CHAPTER 13: FRACTAL
A building rose in layered platforms, each adorned with gardens, cypress trees, and ornamental shrubs that blended seamlessly into the rocky cliffs. Marble steps wound upward, and on those steps Siah sat alone, scowling at the sun.
"Tch. I can't believe I fell for Theal's threats. I should've known something was amiss."
His jaw tightened. "Theal is definitely hiding something. What did he do in the Capital that makes everyone think he's so great? He's talented, sure, but that's all he is."
Siah scratched the back of his head, frustration boiling. "Doesn't matter. My goal is to free Mother, no matter what. I'll deal with obstacles as they come." He threw himself back on the steps, shutting his eyes. "Hmph. What's taking that wench so long?"
---
"Asha, do not forget your role. When your little adventure is over, come back home."
"Mother, I told you—I have no interest in House Ardour's traditions." Asha rolled her eyes. "My goal is to leave this artificial planet and explore the worlds our ancestors once lived on."
"Such fantasies aren't possible." Her mother's voice sharpened. "There's a reason Crew County doesn't go wandering into the past. Their job is to only guard our Dyson planet your hopes of exploration are futile."
"You've never had any ambition," Asha snapped. "You sacrificed everything for the House, and all it gave you was a sickbed."
Her mother's expression turned to stone. "I don't regret my choices. You are still a child who knows nothing. You live under His Divinity's protection—cherish it."
"I've already made up my mind. I want to join Crew County. It's too late to stop me. Uncle already agreed. Don't interfere—I'm not a child anymore."
Asha leaned in, kissed her mother's cheek, and slammed the door on her way out.
The air shimmered. Light flashed, and a knight in scarlet armor and a red cloak appeared, kneeling. "My lady?"
Her eyes slid to him, then away. "No need. Cael is already watching her. That boy she's with has been entrusted with an important matter."
A smile crept onto her lips. "Cousin Zeal, you've never liked keeping secrets from me. Did something happen in the Capital?"
Sir Zeal Ardour nodded. "I noticed Matriarch Esme didn't look well when she came out."
"Was it just her?"
"No. All of them looked as though they had endured some kind of hardship."
Her smile widened, sly and venomous. "As expected of your sharp eyes, cousin. My sister's days are numbered. Soon we'll act. For now, keep playing knight. Cael is already suspicious."
"As you wish, my lady." Sir Zeal Ardour's form flickered and vanished.
Her gaze lingered on the gardens outside. Slowly, laughter bubbled from her throat until it burst, sharp and mad.
Her laughter rose soft at first, then tore loose, jagged and shrill, echoing against the carved stone walls. " For the Daughters of men leaving or staying—it makes no difference. I see why His Divinity's has been around for so long. And Esme… poor Esme iam such a bad sister. How could Miron be such a fool? Hahahaha!"
The halls trembled with the sound, wild and unrelenting.
---
Asha bounded down the steps, her boots striking sharp against the stone. She swung her foot at Siah's shoulder.
He jolted awake with a growl, rubbing his eyes. "Kick me again and I'll spend the night in your mother's chambers."
Her lips quirked. "If you do, you won't leave with your sanity intact."
For a moment he stared, then barked out a laugh. "You think that'll stop me? Mature women are exactly my type."
Asha shook her head, exhaling through her nose. "Clueless. You've never heard of the sickly glow of House Ardour's Daughters of Men, have you?"
His brows knit. "The what?"
"Come on." She didn't bother to explain further, only smirked as she strode ahead. "Jade's waiting in the city."
"I hope your friend isn't as crazy as you. I don't want to waste the next part of my life with another wench." He shoved her lightly off the step, then muttered, "And I won't be entering that thing again."
"This time we're using the Karman Line properly," Asha said mockingly. "Not sneaking in illegally—we'll take an Airssel and fly through it."
Her pace quickened as the gate loomed ahead. "Hurry. Jade hates waiting. If she leaves without us, we'll be footing the bill ourselves."
Together they passed beyond the Ardour Estate.
Fervor City sprawled before them in the afternoon haze—a labyrinth of crowded terraces and crooked alleys.
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Gourmand City – Eidolon Pantheon
The cathedral loomed above the city like a mountain of stone. Flying buttresses jutted like skeletal arms, pinnacles bristled against the sky, and spires lanced upward until they seemed to pierce the clouds. Below, the streets looked small, cowering under its shadow.
Sir Gael's gauntlet pressed against Theal's shoulder. "Inside waits the High Marshal. I cannot follow. Remember—whatever you do, do not meet his eyes."
Theal dipped his head in solemn thanks. "I'll never forget this."
A curt nod, a faint tightening of Sir Gael's jaw. "Go. An important figure shouldn't be kept waiting."
Theal's chest swelled with a storm of nerves and resolve as he stepped into the cathedral's vast hall.
Arches soared overhead, ribbed like the bones of some giant beast, their gilded edges glowing with sunlight that spilled in streaks of molten gold. At the far wall, a massive rose window erupted in a sunburst of turquoise, green, and yellow, light scattering across the marble floor like shards of a broken rainbow. Amber and gold hues bled through tall lancet windows, painting the nave in jeweled fire.
The nave breathed with silence. Polished pews stood in strict rows. Blossoms of pink, yellow, and violet clustered at the aisles, their fragrance an unexpected softness amid the grandeur.
And there—kneeling at the altar—stood the High Marshal.
Theal froze. His breath snagged in his throat. The man rose slowly, turning, and Theal's eyes dropped at once to the floor.
Snow-white hair spilled past the High Marshal's shoulders, catching the light with a faint silver sheen. Pale eyes, piercing even when avoided, carried the weight of something unearthly. His uniform was sharp black, pressed like iron, high-collared and studded with metallic buttons. The long cross-shaped blade in his hand gleamed, its hilt crowned with gemstones that caught the sunlight like captive stars.
Theal's stomach tightened. His palms dampened against his sides."Luca, why doesn't his presence crush me? The air is…light." Luca was silent.
The High Marshal's voice, low and measured, rolled across the hall. "Nothing in you speaks of someone capable of besting a status six Stillness."
Theal swallowed, tongue sticking to his teeth. "High Marshal… the story is embellished no Stillness was used."
"Do you count yourself the finest swordsman in Gourmand?"
Theal's head dipped lower. "I would not dare. The Knight Commander's legend alone would silence that dream."
The High Marshal's pale gaze lingered, unreadable. Then, he turned, lowering himself to the pew with unhurried grace.
"Your Knight Commander has been summoned. Truth is revealed only through obstacles. Prove yourself—show that your eye's will only see the Eidolon Pantheon through the slates of schism."
Theal's knees weakened, his breath shallow.
"Luca, what is he planning?"
Luca remained silent.
Theal clenched his fists. "I barely survived sparring against the First Lieutenant. They can't expect me to even breathe the same air as a status four knight Commander who has broken the restraints of the physical plane."
Behind him, the great doors of the cathedral groaned open. The sound reverberated like the creak of a tomb. Cold prickled Theal's skin, his hair rising with the chill.
He blinked awake, disoriented, body stiff against the altar stone.
"What—why am I here?" His voice
cracked. "Luca did something."
The High Marshal's shadow loomed above him, the faintest curl of a smile on his lips.
"You withstood a blow from your Knight Commander."
Theal's lungs seized. Cold sweat trickled down his neck. He tried to rise, but the High Marshal's hand pressed him down with effortless strength, as though pinning a child.
"You are but young yet. Secrets slip through eager hands. My mission was simple: to see if your will aligned with the Eidolon Pantheon. You have proven as much."
The High Marshal's grip tightened. "Now—let us start with the procedure. The slates of schism do not like making new friends."
Theal's breath hitched. His heart thundered. Words failed him. He lay frozen beneath that alabaster hand.