Extract from the -{ Tome of Light }- the divine scripture of the Church of Light.

"When the veil between worlds grows thin, glimpse the prophecy that charts my path to omnipotence. I shall ascend beyond mortal ken, becoming the singular force that shapes the destiny of stars and galaxies." (The Prophecy of the One - 5:8)

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The aroma of simmering spices filled the air as Asher relinquished the cooking duties to Winston. The inhuman being moved with fluid grace towards the kitchen area, his fake ears swishing softly. With a subtle nod, he beckoned Inky to bring the ingredients. The small, shadowy creature scurried across the room, its tiny claws clicking against the wooden floor as it carried various jars and pouches. As Winston began his culinary symphony, Asher settled back into his seat, the worn wood creaking slightly beneath him. The cabin's interior, bathed in the warm glow of oil lamps, seemed to pulse with an air of anticipation.

"Well, I guess we should start then," Asher said, his voice tinged with curiosity. His eyes, reflecting the flickering lamplight, swept over the two beastkin siblings seated across from him. "Can you tell me a brief history of the civilizations and their division across the floor?"

Clover's ears twitched as he glanced at his sister, his whiskers quivering slightly. The soft fur on his face rippled as he spoke, "I will let Sarah answer Sir Asher's question. Among us siblings, she is the one with formal education, as she was studying to become an appraiser."

Sarah's whiskers quivered in surprise at the sudden responsibility thrust upon her. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling as she composed herself. When she spoke, her voice carried a newfound confidence, though a slight tremble betrayed her nerves.

"Well, as we've already informed Sir Asher briefly about the origin of the tower and the races within, I'll skip ahead," Sarah began, her eyes gleaming with intelligence. She leaned forward slightly, her paws resting on the table's edge. "After Saint Norgrim distributed the races on different floors, leaving behind various instructions regarding the tower, he disappeared back to the lawless realm, never to return."

At the mention of Master Norgrim, Winston paused momentarily, his hand hovering over a bowl of finely chopped herbs. The air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension before he resumed his work, the soft clink of utensils filling the silence. Asher noticed the brief hesitation but chose not to comment, his attention returning to Sarah's tale.

Sarah continued, her voice painting a vivid picture of the past. "At first, all races on the first floor lived in harmony, working together to build settlements and fend off wild beasts. This floor became known as the Primal Haven, a paradise for beastkin. But as generations passed, conflicts of interest emerged."

Her words conjured images of sprawling plains and dense forests, of beasts both familiar and fantastical. The room seemed to fade away, replaced by the landscapes of her narrative. "The Luparians fought with the Felarians over the divide of the great central plains in the south. The Avianites clashed with the Scaliarians over the vast marshes to the northwest. And we Smallfolk found ourselves at odds with the Ursarians over the bounty of the great forest in the northeast."

As Sarah spoke, the room seemed to transform. Shadows danced on the walls, mimicking the conflicts she described. The air grew heavy with the weight of history, and Asher found himself leaning forward, captivated by the tale. Even Winston, still busy with his cooking, seemed to move in rhythm with the story, his actions becoming part of the unfolding narrative.

"These conflicts led to a territorial divide among the major races," Sarah explained, her paws gesturing to illustrate the geography. Her movements were graceful, almost hypnotic, as she painted invisible maps in the air. "The Luparians claimed the east of the great plains, while the Felinians took the west with its expansive coastline. The Avianites settled in the northeast of the marshes, drawn to the mountain peaks, while the Scaliarians preferred the southwest with its flatter terrain. We Smallfolk made our home in the south of the great forest, leaving the north and snow peaks to the Ursarians."

As the races flourished, Sarah described how unique cultures and identities formed. The awakened of each race took on the mantle of protectors and leaders, earning the respect of their people. Gradually, the governance shifted from elected chiefs to councils of the most powerful awakened beings. Her voice swelled with pride as she recounted the rise of these legendary figures.

"Eight Arch Alchemists govern the Smallfolk," Sarah said, her voice filled with a mix of pride and reverence. She counted off on her fingers as she listed the other races' leaders. "Five Warlords rule the Ursarians. Seven Wardens of the Sea guide the Scaliarians. Six Stormborn lead the Avianites. The Five Fangs of Fenrir command the Luparians, and the Six Claws of Sekhmet oversee the Felinians."

Her eyes shone as she added, "Each of these legendary figures has completed the Rite of Ascension, breaking past the ceiling of the Primal Haven to explore the worlds above."

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Asher's brow furrowed, his mind racing with questions. The concept of ascending to higher worlds intrigued him, and he couldn't help but wonder about the nature of these challenges. "What is this Rite of Ascension you mentioned?" he asked, leaning forward with interest.

Sarah's whiskers twitched with excitement as she explained, her voice taking on a reverent tone. "It's a series of ten challenges one must overcome to break through the ceiling and ascend to the higher worlds. Those who succeed are known as the Defiants – the ones who broke through the shackles against all odds."

As Sarah delved deeper into the lore of the Defiants, Asher found himself captivated. The air hummed with the weight of history and legend, and even Winston paused in his cooking to listen, his ears perked forward attentively. The sizzling of the cooking food provided a steady backdrop to Sarah's words, creating an almost mystical atmosphere.

Sarah's voice took on a somber tone as she recounted the tale of a first-generation Defiant who sought to unite all beastkin under his rule. Her words painted a vivid picture of ambition, conflict, and ultimate downfall. "This Defiant, whose name has been struck from our records, amassed a great army," she explained. "Many submitted to his rule out of fear, but some races refused to bow. War erupted across the Primal Haven."

She paused, her eyes distant as if seeing the battles unfold before her. "During one such battle, the Defiant's army was on the brink of defeat. In his desperation and anger, he unleashed his full power, far beyond what is allowed on our floor. The slaughter that followed was horrific."

A chill seemed to sweep through the room as Sarah continued, "That was when the tower guardians appeared. They struck without warning or mercy, executing the Defiant effortlessly. It was a ruthless warning to all who might seek to upset the balance of power in the future."

The story of his ultimate defeat at the hands of the tower guardians sent a chill through the room, a stark reminder of the power that governed their world. Asher felt a mix of awe and unease, realizing the complex system of checks and balances that existed in this strange new world.

Asher's mind whirled with questions, particularly about why those who had ascended were allowed to return. When the siblings couldn't provide an answer, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment at their lack of knowledge, he turned to Winston, who was still busy in the kitchen area.

Winston paused in his cooking, wiping his hands on a cloth before addressing Asher's question. His voice was calm and measured, carrying the weight of hidden knowledge. "Dear master, it is quite simple actually," he began. "It is due to the beings that will arrive at the tower from the outside. Unlike the races living within, they have not signed a contract with the creator of the tower. Hence, the direct authority to execute them using the guardians is not there if they behave lawlessly, ignoring the rules of the tower."

He continued his explanation shedding new light on the complex system that governed their lives. "Master Norgrim came up with this measure that the beings who overgrow their levels can travel back down and use their full strength without repercussions from the tower, as long as it is being used within the confines of the rules. Similarly, suppose outsiders or natives are too powerful for the wildlife of the tower's level and cause widespread slaughter and destruction just because they can. In that case, there are entities present to punish those within each level as well."

As Winston spoke, the aroma of the nearly finished meal wafted through the air, a reminder of the more mundane aspects of life amidst talk of cosmic rules and legendary figures. The juxtaposition of the extraordinary and the ordinary created a surreal atmosphere in the small cabin.

The conversation took an unexpected turn when Clover, his fur bristling slightly, expressed doubt about Asher and Winston's claims of being outsiders. His voice was hesitant but firm as he spoke, "I'm sorry if it sounds rude, Sir Asher, but even though you seem to have an honorable character, I- no, we find it rather hard to believe that you two are outsiders."

The tension in the room rose palpably, the air thick with unspoken suspicions and uncertainties. Asher opened his mouth to respond, but Winston's voice cut through the tension.

"Sorry to interrupt, Master Asher, but I have an idea," Winston said, turning from the stove. "The tower has a function that when the first non-native being challenges the dungeons, there will be an announcement throughout the tower to all the intelligent beings registered to the Divine Creation System. That should be more than sufficient proof of our identity."

The siblings exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of doubt and curiosity. After a moment of silent communication, they nodded, accepting the proposal. Asher felt a sense of relief wash over him, grateful for Winston's quick thinking.

As Winston declared dinner ready, the mood in the room shifted once again. Asher invited the siblings to join them at the table, his gesture warm and welcoming. The earlier tension gave way to a more relaxed atmosphere as they gathered around the meal. Sarah and Clover exchanged glances, a mix of uncertainty and curiosity in their eyes as they found themselves sharing a meal with these strange newcomers.

The dinner itself became a lively affair, with Asher and the two little beasts engaging in playful competition over the food. Their antics brought smiles to the faces of Sarah and Clover, who found themselves caught up in the unexpected warmth of the gathering. As they watched the interplay between Asher, Winston, and the creatures, a glimmer of hope sparked in their hearts. Perhaps the future, despite its uncertainties, held promise after all.

The meal was a delicious blend of familiar and exotic flavors, a testament to Winston's culinary skills. As they ate, the conversation flowed more freely, touching on lighter topics and allowing the siblings to relax in the company of their unusual guests.

After the meal, as the last traces of daylight faded outside, Asher inquired about the siblings' plans. Sarah and Clover spoke of their intention to sell the merchandise they had brought back, a process that would take about two days. Beyond that, their future remained uncertain, a fact reflected in the slight tremor of their voices.

"We're not entirely sure what we'll do after that," Sarah admitted, her whiskers drooping slightly. "Everything has changed so suddenly."

Clover nodded in agreement, adding, "We'll have to reassess our options once we've sold the goods. Perhaps new opportunities will present themselves."

Sensing that there was little more he could do for them at the moment, Asher prepared to take his leave. As he gathered Winston and the two horrors, the air was thick with unspoken questions and the promise of future interactions. With final nods of farewell, Asher and his unusual companions departed the Swift family residence, their figures slowly disappearing into the gathering dusk as they made their way back to the cabin on the northern peak.

The siblings watched them go, their minds swirling with the events of the day and the strange new acquaintances they had made as the door closed behind their guests, Sarah and Clover turned to each other, their expressions a mixture of bewilderment and cautious optimism.

"What do you make of them?" Sarah asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clover shook his head, his ears twitching thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. They're certainly unlike anyone we've ever met. But there's something about them... something that gives me hope."

Sarah nodded in agreement. "Perhaps tomorrow will bring some answers. And who knows? Maybe these outsiders are exactly what we need in our lives right now."

As they began to clear the table, the siblings found themselves looking forward to the coming days with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.