Chapter Fifty-Two:

“When History Lands”

Emily stood on the balcony of her room, arms resting lightly on the carved wooden railing. The wind moved through the massive boughs of the great city, sending cascades of black and crimson leaves drifting downward like silent messengers heralding the premature death of the season.

The trellis around her, once bursting with deep red roses, now bore signs of quiet decay. Some petals had simply vanished, leaving only the thorny stems behind, while others had turned black, not dried, not withered, but blackened as if burned from the inside out. She reached toward one, and at the lightest touch, it crumbled to fine, weightless ash, dissolving between her fingers and drifting into the wind.

She exhaled, slow and measured. The sight should have unsettled her, but in some strange way, it was fitting. She had been blind. Fooled by Rendall, yes, but so had everyone. The burden of deception wasn’t hers alone to carry. That guilt, she had to let it go.

Her fingers squeezed harder against the railing, her grip tightening until the pressure ached. Even if she could forgive herself, what came next?

The Guardian of Fire.

That thought lingered, heavier than the rest. How was she supposed to get across an ocean no ship had crossed in centuries? The Celestial Sea was not simply vast, it was an abyss full of unimaginable nightmares, uncrossable, the very idea of passage laughed at by scholars and sailors alike. And yet, that was where the next Guardian waited.

That was where she had to go.

She tilted her chin upward, gaze threading through the dense canopy above. Somewhere beyond those woven branches, beyond the eternal twilight of Oakspire’s heights, the stars were watching. They had seen everything that had led to this moment. Did they have answers?

A low, distant hum resonated against the evening air.

Emily stiffened, brow furrowing as she listened. It wasn’t the rustling of leaves, nor the distant chatter of the city below. This was something else. A rhythmic pulse, a vibration carried through wood and wind alike. Something massive was moving above.

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Between the thick interwoven limbs of the great trees, through small breaks in the dense branches, she caught glimpses of a great beast passing above. The leaves trembled in its wake, the hum rising into a steady, low thrum.

No not a beast. An Airship.

She didn’t need to see its full form to know. She had seen airships before, not in reality, but in the countless games and fantasy worlds that had once been her escape. And yet, standing here now, witnessing one in the flesh, it was incredible.

Emily watched its slow passage, the sheer presence of such a vessel in Oakspire was enough to shift the course of things. If an airship had arrived, the Arch Scholars would take notice.

She let out a slow breath, finally lifting her fingers from the railing. The Airship had come. And sooner or later, this would change everything.

Emily stepped out from The Scholar’s Hearth, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she descended into the bustling streets of Oakspire. The city, usually veiled in the quiet murmur of night, now pulsed with something else, barely contained energy.

Snatches of conversation drifted past her as she moved through the crowd.

“I swear I saw it! It was enormous, like some great leviathan of the skies, its sails stretching like wings ready to engulf the stars!”

“You’re full of it. There’s no way it actually looks like that.”

“Then what did you see?”

“Well… I didn’t exactly see it, but.”

“Exactly. You just want to be able to say you were the first to lay eyes on history.”

“Did it land, though?

Excitement surged through the gathered assembly, an electric current winding between the towering trees.

Players, distinguishable by their more modern garb and the occasional slip of Earth-born slang, were just as caught up in the spectacle. Some were reveling in the nostalgia of seeing something out of a game made real, while others exchanged knowing glances, acknowledging just how unprecedented this was. No one had ever seen an airship in Eldoria. Until now.

Above them, thin branches trembled, shaken not by the wind, but by the movement of bodies rushing along higher walkways. The whole of Oakspire was converging, eager to see what had descended upon their Realm.

Emily kept moving, her boots crunching against the wooden bridges and stone paths winding through the city. She barely noticed the first flecks of white until one landed upon her nose.

Snow.

Too soon.

She lifted her gaze, watching the delicate flakes drift lazily downward, coating rooftops and the moss-covered walkways in a thin, creeping frost. The branches above groaned, as if burdened by something far heavier than mere ice. The signs of decay were worsening. Oakspire was wilting.

Yet still, the people pressed on, their excitement undeterred. The Grand Hall awaited, and whatever was unfolding there would change everything.

By the time Emily stepped inside, the vast chamber was already filled, the gathered scholars and elders speaking in hushed tones. The great doors had barely shut behind her when she spotted them.

Five figures stood before the Arch Scholars, unfamiliar but unmistakably foreign to this place. More Players.

They stood before the gathered Elders and Scholars, framed by the wavering glow of enchanted lanterns. Their presence alone made it real. Emily's solution had come.

And whether those five knew it yet or not, so had their future.