First Blade," Elara whispered, her voice shaking as he pointed a trembling finger upwards. "Look."
High above, in a tier of the arena that seemed carved from solidified virtue, was a host of beings of light. They were radiant, beautiful, and terrible, their forms singing a harmony that made the Elythrii's hearts ache with longing. They shone with the warmth of nurturing suns, the gentle strength of growth, the perfect order of a sublime melody.
What caught the attention of the Elythrii was a faint connection these beings had with the Archai. They could sense a sort of relationship and could not understand its origin.
"The Celestial choir," Fury said, following their gaze. His voice was uncharacteristically flat. "His fan club. I saw countless others like them in his court. What is funny is that today they do not celebrate his victory but his loss. So you see, when I tell you that creation is messed up."
