Don’t worry, her spirit is just as strong. In fact I’m thankful everyday that you named her your successor.” His face suddenly hardened as he lowered his voice. “She’s gotten so close to getting that stubborn bastard to step down, but he keeps refusing her.”

They turned a street corner to see a massive structure waiting for them. Standing at nearly the height of the tallest buildings around it, It was covered in flawless platinum and built closer to a fortress rather than a place of worship. Bulwarks stood connected to arching roofs and flanking domes, their near spotless surfaces perfectly mirroring both the city around it and the blue sky above. Tall painted windows stood over the grand entrance, a series of five mosaics telling of a deep indigo disk carrying a city’s depiction crashing through a fiery sky.

Seven spires rose from beyond the outer walls, each one topped with transitioning ornaments that glinted in the sun. The left three spires held depictions of a sun rising from the horizon, while the right showed a crescent moon waxing into full. In the middle, where the sun had risen and the moon was revealed, they overlapped into an eclipse.

As they approached the long stairs leading up to the structure’s great doors, Isaac stopped and turned to the group. “Before we go in,” he said while turning to White, “I’d like to ask a question, Lord Reil.”

Reil nodded. “I’m relieved it’s only one.”

Isaac’s smile returned with the older man’s comment. “Why ask for my father’s opinion at all?” He gestured to the small dragon still silently sitting in Reil’s arms. “Even with the obvious mysteries, you’ve already taken him deep into The Sanctuary without incident and there are very few that would object to your judgment.”

“Because rank must be respected,” Reil responded simply. “I may have experience and much of my strength still, but I haven’t been a General in years. Light’s blood, I’ve barely been in Lugatea in the past decade,” he chuckled. “Even if John has been confined to the basilica, he’s been here, within the kingdom and near the Heart. He’s stayed connected with the citizens, even if he can’t speak with them as often as he used to.” Then Reil’s eyes gained a mischievous gleam. “And I’ve known him long enough to know that if I did try to throw my weight around, he’d probably rip himself from his chair to try and make me step back.”

Isaac gave a soft, almost sad laugh. “You’re probably right,” he said before turning back to the ornate doors and pushing them open.

Inside was a long hall lined with wooden pews and unlit braziers, their end crossing with a platformed podium that stood beneath a curtain of golden light. From the entrance and the sides, more light from outside spilled through the painted windows, casting shades of violet and orange through most of the hall. Black metal tubes lined with slots snaked across the upper walls, all trailing to the very back of the room to line up with multiple sets of keyboards. Standing in front of the intricate organ was a humble wooden podium.

Besides these things, the hall was barren of decoration and other people, but it was by no means empty. The moment the group had stepped through the doors, White had felt power in the air. Invisible energy that crackled at the edge of his senses like the silent whine of electronics coursed through every inch of the structure, even in the dark pipes. While there was no obvious source, a familiar sweetness lapped against White’s nose and tongue.

Isaac locked the doors behind them as the group continued down the lines of seats. Each step increased the intensity of the air’s flavor and by the time they reached the podium, the sensation was leaking through the link and into Naroe and Avira’s senses.

Naroe smacked his lips, tasting the sensation. “I would have thought the Light tasted like spices.”

Isaac’s stride broke immediately and he turned back to the apprentice. “What?”

Naroe gestured to the small dragon. “White can perceive the primordial energies different to us, and we get traces of that. In this case, General Graves’ energy is very sweet.”

Isaac’s eyes slowly shifted to Reil’s small passenger, his expression unreadable to the unblessed in the room. “You don’t say…” He blinked then, seemingly reverting to his previous state before Naroe’s comment before continuing onto the platform.

The Deacon’s hand ran across the podium, sending a light pulse throughout the entire structure. After a moment, something in the ceiling slotted into place with a dense thud and the golden light that had been shining above them grew brighter as a low hum began to sound through the chamber. The sweetness in the air grew more concentrated than ever as the room began to light up in its entirety, as if a star had descended into the basilica.

Then it dimmed, the power in the room retreating inward at the command of a singular will, and the source of light began to descend. A small platinum platform carried the source down to where the group stood and a blinding figure slowly came into focus. It sat encased in a throne of golden crystals, the gems growing from its seat to cover its form almost entirely. They swirled with stored power, each side offering a new kaleidoscope of colors and stars. If the figure had been able to stand, it would have come close to Naroe in height. In its current state however, it had to crane its head to look up at its visitor’s faces. Wispy gray hair trailed down its skull to brush against the shining material around its shoulders. Its deeply tanned face was lined with years of stress, scars, and golden, pulsing veins that crept up from its neck. But what stood out the most was its eyes. Piercing cool blue orbs that showed the strength that was contained within, they looked out at the world with judgment and immovable conviction.

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When those eyes found White, they squinted with scrutiny as the familiar feeling of being examined washed over the dragon.

“General John Graves,” Reil spoke while sketching a slight bow, Avira and Naroe mimicking the motion. “It’s good to see you, old friend.”

General Graves turned toward his old comrade. “Reil,” was all he said. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d find your way home before the next war started.” His voice was both rough from years of speeches and edged from lack of use, but it carried with it the same authority as White had heard from every other General.

Reil shook his head. “I’ve been busy. Tribes to visit, creatures to save, an apprentice to train,” he motioned his head toward Naroe.

“So I see,” said Graves as he looked the apprentice up and down. Both Naroe and White felt the old man sizing him up before turning to Avira. “It is good to see you as well, young Avira. How is your father?”

“He’s well,” she replied with some reluctance. “He wanted to be here with us, but he was called away to other matters.”

Graves scoffed. “As usual. But I guess I can’t complain too much, he’s been good at keeping the bureaucrats off my back since I’ve been stuck here.”

Avira nodded. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that.”

Graves’ aged lips cracked into a smirk then. “That being said, let him know I’ve been getting pretty bored sitting here.” Then he gave a wide grin, his teeth sparkling in his natural light. “Aria’s given the cannon a whole new set of bells and whistles and I’ve been itching to test it. I’m hoping he can give me a target.”

“I will pass that along,” was all Avira said.

Graves nodded in satisfaction before returning his gaze to Reil and White. “So, this is what all the fuss is about?”

Reil nodded before presenting the dragon to the gleaming General, the two of them locking eyes. “Indeed,” he said, “this is White.”

Graves grunted at the introduction. “I can see why Varen wanted me to be aware of its presence, but I don’t know what he expects me to say.” His eyes narrowed in distaste. “You already can tell it has no connection to the Light, but if the Planes didn’t have a problem with it getting close to the Heart, I don’t see an issue with him staying in The Sanctuary.”

Reil’s brow furrowed. “We’re not discussing whether or not he should stay in The Sanctuary.”

Graves blinked a few times before realization dawned, his eyes widening in visible outrage. “He wants to try and bless it?!”

Reil sighed. “Of course he left me to explain that. Yes, he wants your permission so that we can take White into the Heart and bring him before the Planes.”

Graves let out an audible snarl at the dragon, like a beast who had caught an intruder in its domain, but White didn’t even blink. “I give Rain credit for a lot, but this little bastard could be a ticking time bomb for all we know. It’s one thing if he goes off somewhere random in the Kingdom, it’s another if it happens in the heart.”

Reil nodded. “White has given us no reason to doubt him so far, but I understand your position. With His Majesty indisposed, I was quite upset with the suggestion.” The veteran placed a hand over White’s head then and gently began stroking it. “That being said, his instincts are as good as mine.”

“And what do your instincts tell you?” asked Graves.

“That he isn’t a product of the empire.”

Graves frowned. “Is that it?”

Reil nodded. “That’s it.”

“That doesn’t inspire confidence, Reil,” said Graves. “It’s a far cry from your usual deductions. In fact, I can’t believe you’re even entertaining this with so little to go on.”

Reil shrugged. “As I said, I wasn’t happy with the suggestion either, but I’m not the one who needs to make the decision. Your fellow General is the one who came up with the idea and his station is why I’m here presenting it to you.”

Graves groaned and a pair of disembodied golden spectral hands formed to rub his face. “Light save me, I wish Aria was here. I’m a warrior Reil, my job is to destroy those who threaten Lugatea, not figure out its mysteries.” There was a pause before the encased General gave a long sigh. “Isaac.”

The Deacon stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back. “Yes, General?”

“Could you please play a hymn?”

Isaac blinked, the question catching him off guard. “Any particular one?”

Graves was silent, then the summoned hands faded away to reveal his gaze locked onto the opening he had descended from. “Hyperion.”

The Deacon nodded before approaching the intricate organ in the back of the room. It was clearly made to be used by multiple people, with far too many keys in too many places for only two hands. Yet when Isaac lowered his fingers onto the first keys, it was as if the structure-spanning instrument stirred at his touch. And with its awakening came a deep shiver that ran across White’s very being.

He started slow. Low, almost alien notes rumbled from the long pipes, layering onto one another like the first touches of paint on canvas. His hands reached for only a few notes as he slowly built the song’s intro, but each had an almost ominous power. As he played, they slowly became louder and louder, like he was gently coaxing the great pipes into awakening. Then, when he was satisfied, he truly began to play.

White felt his body tremble from not just the volume, but the melody. No, the symphony. This ancient creation sang not only with a deep, ethereal voice, but with strings and strikes. It was as if it was trying to aid its conductor in place of those who would be normally joining him. Together, they forged something resonating with strife and struggle. But there was a strength there that stood undaunted by the waves around it. In a growing storm of malice, it burned bright in White’s mind. Then he realized it wasn’t only within him, but the basilica itself.

Graves’ station had become a reflection of his son’s artistry, a blazing sun of potential power different from before. Not blinding, not overbearing, but a welcoming flame of pure light blazing with color. The painted rays from the windows were now washed with pale gold and the shadowed corners had receded completely. Only the pipes remained purest black, stoking the fire with their loving song.

That’s when White felt them, the General’s eyes.

They were only two pins of flame now, two blue orbs that burned despite the spectrum around them, yet they bore into the dragon like nothing had before. For the first time, White felt completely naked. He froze, completely unsure of how to react, practically paralyzed beneath the weight of pure vulnerability. It was… painful. And White responded to that pain with rage.

His teeth clenched and his claws flexed, causing Reil to immediately change his grip. White let him, his focus still on the thing that was Graves. His pupils thinned and he bared his fangs, flaring his wings out as much as he could. The small dragon let out as low of a growl as he could, though it was completely drowned by Isaac’s uninterrupted playing. He didn’t attempt to escape Reil’s grip, as he did not intend to attack, but he intended to make his discomfort clear.

The flaming figure did not visibly react, but White felt its efforts focus into a singular point, like the thinnest needle piercing right through his being. White’s body reacted to the intrusion the way it would a virus and the hatchling flinched before beginning to sway groggily. Naroe and Avira tensed as they caught the echoes of nausea and fatigue, barely containing their objections to what was happening. Avira’s fist clenched and Naroe’s teeth gritted, but neither moved as they watched the General perform his duty.

The hymn was drawing close to an end, causing Graves to speed up his efforts. White felt his presence begin shooting across his soul like a comet, scanning all it could while leaving a burning sensation in its wake. Yet still, White did not consciously attack the probe. Graves could feel that this was not just due to the hatchling’s trust in those that brought him here, but also because of something specific Graves has not done. The General could see the figurative line in the sand for the dragon, only because he felt himself toeing it, but neither he nor White knew what would be crossing it. Yet even when Graves found what he had been looking for, the very core of White’s being, the dragon still did not revolt against the interrogation.

Now, as Isaac’s playing began to die with the final long notes, the General reached out with a gentleness that had not been present in his search. Every bit of White tensed with anticipation as the probe of light slowly, carefully, brushed against his core.

Then it was over.

Graves pulled back immediately as the song ended and the room began to shift back into its original state. The flame that had encased the General faded with the power in the room, revealing his eyes to still be locked onto the dragon. Though now, he bore an expression of dumbfounded confusion.

Reil pulled the dazed dragon close, attempting to comfort it in the wake of the intense experience, but he had never taken his eyes off the throne of crystal. Avira and Naroe had relaxed somewhat now that the ceremony was over, but they still stepped in to check on White with their own eyes, glancing between their companion and the still silent Graves.

Isaac moved to rejoin them, visibly sweating with shallow breaths as if he had literally siphoned himself into his performance. “Are you alright, father?” He asked at Graves’ side.

Graves nodded, his mouth opening but not speaking. He closed it again, visibly contemplating his next words. His eyes settled on his son after a moment. “Did you hear or feel anything, Isaac?”

Isaac raised an eyebrow before gesturing to his sweat-stained robes. “You mean besides all the power you were focusing? No, I was too busy conducting its flow so you didn’t overload yourself.”

Graves ignored the comment and turned to Reil. “Did you?”

Reil nodded, still gently petting the recovering White. “The Light seemed shocked when it touched him.” He frowned then, reviewing the memory. “But it wouldn’t say why.”

“But it did say something, didn’t it?” Graves pressed.

Reil nodded but said nothing, turning his gaze instead to his granddaughter. “Find an Umbran and ask them to summon your father and Poe. Now.” Avira blinked and began to say something, but Reil cut her off. “Please Avira, we need them here as quickly as possible.”

She didn’t attempt to argue further and rushed out the door. Naroe watched her leave the room before turning to his master. “Do I get any answers?” He asked.

“Not right now you don’t,” said Reil before handing the now almost sleeping dragon to him. “Right now, you get to take care of him until everyone else gets here.” He then clasped his much taller apprentice’s shoulders before turning him to face a simple door off to the side of the hall. “Go wait in the commons for now,” then Reil paused and turned back to Isaac. “Have you restocked your kitchen by chance?”

Isaac blinked, then nodded. “I went shopping yesterday.”

Reil smiled apologetically, “You’ll probably need to go again when White wakes up, but I’ll reimburse you.”

“No you won’t,” Graves said as more a demand than a statement. “Whatever he eats will be on me,” Reil looked at his old comrade with genuine surprise. Graves shrugged a pair of spectral shoulders. “It’s the least I can do after that whole thing, especially if we actually heard what we think we did.”

Reil smiled at him gratefully. “Just don’t go back on your word when you see how much he puts away.”

________________________________________________________

Avira returned not long after she had left, joining Naroe, Isaac, and White in the common area while Graves and Reil spoke in private. White had slept for a mere thirty minutes before awakening with a ravenous appetite. Both Isaac and Naroe had been set to prepare food for him with specific instruction. Naroe would use what they had on hand to prepare a traditional dish for the dragon, then Isaac would take it into the Sacristy where they kept a multitude of artifacts and tools of The Sanctuary.

Ordinarily, simple treats like plain cookies and wafers would be imbued with a small amount of energy from one of the planes and presented to a member of the Order to refresh or strengthen their bond to the planes. Now Isaac found himself pouring light into a freshly cooked steak and couldn’t help but feel ridiculous. Still, these were the orders of two who were far closer to the Light then he was, and so he prepared it dutifully.

Avira had refused to leave White’s side since returning and watched him carefully from when he slept to when he ate. Both she and Naroe had been worried about the nausea they had felt from White earlier, so it was a relief to watch him tear the steak apart. Then new worries rose as White proceeded to clean every dish presented to him.

Another half an hour passed before Rain and Poe, both in uniform, walked through the doors of the basilica. Their arrival seemed to revitalize the darkness that had retreated in Graves’ presence, and the room appeared much more as it had when the group first arrived. When Reil went to retrieve the others from the commons, he found several stacked plates surrounding a very happy dragon.

Isaac locked the doors to the basilica once more before returning to the now completed group. Reil cradled White in his arms, the dragon content to lay still after his meal. The old veteran nodded to the two new arrivals. “Before I explain the summoning, I’d like to hear what you have discovered, Poe.”

Poe’s beaked mask dipped in affirmation. “I have heard Lady Avira’s theory and believe my findings support it.” He gestured to White as if he were a tool at work. “His body, or what we can understand as his genetic makeup at the very least, is made with a unique spiritual energy not unlike those of Illuminates, yet different.” He reached into his robes and pulled out a small vial of clear viscous liquid that glowed gently in its dark container. Wrapped to its side was a finely cut golden crystal that showed the same power that Graves had been burning with earlier. “There were two things we needed in order to keep a stable sample. The first was a finely controlled and steady stream of Light energy for it to feed off of. Too much and the sample dissipated into what we know as pure Light, too little and it broke down into nothingness. The second,” he tapped the dark vial, “was that it needed to be in contact with some concentrated form of Darkness to keep its shape.” He let his words and their unspoken meaning hang in the air before stating it plainly. “I can only conclude that White is a product of both the Light and Dark.”

No one said anything for a long while, everyone was trying to gather how best to respond to the information. Everyone except the dragon in question, who had grown bored during the explanation and let his mind wander off.

Varen turned to his old master then, the two facing each other with sober understanding. “So,” he said, “what did you find out?”

Reil and Graves glanced at one another before the former General answered plainly. “The Light called him ‘Family.’”