“So the gods of the Empire are former members of your species?”

“Correct.” Lilith replied with a nod.

“And they became gods through the System.”

“Correct again.” She said with a smile.

“Then they corrupted the System so others couldn’t climb the proverbial ladder after them.”

“Yes.”

“And Order just let them?” Arcturus demanded.

“Order has a policy of complete non-interference, Arcturus. Order is bound by laws, either of His own devising or those of a Supreme Being even higher than Him, though that’s conjecture.” She shook her head and continued. “All we know, for certain, is that Order does not intercede directly. He cannot. It is contrary to His very nature as Order.”

“And Chaos?”

“Chaos is primordial energy. Emotion, more than intent. Order guides the power of Chaos into the Great Tapestry, and together they weave fate and existence. Chaos as the building block, Order as the guide. In Unity, they are the source of all things, and the end of them as well.” She lifted her hands palms upwards, as if they were scales in equilibrium. “Creation and Destruction in their most basic truths.”

“Alright.” Arcturus said after a moment, processing that information. “So the gods… From what I recall of my reading, there are twelve of them. Does that align with what your records show?”

“It does.” Lilith confirmed. “Do you recall their names?”

“Is this a test?” He asked before answering.

“Somewhat. If you are to oppose them, it would be prudent you know their identities.”

Arcturus grunted, but couldn’t deny her logic. “I still haven’t agreed to anything.”

“But you wish to end their Church?” She pressed.

“Well, yes.” He admitted.

“Then you will oppose them.”

“Okay. Okay.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “So if I recall correctly, the order was: Azrion the God of Light, Kings, and the Heavens. Bellon the God of Magic, Luck, and Wisdom. Coltherion the God of Art, Horses, and Healing. Dectharion the God of Artisans, Courage, and the Water. Ellavione the Goddess of Archery, the Hunt, and Wilderness. Firanto the God of Assassins, Avarice, and Thieves. Judicius—” his face darkened at the memory of Vivienne’s oath “—the God of Law, Oaths, and Oceans. Kithranir the God of Passion, Lust, and Murder. Luveria the Goddess of Matrimony, Secrets, and Children. Mordreth the God of War, Honour, and Fire. Ylvia the Goddess of Harmony, Chastity, and Earth. Finally, Zetria the Goddess of Freedom, Lies, and Vengeance.”

Arcturus’ eyes squinted against the yelling in his head. What the hell was going on with his subconscious?

“You memorised them all?”

“It seemed prudent in an Empire beset by an Inquisition.” He said with a shrug, noting the faint smile of amusement that played at her lips. “But you said there were ‘Elder Gods’?”

Lilith smiled. “Now we come to the heart of the matter, and why you are so important.”

“That’s not usually followed by good news.” Arcturus muttered.

“Perhaps we can change your perception, then.” Lilith replied warmly, before opening another tome and presenting it to him. On the page was a depiction of seven figures; three in black, three in white, and one that was both. As he looked over the fine details of the artistry, Lilith spoke.

“The true gods, or the Elder Gods, are the seven incarnations of power Order and Chaos born to directly care for the Source.” Her voice took on the same informative teacher’s tone, as if she were discussing fundamental mathematics instead of theology. “Three forces of Order, three forces of Chaos, and one force of Unity. Theirs was the pantheon all peoples knew and adhered to, for they demanded no praise or servility, but instead simple respect and obedience to the tenets of what they represented.”

“So there was no conflict?”

Lilith laughed. “Of course not. There was always conflict. Be it between Bahamut and Baphomet, or between Orion and Orphanim. Each of the Elder Gods had an opposite, who was both their twin and their most hated rival. It was through these conflicts and rivalries that progress was made as Life and Death, Creation and Destruction, and Dominion and Freedom held contests between their mortal proxies.”

“You mentioned a few names there. Can you go into more detail?”

“I’m surprised you care.” She said while raising a sculpted eyebrow.

“I know about the twelve assholes, why not your gods too?”

Lilith’s lips twitched upwards at the corners, but she instead chose to answer him instead of commenting on his statement. “Very well. I will start with the gods of Chaos first: Baphomet is the God of Freedom and Chaos—”

“Hold on, Lilith.” Arcturus said with a frown. “I thought Chaos was, well, Chaos?”

“There is Chaos in all things, Arcturus.” She responded patiently. “Baphomet is merely a reflection of this aspect of reality, and its avatar.”

“Okay.” He accepted with a nod. It made sense, after all. “Please, continue.”

“Thank you. After Baphomet, we have Orphanim the God of Destruction and War. Then, finally, we have Ternunda the Goddess of Death and Darkness.”

“Well, those three sound just lovely.” Arcturus said sarcastically. “Sure doesn’t really do much for the stereotype of Chaos being evil.”

“Are those aspects truly evil?” Lilith probed. “Freedom? Certainly not. You yearn for it yourself, often, do you not? What about Chaos? Are you not, yourself, an avatar of that very thing with your actions and how you conduct yourself? As for Destruction, is that not a valid and integral part of the cycle of existence?”

As Lilith continued, Arcturus found himself frowning. Her points were… compelling.

“As for War, Death, and Darkness… War is the very nature of mankind. It is how we comprehend what matters, and how we ensure our strength as a species — how we ensure our survival when confronted by threats. Death is simply a natural part of the cycle, though one that Vitaeans have managed to stave off when it comes to entropic causes, and as for Darkness… Well, that’s just hand-in-hand with the cycles of the Sun, yes?”

“Alright, you made your point.” Arcturus conceded. “So what about the flip side?”

Lilith smiled happily at his expression of interest. “I am glad to see you so interested.”

“I find history interesting, and this is technically history, so…” He shrugged. “Just don’t expect me to start singing hallelujah.” At her puzzled expression, he waved it off. “Nevermind. Continue, please.”

“Very well.” She said after a minute more of quizzical uncertainty. “The three other aspects are as follows: Bahamut the God of Dominion and Order—”

“Dominion?” Arcturus interjected. “As in Empires, nations, that sort of thing?”

“Correct. Bahamut was often the patron God of rulers and other such individuals, prior to his usurpation by Azrion.”

“Okay. Interesting.” Arcturus said as he filed that away. “Continue, please.”

Lilith nodded, seemingly unperturbed by an interruption mirroring the first. “Next we have Orion the God of Creation and Peace. Then, in opposition to Ternunda we have Tiamat the Goddess of Life and Light.”

“Okay, those all sound pretty positive. I’m guessing there’s more to it than the surface, but I’m more so curious about the seventh. Unity sounds interesting.”

“I am very glad you asked. The seventh and greatest Elder God: Astra Zion. Their leader and their restraint. He is the God of Time, Space, and Balance. He alone bore the powers of Order and Chaos, Light and Darkness, Creation and Destruction in Unity. It was, in fact, through His blessing that the Imperators Sanguine ruled as the absolute leaders of Vitaean culture. Only through His favour could the Soulforce Aether be used.” Her eyes were fixed on him intently, and Arcturus found himself feeling a little like he were suddenly set upon by spotlights. “The same Aether, Arcturus, that you use.”

Arcturus stared at her in silence for a moment, and then frowned deeply. Something didn’t add up. “I can tell you with complete certainty, Lilith, that I’ve never met any Astra Zion.” He smiled at her. “Cool name by the way.” He waved that away a moment later. “Still, deific intercession is not how I stumbled onto these abilities, which by the way are incredibly unhelpful. I can’t even use a basic elemental spellform.”

“How did you stumble on them?” Lilith asked curiously.

Arcturus watched her warily and remained silent.

“I’m not going to use the information against you.”

“I’m not exactly about to trust that when I barely know you from a stranger, Lilith.”

“Look around you.” She said with near-frustration. “What am I going to do? Who am I going to tell? We already know your powers are of the soulforce, Arcturus. All I’m asking for is insight. I’m a scholar, I wish to understand.”

“You’re going to think I’m mad, even if I tell you.”

“Madder than anything else you’ve heard?”

Arcturus sighed and rubbed his temples. “Probably?”

“Please?” She asked sweetly, batting her incredible, dark lashes at him.

“That’s just degrading for both of us.”

She continued undeterred.

Finally, he threw up his hands in defeat. She was right, after all: What could it honestly hurt? He was fate-severed and for better or worse, her species’ last hope. He hadn’t felt or seen a lie in her words or eyes when she’d implied that. Besides… For all her power Lilith was strangely easy to like for Arcturus. Even forgetting the fact she was a once-in-a-multiverse beauty, she had a kind of youthful enthusiasm that made it hard to deny her when she pressed him.

“Fine. It was an accident.”

“An accident?” She asked in momentary confusion.

“I… Well, through a series of unfortunate events—” he tried and failed not to smirk at his own clever pun “—I ended up tossing myself into True Oblivion—”

Her eyes widened in shock.

“—and after I was essentially deleted, I somehow managed to basically will myself back into existence. Next thing you know, I’m waking up on Terra and brute forcing my brain into psionic manifestation to kill a Dire Wolf. Later on, I discovered I could manipulate what I called Voidfire and Lightfire. My aetherblade also takes on a black-and-white fire aspect.”

“Soulfire.” She said immediately. “It’s called Soulfire. That was probably your elemental attunement before you obliterated yourself. Fire, I mean. If it was water, it would be Soulwater. For earth Soulstone, and for air Soulwind.”

“I take it that whoever made those names wasn’t renowned for their creativity.” He muttered, almost embarrassed by them. “Soulfire at least sounds nice.”

“Simplicity can be best.” She said distantly, her eyes unfocused. “You… You reconstituted yourself from Oblivion?” She asked softly.

“Yes.”

“And you innately used psionic abilities?”

“It was that or die, so—”

“I never dreamed… Not if they had given me all the odds in the shardverse…”

“Lilith?”

“Arcturus, even among Vitaeans a psionic first manifestation is incredibly rare. It’s almost unheard-of, in fact. It changes the fundamental nature of your entire powerset. Psionics were terrifying in the old Empire. It’s a miracle the false gods didn’t have their agents try to kill you outright.”

“It’s not even that rare in the Empire—”

“Not for regular Aether uses, no. It grows from Air usually, but for a Soulfire user?” Her eyes fixated on him. “Create a cube of telekinesis for me. Right now.”

“I—”

“Please!”

“Alright! Jesus.” Arcturus flexed his aether and catalyzed his telekinesis, creating the cube she requested. “There, it’s just a—”

“Gods be good.” Lilith said in wonder, reaching out to delicately touch the cube of force, outlined in black-white crackles of flame and energy. “It’s a pure manifestation. A complete symbiosis. There’s no conjunction instability or casting malus. It’s pure.”

“Okay, what?” Arcturus asked.

“Do you have any idea what you really are? To be able to do this, to wield this power alongside force in such a manner? You aren’t simply using telekinesis, Arcturus, you’re manipulating the fundamental force of space. This isn’t simply baseline psychic power, this is gravitic in nature. Without even realising it, you’ve been influencing Space itself around you.”

“Okay…” He said, his heart rate spiking. “So I’m what? Some sort of super rare sorcerer—?”

“A God in mortal form.” She interrupted him with moistened eyes, her gaze fixed on him in awe and perhaps even a little fear. “Whatever your current level of strength, whatever your perceptions on yourself, know this as truth: You, Arcturus Regis Valoura, have through your own actions come to this star not as yet another Nephilim, but as the only being capable of harnessing the powers of both Order and Chaos in Unity absent the decree of Astra Zion.” A drop of moisture stained her cheek, and Arcturus tracked it as it slid down the curve of her cheekbones to rest at her jaw. The sincere, raw emotion she displayed stunned him. “More, you have shown evidence of holding dominion over that which even the false gods never dared lay claim: the fabric of reality itself.”

She reached out and cupped the cube as one might a precious jewel. “You have claimed for yourself powers that were once the exclusive demesne of the greatest divinity ever conceived of. Astra Zion is the eldest and greatest child of the fundamental primordial powers of existence, and you have claimed two of His four domains as your own to access.”

“I can’t be a god.” Arcturus said with a racing pulse. “I… That’s insane. I can’t be. I’ve almost died so many times, I—”

“It is not a thing of the form, but of the essence. Were you to die again, truly die again, you would very likely face a far different fate then going to the Highest. If you were weak enough, the false gods would likely tear your manifestation asunder for fear of what you might become. You are in mortal form, and thus Order’s laws against direct divine intercession hold ironclad. If you were to die, however… They would be free to sunder you instantly.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.” Arcturus said with a locking of his jaw.

“Don’t you understand?” She asked fervently. “With this power you can bring the System back to Terra! You can free the Elder Gods from their ensorcelled slumber!”

“Isn’t that a bit of a heavy ask?” He asked hoarsely. A God? It was ludicrous.

“For you as you are now, it is.” She conceded. “However I do not pose this based on who you are, Arcturus, but on who you have the potential to become.”

“That’s a lot of faith in someone you barely know, Lilith.” He said as he slowly recovered from the deific revelation. “You already know I want no part in some dynastic game.”

“I have faith because I have no other option, Arcturus.” She said while ignoring his repeated objection. “It may seem cruel or selfish to you, for me to put that kind of burden on your shoulders…” She searched his face for a moment before continuing. “…but Faith is all I have. You are all I have. I have to believe in you, Arcturus, because the alternative is surrendering to despair — and I can’t do that. Not after you appeared before us like the answer to prayers I’d thought long forgotten.”

Arcturus searched her eyes as she spoke, and was both surprised and humbled to find no sign of manipulation or duplicity within them. It could simply have been his own lack of awareness or ability to discern the truth, as his cynical side warned, but something deep within his core told him it was more than that. Some part of himself that had perhaps been quiet, but not slain, by the hardships he’d faced knew when he was faced with true belief and honesty. Lilith was being sincere, and direct with him in a way that was both shocking and… refreshing. She believed in him, believed in what he could become, and he felt with surprising confidence that she would work day and night — if he so wished — to help him achieve that lofty potential.

“Before I go making any grand decisions…” He said after a simmering, intense moment of eye contact with the beautiful gothic scholar that left his mouth dry, and his heart hammering for reasons unrelated to his deific revelations. “...We should get back to the whole education thing.” He said as lightly as he could, earning himself a lovely blush and a guilty smile as he finished. It was incredible how stunning she looked with unshed tears in her eyes.

“Yes, I guess we should.”

The following hours of tuition on Vitae passed quickly as they resumed the discussion, with nothing as substantial as their initial conversation overtaking them. The various subtle differences between active and passive Anima and their correlations to Aether were covered, as well as the nature of Aether and its interactions with the world, and finally the way that Vitaeans could learn to actively harness Vitae — which was, it turned out, the primary fuel source for much of their technology including the Grand Acropolis itself.

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That was also how Arcturus learned about the reason behind the citadel’s deterioration.

“So the Acropolis is worn down due to a lack of Anima and Aether to create Vitae, and the Blighted Lands are dead due to a lack of Vitae being given from the Acropoli?”

“Yes. The fortress no longer has the means to fuel its own systems, let alone sustain its beauty. The structural integrity is about the limit of what it can manage.”

“Why?”

“Because we are trapped here, Arcturus. It was the last and most terrible betrayal of the false gods: The very people they had Ascended from were the same ones that most threatened their supremacy, so they bound the Vitaeans. We were relegated as prisoners, and chained to the Grand Acropoli at the heart of our civilization.”

“I thought the gods couldn’t intercede directly?”

“It was a loophole. Since they were of us, they could affect us. None who came after, but those who lived during their ascension… Yes, they could affect us.”

“You’re implying you were alive when this happened.”

“I was.” Lilith confirmed without batting an eyelash.

“That would make you…”

“...very old.” She said with a playful wink. “Though before you grow too concerned, I was not awake for all of it. Not even a majority, in fact. I sleep often and at length. Centuries at a time, really. Sevatar is responsible for ensuring the health of the denizens of the Acropolis when any of them are in slumber.”

“So Sevatar is some sort of custodian?” Arcturus asked, relaxing at her explanation. He wasn’t quite ready to grasp the concept of true entropic invulnerability.

“He’s an Eidolon.”

“That’s not very—” He was cut off before he could continue as she waved her hand as if it wasn’t important.

“Eidolons are artificial constructs linked to a Core. Each Acropolis has one. It’s a System-specific item that allows for singular ownership and control of a facility, location, or area by its owner based on the size, power, and nature of the Core. Sevatar is the Eidolon responsible for administering the Grand Acropolis and serving its ruler.”

“That’s both cool and a little troubling. He has no free will?”

“Sevatar is a Vitae construct specifically. He’s an extremely intelligent, extremely powerful construct. He is no more truly alive than a building is. His very body is merely a design stipulated by the Sovereign for their own comfort in dealing with him.”

“I see.” Arcturus murmured, thinking about the idea of what was essentially a vitae-Android. “That does seem incredibly useful…”

Lilith nodded. “Is your curiosity satisfied? Can we proceed?”

Arcturus stared at her and raised an eyebrow. “Why the impatience?”

Lilith opened her mouth, closed it, and then blushed. “We were in a good rhythm. I didn’t want to break stride.”

Arcturus smiled a little. The enthusiasm she had was endearing. “Alright. Let’s continue.”

“Yes, we were talking about the fall of the Vitaean Empire. So, the gods performed a two-fold deathstroke against our people directly: They bound us to our Grand Acropoli, and they unleashed the Vampire curse. The first’s effects were simple: When the population density within the Acropoli grew too high as more and more Vitaeans sought refuge from what was occurring across the Empire, the Vitae production of the Acropoli couldn’t keep up. Worse, traitors within our ranks sabotaged the Aether and Anima harvesters and ruined our ability to shut them down and our ability to disperse Vitae to the world to stimulate our previous stage of rapid natural growth, and continue the cyclical harvest.”

“So while the Vitae was being sent out, the world was… healthier?” Arcturus felt his understanding grow the more she spoke, and even found himself interested in learning more.

“Vitae is incredibly nourishing.” Lilith said with a nod. “While the Acropoli worked properly, we could increase the fertility and regeneration of the areas we harvested Anima and Aether from by nearly five hundred percent. It more than made up for the massive amount of Anima and Aether we harvested passively. It was a delicate, but fruitful cycle. It made our lands abundant in both natural resources and ideal living conditions for all peoples and creatures.”

“You weren’t lying when you said utopian.” Arcturus murmured, impressed. He was skeptical, but he still hadn’t detected a lie, and while he knew that could mean anything; he would at least listen with an open mind and then extract a System-Oath to ensure the validity of what she said later.

She nodded in agreement.

“And the second of the deathstrokes?”

“The Vampire Curse.” Lilith muttered, looking down at her hands as she clenched them and paled the porcelain flesh of her fingers further. “There are multiple ways to gain Vitae. The first and most common is natural production through a balance of Anima and Aether conversion into Vitae, which in turn allows the Vitaean doing so to grow steadily. Since Vitae is not self-replenishing, it enforces discipline and allows for greater restraint. After all, when we cast magic with Vitae, it drains our reserves. It’s a far smaller cost than Aether, but given how long it can take to regenerate Vitae compared to Aether…”

“It’s substantial. I understand.” Arcturus said as he listened.

“Yes, and the other two ways are simple: A tithe of Vitae from what is produced by the Grand Acropoli, or… draining excess Aether and Anima from living creatures through conflict. A Vitaean can feed on another creature with Aether and Anima, and use the excess to stimulate the conversion of Vitae far more destructively within the body of their enemy. Not only does it inflict considerable harm on the target, it also provides a far quicker source of Vitae for those that choose that route. This was, however, primarily the domain of our most ferocious warriors. Our population at large rather abhorred the practice as savage, if not abominable.”

“Hence the fangs?” He prompted.

“Unrelated, actually.” Lilith said enigmatically. “That will be explained soon.”

Arcturus frowned, but gestured for her to continue. A little patience wouldn’t hurt him.

“The Curse, as I was saying, inflicted an almost obsessive desire for Vitae in the minds of our people. Only the Methuselah and those above them were able to resist.”

“Methuselah?”

“Aristocracy.” She clarified. “As I was saying, only a minority of our people resisted the urge. The result was… disastrous. With so many Vitaeans compacted into the Grand Acropoli… It turned many of the weaker among our number into targets for the stronger, more vicious members. The Sovereigns and their Courts had to watch as our society tore itself apart from the inside, with Vitaeans siphoning from other Vitaeans in a cruel cycle of self-destruction. The feral nature of the curse revealed itself only later, and soon even our Methuselah and strongest warriors were lost: Either to the growing compulsion, or the hordes of Vampires rampaging throughout each Grand Acropolis.”

“How many Vampires are here?” He asked, stunned by the brutality of the image she was painting.

“A few dozen, I’d wager. Those too weak to remain part of the primitive packs or social hierarchies the Fallen created were consumed in turn. Cannibalism became the manner by which they siphoned Aether and Anima from their depleted brethren.”

“Why are they still alive if they need Vitae to survive?”

“Oh, that’s the worst part.” Lilith said with a bitter look. “They don’t. They crave it, but the curse sustains them far, far beyond their normal lifespan. If they feed, at this point, it only works to restore them internally and partially rewind their internal decay.”

“That explains the tar-like blood…” He murmured.

“Yes. They are rotted from within, usually. Vitae can reverse the process, but only in substantial amounts.”

Arcturus fell silent for a moment as he pondered her words, imagining the horror of what must have happened during the days of the Vitaean collapse. Abruptly, a thought came to mind.

“What about non-Vitaeans? If your nation was so beloved and benevolent, surely the regular citizens of your nation or other nations could have helped? You did say Vitaeans were made, not born.”

Lilith shook her head as he spoke, staring down at her hands contemplatively. “It was the opposite. With the Vampire curse turning our people into monstrous, feral things; the traitor gods convinced the Citizens within our territories that we were a threat to Terra… and so they acted. You remember being told your name was ironic and yet appropriate?”

“Based on how you emphasized that, I take it Citizen does not correlate to Vitaean?”

“Yes. Non-Aristocrat Vitaeans were called Kindred, and those on the path to Ascension were named Acolytes.”

“Okay, that clarifies things. Thanks.” He smiled at her apologetically. “Continue, please.”

Lilith nodded, not seeming too displeased with the interruption. As long as it gave him more knowledge about their social structure or composition specifically, it seemed, she was happy to allow it.

“Your name’s origins actually play a part here.” She said as she continued, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness at the topic and scholarly excitement at being able to regale him with her knowledge. “Arcturus Regis Valoura was one of the mortals that took up his blade against us. It could be said that the entire Forsworn Empire, your family’s prestige, and the very order of modern Terran society within that Empire was pioneered by your ancestor.”

“That’s… a lot to put at the feet of one non-Vitaean.” Arcturus said doubtfully.

Lilith waved a hand to dismiss his doubts. “Every royal bloodline in the Forsworn Empire is the same. They were the first and greatest of the betrayers and rebels; the ones that instigated the Citizen uprisings against the Vitaeans as a species, and helped corral us back into the Grand Acropoli within which we were trapped. They were granted terrifying powers by the Twelve. Arcturus Regis himself became the Avatar of Azrion, and his power as I understand it is still a thing of historic reverence for the Forsworn to this day.”

“I suppose I can understand the Avatars, but what of those that followed them?’ Arcturus shook his head. It didn’t add up. “They were only twelve people, how could they oppose such a monolithic Empire?”

Lilith sighed quietly, and Arcturus saw weariness and defeat in her eyes as she answered. “Vitaeans, for all our wisdom and power, were as prone to mortal flaws as any regular-lived Citizen. As we evolved past Aetheric restrictions, we snubbed the basic arts instead of properly mastering them. It was seen as an improper pursuit, one that displayed a sentimental attachment to a lesser point of someone’s existence.”

She shook her head, scowling in discontent. “We instead focused on understanding the use of more esoteric magicks, and primordial sorcery like Destruction and Creation magic. Spatial manipulation, though nothing as natural as what you can do. Summoning as well. Powerful magic, but limiting in their own ways.” Her gaze drifted around them at the library as she finished, scarlet eyes reflecting the dark emotion of the moment.

“So you fell.” Arcturus said softly.

“So we fell.” Lilith agreed as she turned back to him. “In the span of a decade, tens of thousands of years of stability, order, and prosperity was snuffed out and replaced with… a mockery. The Citizens we’d held under our Aegis developed false convictions and fervent faith in a band of deified traitors, and forgot all that we had wrought to aid them. Forgot about the true pantheon that had given them succour and guidance for millennia.”

She laughed mirthlessly. “The false gods even blamed the Vitaeans for the loss of the System when they finally managed to corrupt it, claiming it was us who disabled it and made it inaccessible. Nobody stopped to think how improbable that was. They never truly pondered why we would commit an act which went against what we stood for as a nation.”

“Because the fault was decreed by the gods.” Arcturus guessed.

“Yes.” Lilith agreed. “And as such was considered beyond reproach.”

“I’m sure the Inquisition, or whatever nascent equivalent it had, would have ensured that was the case as well rather early on.”

“To some extent.” She agreed with a nod. “Though according to several accounts there were entire cities of Citizens that didn’t buy the rhetoric, and for a time it was only that resolve which kept the Vitaean loyalists alive, but… Well, once the rebels had taken care of the Dragons—”

“Hold up.” Arcturus interrupted intently, readjusting his posture to watch her with new intensity. “You didn’t say anything about Dragons. Care to elaborate on that?”

Lilith blinked at him, and then laughed despite the topic, largely he suspected due to his expression. “I take it that tickled you?”

“Yes. Dragons are pretty popular in the myths of my shard. I’m hoping you’re talking about real dragons with four legs, two wings, a tail, and massive bodies though — not those two-legged imitations or piddly little horse-sized ones people pretend are Dragons.”

“Wyverns and Lesser Drakes.” She clarified as he spoke. “Draconic subspecies, not true Dragons. As you rightly say, Dragons are majestic and terrifying beings; especially the Great Wyrms. The average Dragon, according to our records, stood at almost ten metres high on all fours, and was nearly thirty metres long from the snout to the end of the tail. Great Wyrms were twice, and in one case nearly triple that size.”

“Woah.” Arcturus said, with no other word seeming truly appropriate.

“Dragons were an ancient and powerful race, Arcturus. They were the first and greatest of the Vitaeans’ allies. It was a great honour for a Vitaean to be bonded to a Dragon, and even moreso to a Wyrm. There was entire Knightly Orders based on which elemental variant of Dragon they had the fortune to bond with.”

“Elemental Variant?” Arcturus asked as he felt excitement and enthusiasm rising within him. “How many variants?”

“The Four Core elements, of course. There were rarer advanced variants too, which usually manifested in the Great Wyrms when they reached the apex of their growth.” Lilith answered with enthusiasm of her own. Arcturus could hardly blame her, he loved Dragons. “There was only one other breed, of primordial aether itself, and in all my studies I’ve only ever seen one such creature recorded in the annals of our histories: Regisaum, the Great Wyrm bonded to Gaius Lucius Imperius Sanguis; the last Imperator Sanguine.”

“Wait, the last?” Arcturus felt the familiar feeling of confusion creeping in as Lilith finished. There was something he was missing. “What about the Sovereign?”

“The Sovereign is a Royarch.”

“Yeah, going to need more than that, Lilith.” He said drily.

She smiled at him in amusement before continuing. “This will be covered more in your lessons on Vitaean social hierarchies, but a Royarch is the highest authority in a Grand Acropolis and in the lesser Acropoli within the Empire’s former distant territories. Each of the seven Grand Acropoli also housed one of the Sanguine.”

“Where was the Capital? And what were the Sanguine?”

“You’re within the Capital.” She said with a mischievous laugh.

“Hilarious.” He said as he settled back into his chair with a roll of his eyes, mulling over what she’d told him. “And the Sanguine?”

“You know what Avatars are, yes?”

“Individuals chosen and empowered by the Twelve.”

“Sanguine were the same, but for the Seven instead.”

Arcturus let out a low whistle. “So they gained the power of their respective patron?”

“They did.”

“So Astra Zion’s chosen was—”

“—always the Imperator Sanguine. The most powerful and most revered Vitaean alive during their reign. In the Fifty Thousand years of the Empire, there were eleven Imperators Sanguine.”

“That’s… A very small number for that period of time.” Arcturus muttered in quiet disbelief.

“Most of them chose voluntarily to end their reign, in favour of a quiet departure. Even effective immortality loses its lustre after enough time.” When she said it, Lilith seemed to be speaking from experience; her eyes taking on a slightly haunted aspect he did not enjoy one bit.

“What about those who didn’t step away?” Arcturus asked, trying to refocus her.

“Slain, usually.” Lilith said dispassionately. “There were many threats to Terra over the millennia. There still are. Sometimes it took an Imperator Sanguine to deal with them. I would assume the current Avatars of the Twelve serve a similar function, when not imposing their masters’ will.”

“So, bearing that in mind, you said the Dragons were bonded to and ridden by Vitaeans?”

“Those chosen by the Dragons, yes.” Lilith confirmed. “That is also the origin of these.” She tapped her fangs. “Astra Zion was the Divine King of all Dragons. His patronage of our species allowed us to inherit certain draconic traits to aid us: Increased regeneration, greater lifespans enhanced further by Vitae, greater muscle density and durability only further improved by the System… and our Fangs. The gifts took time to manifest, but as they did, those who successfully managed to cultivate them grew stronger for their addition.”

Arcturus listened as she elaborated, and then raised an eyebrow at her. “Then how the hell did the rebels win, with both allies of mythic power and inherited traits?”

“By banishing the Dragons.” Lilith said with another hint of bitterness. “It was a ritual created by Bellon, which was enacted by the greatest sorcerers and warriors of the age outside of the Vitaean race itself. Great Wyrms were murdered, and their blood used to create a binding that banished all Dragons and their closest subspecies to a distant shard. Whatever was done, none of the efforts employed could undo it, and the event marked the beginning of the end for the Vitaean resistance.”

“I can imagine. Even forgetting the morale impact, the shock to the fighting strength losing the Dragons must have been…” Arcturus trailed off as he imagined it, picturing the difference between an army empowered by Dragons and one without it.

“It was irrecoverable.” Lilith said softly. “The banishment also served to sever the bonds between Knights and their Dragons. The shock and magical backlash resulted in the deaths of some of the greatest and most storied heroes of the Age as they fell, either in battle due to grief; in their beds as their hearts and bodies failed; or by their own hands when their minds could take no more of the pain. The Dragons were lost, and the Vitaean Empire followed quickly behind.”

Arcturus’ narrowed as a stray thought crossed his mind, and he glanced around them contemplatively. “I’m curious. I know that the Blighted Lands are a result of the overdraw of Aether and Anima due to sabotaged systems within the Acropoli, but why was the stored Vitae not used even after everything finished? Your existence here tells me at least some Vitaeans survived, so—”

The gods’ parting ‘gift’ was to weaken the veil between our dimension and one of insidious magic. Parasitic magic. When the creatures they opened the doorways for entered our reality, their influence twisted and sickened the Anima and Aether around them. It was a small amount in the greater scheme, but enough that when the uncontrolled draw of the Acropoli also absorbed the corrupted portions…” Lilith shook her head. “The amassed Vitae was corrupted and became useless. Those who consumed it were sickened, and those that refused to stop became what we call Strigoi.”

“Strigoi?” He asked, having flashbacks to Romanian myth.

“Worse than Vampires. Nightmare creatures whose flesh is riddled with disease and sores, whose minds have long-since broken. They are the apex lone predators of the sub-levels, and the reason Vampires stay in some semblance of unity. It is lucky you did not encounter one.”

Arcturus looked down for a moment in contemplation of the floor, and the accursed residents far below. That was a problem the System wanted him to correct. He just had to figure out how. He looked up at Lilith, hesitated, and then threw caution to the wind. “I have a System quest to restore the Vampires or kill them. Is there a way?”

Lilith’s eyes widened, and she bit her crimson-painted lower lip. “Potentially…” She gnawed at the flesh, looking torn. “If you could learn to cultivate Vitae and amassed a large enough amount, you could in theory use it to heal them to the point of self-regeneration once you cleansed the Vampire curse.”

“Which I can do because…?”

“My hypothesis when I learned of what you’d done was that your blade, which itself is an oddity given its incomplete nature, was using the power of your harnessed Soulfire to cleanse the curse placed upon the Vampires by the false gods. As the power of the Eldest of Elder Gods, it is in theory capable of nullifying the Vampiric condition with the power of Destruction, and then consequently repairing their bodies at the same time with Creation. Without Vitae, though…”

“Their veins are still filled with corrupted sludge.” He muttered, seeing the problem. “So Vitae is the key…”

“Yes.” She said emphatically.

Arcturus nodded. “Then if we restored the function of the Acropoli across the Blighted Lands, would that also repair the damage done while providing us a resource to restore the Vampires?”

Lilith hesitated after he asked the question, as if he’d taken her slightly by surprise. “I… I can’t say with absolute certainty given extenuating factors, but the Acropoli nurtured and helped maintain the health of the people and lands around them. It’s why we built our cities with the Acropoli at their centres. It would stand to reason that restoring them could work to reverse the effects that created the Blighted Lands in the process, and provide you the resources you need.”

“What’s the main impediment? The monsters?”

“The corruption—” she said with a nod “—and the lack of Vitae to fuel the repairs in the first place. The Acropolis is barely sustaining itself through the ley-line anchors. You can see its disrepair all around you.”

“But at least now I know what would be required.” He said thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair as he considered. “What about learning to cultivate Vitae?”

“You… You would accept our offer—?”

“No.” He said firmly. “I’ll agree to learn, and to listen, and do so with an open mind: But I won’t agree to join this cause to resurrect a fallen nation. I haven’t decided to outright refuse yet, but don’t take that as agreement. I’m not rushing into anything, Lilith. You’ve given me a lot to think about, but you have a bias in this. I won’t make any decisions rashly. I’ve agreed to give it a month. I’ll give it a month.”

“But everything I’ve told you is the truth!” She beseeched. “How can you still be undecided when—?”

“How do I know that?” He asked flatly. “How do I know it’s the truth?”

Lilith stared at him, and then scowled with determination. Before he could say anything more, she spoke. “I swear that all I have said is the truth of Vitaean history, with Order as my binding witness.”

Arcturus grunted as he felt the oath validated by the System.

“Well, that’s one way of—”

I remember!

Arcturus’ hands slammed into his own head as the force of the voice reverberated within his skull, causing his eyes to widen in shock. He looked up to see Lilith watching him in confusion. The voice had been silent! It had been blessedly, utterly, entirely silent and now… Now it was like his head was filled with something too massive for it to properly contain. It felt like his skull was being ballooned out.

“Arcturus?” She asked, her voice sounding as if she were underwater. “What’s wrong?”

I remember EVERYTHING!

Arcturus felt wetness on his lip, and Lilith’s look of alarm as he tasted copper told him it was his blood.

IT IS TIME.

Arcturus felt his vision flash white and black, and when it was over he was on the ground. His limbs wouldn’t respond. His body was frozen. Lilith was kneeling next to him, staring at him in confusion and fear.

“I… My head… Voice…” Arcturus’ words sounded slurred to his own ears.

IT IS TIME. THE HOUR IS AT HAND. TOO SOON IT WAS WHEN FIRST WE MET.

Arcturus saw Lilith muttering under her breath as her hand shone with light, and then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he felt himself fighting to retain hold of his awareness.

The world and her face slipped away from him.

COME TO ME NOW, YOU WHO ARE I. MY HOST, MY BOND, MY FLESH.

Arcturus stood, suddenly, before the closed door of his room on Earth within his own mind. He felt his hand extend towards the handle of its own volition, and the voice of his subconscious shook reality with its force.

THE SLEEPER HAS AWOKEN.