Chapter 30 – Wings of the Dawn
The fires of Luthmere still smoldered as Jean entered the Temple of the Skyborne—an ancient, forgotten shrine carved into the cliffs just north of the ridge. It was here that her mother once brought her as a child, whispering of old legends, forgotten relics, and the wings of gods.
Now, it was time to awaken one.
Silvia stood watch at the entrance while Whitney followed Jean through the narrow, dust-choked corridors. At the heart of the temple was a massive chamber, its ceiling open to the stars. In the center, bound by divine chains, was a relic older than the clan itself.
A great winged construct—half armor, half living aura—its form buried beneath centuries of stone and silence.
Jean approached, the golden scabbard at her side glowing faintly.
She knelt and whispered:
"Celeste, hear me. Your emissary calls. The world falters. The dragons stir. And my brother marches to bring darkness upon us all."
A breeze stirred within the sealed temple.
Then—a voice, clear as crystal and deep as the sky.
> "Child of Light. Daughter of Flame. Do you still seek to carry the sun on your back?"
Jean's heart pounded. "Yes. I will not run from my destiny."
The chains cracked.
Stone shattered.
The relic stirred.
It rose—an ancient divine warframe: Wings of the Dawn, forged by Celeste herself for Martin Luther during the first Dragon War. Massive metallic wings unfurled from its back, shimmering with radiant sigils. Twin hilts extended from the shoulders—blades of aura that only the chosen could wield in flight.
Jean stepped forward as the construct opened.
"Let me carry your light," she whispered.
And it answered.
Armor wrapped around her like sunlight. The wings folded to her back, fusing with her aura as if they'd always belonged.
She stood transformed—Emissary Ascendant.
Whitney stared, awe in his voice. "You wear the sky."
Jean turned, her voice glowing with divine resonance.
"No more delays. We fly to Gildcrest."
Outside, Silvia and her soldiers looked up to see the sky split with radiant fire as Jean Luther soared into the clouds, flanked by golden wings and lightning storms.
A storm was coming.
And the Light now flew at its heart.
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