Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Nasazura's Rest: Main Temple

When Ari left, the knight fell into a heap upon his bed. He felt the exhaustion of the hike fall upon him with the weight of his responsibilities.

Sleep should have come easier, but he had to fight to keep every face of every person he knew was dead out of his mind. It wasn't until the late hours of the night that he finally fell into a dreamless, dead man's sleep.

____________

It wasn't until the sun had come up that the knight's eyes flickered open. Sitting up, a dull ache spread throughout his body, causing him to groan. He threw his legs over the side of the bed in a shiver, feeling the cold run along his skin.

Carefully, he latched on his armor, then glanced at the sword at the foot of his bed. With a practiced swiftness, he grabbed the weapon and latched it onto his belt before the burn reached its peak. This hadn't been successful in the past, which had placed telling scorch marks upon his armor.

Once out of his room, he hurried to the mess hall and inhaled a bowl of stew before looking for Sarael.
 
It was shortly after Lucian had finished eating that he was found by Sarael, rather than the other way around. The elven man smiled to him as he approached. "I hope the night's rest treated you well," he said. "I spoke to Sylvire last night. She's agreed to speak with you this morning, so if you're ready now, I can take you to her."

He gestured for Lucian to follow, and led him out of the mess hall and up into the temple's higher floors. The stone staircase spiralled up to a large library, filled with books of all shapes and sizes. Whilst large, it was not as magnificently vast as one might have expected from an ancient order of such a calibre.

A robed woman was seated in a reading chair across the room, but the library was otherwise largely empty at this hour. The woman smiled as Lucian and Sarael entered, rising to greet them. "Welcome, Knight of Sozo. I am Sylvire. It is truly a pleasure to welcome one from your time here, though you have my sincerest condolences for the news you have received already. Please, sit. I understand you have questions, and I will answer them all to the best of my ability."

Sarael nodded his head to each of them in turn. "I will leave you to speak. If you have further need of me, Lucian, you can find me on the floor above."

With that, he departed, leaving the two alone to converse in private.
 
At first, the knight had no words. He was standing in front of a legend among legends, the savior of his world even if his corner of it had not been spared. He felt his cheeks flush. He had barely conversed with his own queen. How was he supposed to speak to Sylvire, of all people?

Stiffly, he made his way to the chair across from the woman. He gave a bow before he allowed himself to sit. "It's an honor," he told her, smiling gently. "I never thought I'd get the chance, especially with this kind of conversation. Thank you."

He took in a breath and grit his teeth. "I... it's a difficult subject. I'm not sure if Sarael has given you the details, but I've come to a crisis of faith." He reached for his sword, and with the same swiftness as before, placed it between himself and the ancient hero. It glowed briefly, letting off enough heat that Lucian could feel it on his face. "You may well know of the oath the Sozo knights take to the Light, which binds us through our spellswords. Lately I have... broken the oath," he told Sylvire. "By entering a relationship with a vampire. I can't... I can't use the sword anymore, and I'm conflicted."
 
Sylvire listened to Lucian speak without obvious reaction, simply nodding her head. When Lucian placed the sword on the table, she gestured towards it. "May I?" she inquired. With Lucian's assent, she lifted the blade in her hands, examining it. "I am aware of the oath of your order," she continued after a moment. "But not its specifics. What tenets did you swear to abide by, when you took the blade?"

A pause. "Particularly, which tenet forbids this relationship?"
 
"I've gone over it a thousand times in my mind. 'Temptation of the corrupt,' is the one I've singled out. It's treachery to allow myself to be knowingly bewitched or coaxed by an unholy being."

Every time he spoke his shame exemplified itself in the pink of his cheeks. "It's several long passages, and that's the only one I could find to make sense."
 
"And do you consider yourself to have been bewitched?" Sylvire prompted. "Do you feel as though this vampire has drawn you away from the Light? In and of itself, engaging in relations with a person of a darker nature is not, in my interpretation, to stray from the Light. Dangerous, yes, and perhaps ill advised - to love one who treads a dark path is to risk becoming blind to their evils. But it is not always so. Have you turned a blind eye to evil acts committed by them, or committed any yourself at their influence?"
 
"He said he never used any spells on me, though he was able. I don't remember feeling like I was beneath a spell. I thought everything was fine until he told me about himself anduntil I witnessed the type of magic he used- hemomancy. He committed crimes, that much he told me, but he said it was to protect himself. I attacked someone to protect him, too. Never hurt them, but I acted. Not at his command, but of my own volition. I... don't even know if this person was evil. He just attacked Arien."
 
"Little in the way of magic is inherently evil," Sylvire noted. "The application of that magic is what determines its morality. The same applies to this Arien's nature as a vampire. It is not his affliction, nor his magic, but his actions that define him. This assailant may have had knowledge that you did not, but even so, protecting your lover from what you saw as unprovoked violence is no act of evil, that much is certain."

The sorceress fixed Lucian with a searching gaze for several long moments before speaking again. "Do you love him?" she asked simply.
 
Lucian paused, jaw hanging open as he tried to get a noise out. His palms flipped upward upon his lap, then closed tightly into fists. "I'm not... sure about love. Not yet. But I do want to see him again. I want to know more abut him, and I want... I want to get to that point that I could call it love."

The knight raised his eyes, looking at the elf. "But I do not want to betray my faith as its last survivor. My people are gone forever, Sylvire."
 
"One cannot betray the Light by loving, child," Sylvire answered with a comforting smile. "Love is an expression of the Light. So too is to care for another. These things are not betrayals. Were they to lead you to commit foul acts, to go against your tenets, then yes. But even were you to care for the darkest and foulest being of this world, that would not be a betrayal, nor would it be wrong. Tragic, perhaps, but not wrong."

She set the sword down on the table again. "Your blade senses your crisis. It senses that you believe you have been led astray. You do not wish to believe it, but you fear it so greatly that you have become convinced at the back of your mind that it is so. But it need not be the case. Three paths lie before you. The first path is the easiest, in some respects, and the hardest in others. To follow this path, you put the vampire from your mind. You accept that whatever might have been between you is no more, and pursue your faith, leaving this chapter of your life behind you. The second and third path both lie with the vampire, and are dependent on the truth of his nature. If he is as you hope, and is not an enemy of the Light - even if he has wronged, even if his deeds are dark - if he is redeemable, then that is your path. To bring him to the Light. Resolve to do this, accept that he is flawed as all beings are, but guide him away from darkness. The third path comes only if, along the second path, you determine that the darkness within him cannot be quelled, or that the cost of doing so is too high. Should you come to this realisation, you must strike him down. Put an end to his evil, though it will hurt you to do so."

The sorceress raised her eyes from the sword to Lucian. "The Light is forgiving, Lucian. But your doubt weakens you. Your blade must accept your resolve, if you are to proceed down any of these paths. You must believe that what you are doing is right. Should you turn away from him, you must believe that your inaction will not cause others undue suffering. Should you pursue him, you must believe that he can be brought to the Light, and that you will be the one to do it. Should you hunt him, you must believe that he is deserving of the death you bring. You must believe in your cause, and in yourself. Do you understand?"
 
The weight of Sylvire's words pressed down on Lucian heavily, yet at the same time, it gave him strength. His eyes dropped down to the sword between them as his choices ran through his head. It wasn't a hard decision, was it?

Ari's words echoed through his head, mirroring Sylvire's. For his entire life, he had been taught a strict regime, raised to think that betraying them was the end of everything he'd ever known. Now, a legend of his realm, her descendant, and even a demigod was telling him that it was wrong.

Hesitantly, Lucian rose his hand and hovered it over his sword. He rose his eyes to meet Sylvire's, flaring with a growing intensity. "You couldn't be more right. I know I can't turn away from him now, but that doesn't mean turning from my faith. I can follow both... I will find a way."

Decision made, the knight grabbed the sword. No sooner had he made contact did a fierce power surge through him. He tried to let go, but like an electric shock, it kept his grip like a vice. He grit his teeth as fire exploded beneath his skin, making its way up his arm and into his chest. He felt it grip his heart, flood it, and bloom. As soon as it started, it died, but Lucian felt a familiar presence with him that he hadn't felt in quite some time.

The knight wheezed and coughed once the event subsided. He stared at Sylvire again, overwhelmed.

"I... I think that worked."
 
Sylvire smiled warmly. "I am glad," she said, then chuckled. "I would have hated for all that advice to go to waste, should I have misinterpreted the nature of your blade. But it seems you have your answer. What will you do now?"
 
"I... I need to leave at once. I need to find him," said the knight, standing up swiftly. "I... thank you. I've found all the answers I needed. Always, I knew you were a hero, but now... you're so much more." He bowed, then turned to hurry out of the library.
 
"Lucian," Sylvire rose, calling after him. "Speak with Sarael before you depart. He may be able to arrange for you a swifter means of travel than foot, for a portion of your journey at least. And good luck. Go in the Light."
 
Lucian swiveled on his heel and headed in the opposite direction to the floor above in search of Sarael.
 
Lucian would find Sarael in a large, open room on the floor above, conducting a small class of apprentices in a class on spellcasting in combat. The elven mage, after speaking with him briefly, had directed him back out to the courtyard to find Ari.

"You're going to kick yourself," he'd warned, laughing. "But I think you can be forgiven for the mistake, considering that even after just shy of five years here, the concept still strikes me as magnificently absurd. Ari will be able to help you get to the nearest airport, where a large metal tube with wings can fly you across the continent at terrifying speeds. He's from this realm, so he understands it better than I."
 
as written by Script, Tiko, Dashmiel, and Lobos...

Elante was crossing the Vestibule with an armful of books that had been delivered that morning from Academia Celestia when hearing the creaking of the doors to the Inner Sanctum gave him pause. Curious as to who had been venturing into the temple's heart so early in the day, he turned to observe as the doors opened, curiosity shifting to concern at the unusual slowness of their movement.

As the first unknown figure stepped into view, the young mage's eyes widened, and he dropped the books to the floor with a clattering. A wave of one hand conjured an arc of luminous golden swords into being around him, blades pointed towards the strangers as they emerged.

"Stop where you are!" he called out, gesturing with his other palm as he did so. The air in front of him rippled as he formed a faintly shimmering translucent barrier in the air between him and them.

Rolando responded with equal swiftness and reflex. As the mage’s conjuration sprang to life so too did he. Something stayed Rolando’s hand though from unsheathing his blade. The man before him was both a stranger, and yet familiar all the same. The clothing, the tilt of his voice and the wave of his hand. His intellect had yet to piece together what his subconscious knew to be familiar, but his instincts told him this man was no agent of the void.

The sound of a single footfall on the stone directly behind Elante, and the scuff of leather against stone was the only warning that one of the intruders now flanked him.

"Do not harm them," Rolando warned, even as Elante voiced his own warning and the pairs words echoed as one.

The mage stiffened at the sudden presence at his back, but when words came instead of a blade, he held his ground and made no aggressive moves.

Asher’s eyes had widened, but the sudden appearance of blades was met with a twist of the wrist, and the rattle of chains sounded. Springing ahead of Aeldric as he noticed Rolando landing ahead, he stood in his comrade’s stead as the shield between friend’s and the threat, whirling both ends of his unusual weapon, the dark skinned man’s face serious.

“Who are you?” He snapped back, eying the golden swords warily.

Aeldric barely had a chance to register Rolando’s initial step, before things went south. Still holding his pendant on his sword arm, and with his allies already prepared to attack if needed, he instead took to trying to think the situation through.

Like Rolando, his subconscious also felt like something that should have been familiar was out of place.

As he raised his pendant before him in the direction of the familiar visage and received no response from it, he also concluded that they were not in the presence of one of the Void’s.

Slowly, so as to not aggravate the situation, he returned it to it’s place around his neck and tilted his head to the side as he regarded their adversary.

“Steady friends…,” he proclaimed as he took a couple of paces forward, stopping beside Asher.

“Y-you’re...a man?” he asked incredulously.

"Might I inquire into the peculiar obviousness of your observation?" Rolando asked Aeldric from behind Elante.

“I - what?” Elante’s readied retort to Asher’s question was derailed by Aeldric’s exclamation, his face a mask of confusion. “You’re the intruders here, who are you?” The swords hung static in the air, but with a subtle twitch of his finger, Elante extended his barrier around to cover his rear.

“I hope I’m forgiven, but sometimes even I wonder about It’s sense of humor,” replied Aeldric to Rolando, his tone flabbergasted. The seeming joke’s punchline only a matter of time away from becoming self-evident.

Catching the spinning blades after yanking their slack in, he lowered the wicked looking edges before taking a closer look at the man, his jaw dropping. “Elan...where did your breasts go?”

Before any further inquiries could be exchanged, phantom forms began to appear within the vestibule drawn by the disturbance of energies throughout the temple. The first to make himself known was a winged figure, coalescing into being in the air above the confused confrontation. Peregrine took a moment to take in the unfolding scene - tense, but seemingly not hostile - before calling out. “What’s going on, Elante?”

He was quickly joined by both Selwyn and Gawyn, the kethrian sorceress and cordelian prince taking up wary stances as they formed in the air at Elante’s side, the former facing back at Rolando and the latter towards Aeldric and Asher. In response to Peregrine’s question, Elante shook his head. “I’m… not entirely sure,” he said, staring in disbelief at Asher upon his question.

Rolando's eyes shifted from Elante to the phantoms, and back again. Peregrine, Selwyn, Gawyn? He knew his history well. Had they failed? Had they joined the other spirits within the Well of Souls? Outwardly he remained a statue of calm reservation as he rejoined his comrades, appearing beside Aedric as swiftly as he had appeared behind Elante moments earlier.

"I don't suppose the Light left you a guidebook?" he inquired of Aeldric.

“If only…” replied Aeldric with a shake of his head. His gaze also shifted to regard the phantom’s, and roamed over Elante once more. Being better versed than his companions on the many facets of the Light, he thought he knew what was going on, though not why this turn of events would have been It’s will.

Once again, his personal wishes had to take a secondary concern in his life, for it was Light’s will that placed them here, and not in the aid of their friends as he’d hoped. A bitter sigh escaped his lips as he addressed everyone.

“I--” he began, but quickly shook his head, stunned as the enormity of what had transpired sunk in. The presence of these manifestations of their historied past could only mean a handful of things, and it pained him to think what they could have achieved in their own home had they not been turned from their purpose.

Gathering himself and standing straight, he began once again. “I am Aeldric Gunnarson, Grandmaster of the Elysian Vanguard, and Light’s Will,” he proclaimed, his statement punctuated by a flare of light from the pendant around his neck.

Rolando opting to follow Aeldric's lead introduced himself as well. "Rolando Alvarado Cabrera Elizondo, Grandmaster of the Elysian Vanguard.”

“Asher Ja’ing, Grandmaster of the Elysian Vanguard,” The Hafirjan native tipped his head slightly.

“Grandmasters..?” Elante’s confusion only deepened, but it was becoming clear that though these were strangers, there was something amiss here far beyond simple deceit. With a baffled shake of his head, the mage waved his hand to dismiss the luminous swords. “I’m Elante Vadrillion, Elder of the Elysian Vanguard. Although you all seem to already know …” he hesitated, eyeing Asher and Aeldric in particular “... a version of me, you’re all strangers to me.”

“Yes...of course we would be…” murmured Aeldric. “As one facet darkens, we are turned to another to continue to shine Light’s will, is that what I’m supposed to understand?” he asked no one in particular.

“Perhaps we should be brought before the Circle of Elders, there’s obviously much to explain. Clearly the Void’s blight has not advanced that far here, but the Light would not have brought us without a reason…,” he trailed off, already lost in his own thoughts.

“The other Elders are away from the temple at present,” another voice cut across the Vestibule as at the far end, the robed figure of Sylvire Nasazura strode into view. “But those of us that remain stand before you.” At her side walked Arrow, the knight’s hand resting on the hilt of his weapon as the two of them approached. Elante flashed the pair of them a relieved smile before turning back to the newcomers. And they weren’t the only ones to be arriving in the Vestibule. A few other faces - some familiar to the newcomers, some not - were responding to the spirits’ detection of unknown presences in the temple, emerging onto the walkways overhead or from the doorways leading deeper into the temple proper.

“Perhaps it would be for the better if we spoke in privacy,” Sylvire continued, before casting a quick glance around the room. “Arrow, Sarael, Akosua, Shelby, and Oriel, accompany Elante and I to speak with these newcomers in the Inner Sanctum,” she instructed, gesturing for the group to proceed back through the doors at their back.
 
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