In the year 642 after the Cataclysm, my city is now engulfed in flames. What will I be remembered for? Dominance? Loyalty? Honor? The sacred tenets of the Golden Sun. Our tenets. But I doubt it. History is written by the victor. And now, for the first time in 642 years, we, the Tarons—hated or revered across every island and continent—are about to lose a war. The irony is bitter. For six centuríes, my ancestors won every battle, every war. Humanity feared us, then worshipped us. We were truly golden, in skin and hair. As a child, I watched Cesnus, the greatest Imperator of the last century, return in glory from his expedition to the old world. Back then, I believed the Golden Sun would shine until the next Cataclysm. Now, I know our banners won’t even flutter on Taron’s spires come morning. My towers will crumble, my child will burn, and I? What will become of me? Yes, what will the Republic do with their hated Lux? Torture? Violate? One thing is certain. The flames will claim me as they did my husband, Sejan. I doubt any Taron embodied our ideals more than he did. Now, as I gaze upon his charred remains, I wonder if he wouldn’t have been a better Lux than I.

Before the republican armada launched its assault, a messenger under a white flag brought me his remains. Jesna wanted to show me, before my end, that even gods can burn.

"My Lux, the ships are ready, your son has been evacuated," Lea interrupted my thoughts. She is one of the last living Imperators and head of my bodyguard, the Lux Invicta. If she could, she would charge through Taron's streets to find death in battle with the III Legion, my legion. Now, as I study her face, her golden skin, her red eyes, her waist-length, wavy gold-red hair, I once again admire the cold beauty of Taron. Standing two meters tall, she towers over most humans. Even the trained slaves of Luna's witches would have to look up to her. The thought of Lea ás Ras being scrutinized by one of Luna's slaves makes me smirk. Her famous longsword, Rosary, the heirloom of her house, would cut him in half faster than his eyes could take in her visage. I know Lea will be a good mentor for my son, my prince, even if she doesn’t believe it herself. Tarons like her were once the cornerstone of our reign. Until the Corruptio began.

"How many times have I told you as a friend not to call me Lux? Lea of House Ras, one of the last honorable ones. Tell me, how many houses still stand firm? How many fought on Thornsee, defended Taron with my husband, and burned like Sejan?"

"Less than half, you know that, Arisa. The Democrates or Reformers might survive the downfall, but what does life without honor mean? They will spend their days as puppets of the republican senate, condemned for betraying their race, their Lux. Even the orcs of the legion are more honorable than that pack. One thing is certain, House Ras will defend your life to the last breath, my Lux." Lea raised her hand to her throat, the sign of the sun.

I shook my head.

"You are destined for more. I ask you to accompany my son to the Morning Land and protect him as his mentor."

Lea reacted as expected: "You want me to live in disgrace. To survive my Lux’s death! To watch as Republicans and Democrates subjugate Taron! I beg you, Lux, let me fight on the palace steps like my blood brothers and sisters. Please, my Lux, I swore an oath!" Her face was bewildered as she threw herself at my feet.

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For us, Tarons, neglecting duty means eternal shame after death.

"I release you from your ius and ask you: Do you swear to protect my son, Palladion, to sacrifice yourself for him, and to train him as the future Lux in umbra?"

"Is that an order from my Lux, Arisa?" my friend asked with a cold expression. That is the face of Taron. The same face with which Lea ás Ras beheaded the bearer of Sejan's remains today.

"If you don't understand it as a friend, then yes, it is an order from your Lux," I said with the same iron stance.

"So be it, Ius perfecta!" Lea cried, saluting the sun.

"Depart before the republicans and traitors storm the palace."

"And what am I to do with Palladion in the Morning Land? Since the Cataclysm, most of the old world is a place of orcs, criminals, barbarians and warlords" the Imperator asked.

"I don't know. One thing is certain, he will be safer from the republican inquisition there than over here in the new world. You must train him to be the Lux in umbra. Ultimately, fate will decide over the black sun, not us mortals," I said as my gaze turned to the flames. Fascinating how something so destructive can look so captivating. The towers of the greatest houses of Taron were ablaze. Centuries of wealth were destroyed in a few hours. Works by the best artists of the new world burned alongside screaming women and children. The fire makes no distinction. No wonder pyromania is among the forbidden schools. Except, of course, for us.

Compared to the suffering here on the palace level, the lower levels of Taron must be akin to hell. For someone who wants to free people, Jesna seems to consider the lives of thousands of lower dwellers a necessary sacrifice. In the end, he is not very different from his hated enemies, us.

"...Arisa?" my friend brought me back from my thoughts.

"Sorry, Lea, I was distracted for a moment," I said.

"I have just received word that the palace gates have fallen, my Lux."

"Then it is time to say goodbye. Farewell, my friend, and know this: The black sun stands firm. Lux invicta!" I said, giving my friend a final kiss on the forehead.

"Lux invicta!" Lea echoed, and I noticed a tear breaking through her iron demeanor. She rose, walked to the door, and just as she was about to open the massive, gold-encrusted door, she turned once more.

"Arisa, you were a better Lux than you might think." And with those words, she stepped through the door and disappeared.

I doubt posterity will remember me as a good Lux. But one thing is clear. There can be no Lux without a throne. No Lux without Taron. No Lux without the seven throne families. Even if four of these houses committed treason, there must be seven houses of Taron origin standing behind a Lux.

With these thoughts, I stepped out onto my balcony. A masterpiece carved from marble. My ancestors had dwarf masters brought from their long-forgotten bastions somewhere in the old world. It is symbolic of our rise and fall. Frescoes depict our greatest victories, but the decadence of the structure also marks the beginning of the Corruptio. The beginning of Taron's end.

I removed my golden plate armor. Unlike the usual armor of humans, our plates, commonly known as Thorns, do not need to be meticulously dismantled by several squires. Gold thorns adapt to the body and encase it automatically. A true sign of Taron's progress.

I had sent my family’s crown treasures on the boats. Among them, the scepter of my dynasty, the ás Pendragyn. Jesna will not have the pleasure of using the scepter as the legitimacy of his rule.

With these thoughts, I climbed onto the balustrade. Even from up here, the highest tower of Taron, you could feel the heat of the flames. The street battles on the barricades and rooftops reminded me of the scurrying ants I often saw on walks in our forests.

"Lux invicta!" I shouted and leapt into the void.