The dinner was amazing. The flavors danced across Riku's tongue and made him feel warm. Funny... how a dish he's had quite a lot in his life could bring him more comfort than it had in years.
Maybe it wasn't the food itself—it was the people around the table, the laughter between bites, the quiet sense of relief that, for once, they weren't fighting for their lives.
Plates clinked, cups emptied, and the table slowly fell into that pleasant silence of satisfaction. Just as Riku leaned back, a soft knock came at the door.
Renjirō stretched. "I think that's it." He opened the door and out there was a delivery man. His shirt boldly stating where he was coming from.
"Kanzawa's Tailoring Hall"
Damn? The outfit's already here?! Riku was surprised, but then he remembered what Renjirō said.
No matter the situation... If Mr. Kanzawa says it'll arrive at a certain time, it will arrive at a certain time. Dr. Tsukimura wasn't kidding,huh?
When Renjirō returned, he carried a square, carefully wrapped box in his hands.
Renjirō said, setting it before Riku with a small smile. "Didn't I tell you?"
Riku blinked, then gave a small laugh, shaking his head. "Guess so."
His fingers brushed the lid as he studied the neat wrapping, feeling a twinge of surprise that quickly melted into appreciation. He loosened the ribbon and lifted the corner of the box just enough to see the faint glimmer of dark fabric within.
Before he could look further, Renjirō's tone grew firmer. "That's enough for now. Everyone, get some rest. Riku, especially you. You'll need to wake up early tomorrow."
The weight in his words made Riku instinctively close the box and nod. "Got it."
Chairs scraped softly against the floor as everyone rose from the table, yawns and goodnights exchanged as they drifted to their respective rooms. Riku carried the box with him down the quiet hallway, the air tinged faintly with wood and incense. He had just pushed open his door when two sets of footsteps followed after him.
He turned, eyebrows raised. "Uh… you guys need something?"
Akio crossed his arms, his expression unreadable as usual. Mei smiled faintly, though her eyes held a different weight.
"Not really," Mei said, tilting her head as she slipped inside without waiting for permission. "We just… wanted to talk."
"About what?" Riku asked.
Akio stepped forward. "We're just a little worried, man. I mean... you're still new to all this. Dr. Tsukimura normally takes me, Mei, or Ms. Uro to these hearings. Even then, we don't contribute much. But this next one is all about you. You'll be forced to speak up a lot. You sure you'll hold up?"
Riku sighed. "I don't know. But he picked me for a reason. I'm just coasting along at this point."
Mei spoke up. "I don't mean to sound rude. But you're not even a fully-fledged Mantrik yet. You don't have your license yet."
Riku turned to her, pausing for a quick second before speaking. "Dr. Tsukimura says it's a guarantee that they'll grant me the status of a Mantrik."
Mei blinked, her smile faltering. "You're kidding."
Riku shook his head. "Nope. That's what he told me."
Akio's arms finally uncrossed, his mouth tugging into a wry half-smile. "Honestly? Doesn't surprise me. I mean, you summoned Kapaala. And you didn't just survive the Silent God incident—you helped end it. Most novices would only dream of doing what you did. That's the kind of thing they don't ignore, no matter how new you are."
Mei looked between the two of them, her skepticism softening into something closer to acceptance. She let out a small sigh. "When you put it like that… yeah, I guess it makes sense. Still feels crazy, though."
"Crazy's been the norm lately." Riku muttered, earning the faintest laugh from both of them.
Akio leaned against the doorframe. "So, if they're really gonna recognize you… what then? You'll be given the choice to choose any of the Five Authorized Concords. You plan on staying with us in the Moonless Court, or eyeing one of the other Concords?"
Riku hesitated, running a hand along the smooth surface of the box in his arms. "I've thought about it. Honestly, I want to stay here—with you guys. This already feels… I don't know, right. But I guess we'll see what happens tomorrow. Whatever the outcome, though—" he glanced between them, his voice steadying. "I'll definitely stick by your side. One way or another."
Mei's lips curved into a small, genuine smile. Akio gave a quiet nod of approval. The heaviness in the air eased, replaced by something warmer.
"Alright," Mei said softly. "Guess we can live with that."
"Good," Akio added, pushing off the frame. "Someone's gotta keep you in check."
They traded faint smiles; the kind only shared between people who'd survived something together. Then, with little more to say, they each drifted off to their rooms, the quiet of the Vault settling in once more.
Riku lingered at his doorway a moment longer, clutching the box with the midnight fabric inside. For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel like an intruder in someone else's life.
-------
Riku was up at the crack of dawn. He sat up from his bed and stretched for a bit, trying to shake off his tiredness and gather strength for whatever it was he had to face today.
After finishing up his morning routine, he went to the main hall of the Vault, where Dr. Tsukimura and Ms. Uro had stood, looking like they were in the middle of a conversation.
Renjirō noticed Riku walking in. "Ah, you're up! Great! You seem ready."
"I... think I am." Riku replied.
Renjirō notices the hesitation in his voice. He walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Look... I understand that I'm asking a lot from you. I'm sorry... It's-"
Riku blurted out. "No, this is fine! I'm alright! I want to do this and... it seems like me being there is beneficial. I can handle it."
Renjirō's eyes widened slightly, before his lips curved upward into a smile. "Thank you... Truly."
Sayaka watched from the table, mindlessly drinking sake from a cup. "It's so sweet, I can feel the diabetes from here. Now get that outfit on from Kanzawa's before I fall asleep, Riku."
Riku straightened himself, taking the box and going to change. "Right! Yes ma'am!"
Inside, he unwrapped the fabric with deliberate care, each fold revealing more of the deep, midnight hue. The first piece he drew out was the coat — ankle-length, its surface so dark it could almost be mistaken for black until the faint sheen of navy revealed itself beneath the light. He ran a hand over the silver-thread trim and caught a glimpse of the crimson inner lining. When it shifted, it flashed like blood against shadow.
Piece by piece, he changed. The fitted shirt clung close to his frame, breathable and firm, like a second skin meant to ground the weight of the coat. The trousers hugged his legs, catching faint blue when he moved — not flashy, just enough to remind him this wasn't his old torn shorts and shirt. The boots were last — heavy, leather, the steel buckles catching faint light as he tightened them. He stomped once to test them, the sound sharp against the quiet floor.
Finally, he slipped into the coat, letting the hem brush against his calves. The structured shoulders squared his stance, and when he lifted his chin toward the mirror, the high collar framed his face in a way that made him look… not quite like himself. Not the Riku who once rushed to class, late and tired, but someone who stood between scholar and reaper. Someone who belonged here.
He adjusted the collar, swallowed, and murmured, "Huh. Not bad… but it's gonna take some getting used to."
As he walked out, two other doors creaked open, with Akio and Mei walking out of them.
Akio leaned against the frame, eyes narrowing as he scanned Riku up and down. "Damn. You clean up better than I expected."
Mei appeared beside him, blinking in surprise before her lips curled into a small grin. "I was ready to laugh… but Mr. Kanzawa seems to have shown you some pity."
Riku turned halfway, tugging the coat just enough to let the crimson lining flash. "Guess Kanzawa knows his stuff."
Renjirō, who had followed them down the hall, paused to take in the sight. For once, his expression softened, pride glinting in his gaze. "Good. Now you look like someone who belongs at the table."
Sayaka's voice called faintly from the hall, dripping with sarcasm. "About time. I thought we'd have to parade him in there in his pajamas."
Riku rolled his eyes, though he couldn't hide the small smile tugging at his mouth.
-------
The walk to the hearing was long. Longer than the walk to Mr. Kanzawa's Tailoring Hall.
"How far is this place?" Riku asked.
Renjirō adjusted his collar as they turned a corner. "Not far. The hearing is at the Astral Tribunal, here in Renshō. Every nation in the Sastra Palimpsest has one. Think of it as both courthouse and council hall, where decisions that ripple across our world are made. You're lucky. Had this hearing taken place in any of the other nations, we'd be traveling for days.
"The Astral Tribunal…" Riku murmured the name, trying it on his tongue.
"Address is simple enough. Three Pillar Avenue, Central Renshō. Hard to miss—just look for the tallest spire and the banners of the Five Concords hanging from its walls." Renjirō said.
After several more blocks, the city around them seemed to pull away as the structure revealed itself. The Tribunal towered over everything, its facade carved from pale stone that shimmered faintly under the morning sun. Intricate constellations were etched along its archways, threads of gold catching the light so that the building almost looked alive. Its sheer size dwarfed even the largest temples Riku had seen back home, and the great banners of the Five Authorized Concords hung high, each one fluttering in the breeze like silent declarations of power.
The first banner he saw was filled with a dark blue and violet hue, with a large insignia of a silver scale beneath a crescent halo. The Nobles of the Moonless Court. Riku couldn't help but let a smile etch on to his face upon seeing it.
The next banner was mainly colored in black, with a slight pink hue along its edges. The symbol that made it stand out was that of a falling black lotus over a bleeding singularity. Its vibe was odious; Riku's stomach tightened
The third banner was bursting with the warm colors of orange and yellow, with white complimenting it from the corners. The emblem that it bore was a sunburst eye wreathed in script. Compared to the last one, this gave a warm and bold aura to Riku.
The penultimate banner held white and scarlet hues, with black leaking from the sides. The insignia from this one was that of a hollow vein wrapped by surgical wire.
Riku quirked an eyebrow. What kind of horror move crap is this?
He then moved his eyes to the final banner. This one was dyed in and red and gold, with a jagged gray line traveling down the middle. The symbol on this one was a twin-edged blade wrapped in crimson cloth.
They all exuded their own atmospheres, each telling a long-entwined road of ideals and history.
"This is our order. It's big, messy, and heavy. But it's ours. That's why we do what we can to uphold it." Renjirō said.
Riku nodded. "I'll be meeting these guys?"
Renjirō nodded. "Not just meet. They'll be clamoring about you. Don't worry. Stay close to me."
-----
Inside, the vastness continued. The floor beneath them was polished obsidian, so smooth it mirrored the vaulted ceiling, where star-like crystal lanterns glimmered in shifting constellations. The quiet hum of voices carried through the entrance hall, punctuated by the scratch of quills and the shuffle of robes.
"…Holy hell," Riku whispered without meaning to.
Renjirō's mouth curved faintly. "Most first-timers say that."
Renjirō approached the marble counter at the front, where a receptionist in neat uniform sat with a thick ledger. He gave their names and the purpose of their visit. The receptionist checked quickly, then handed Renjirō a slip embossed with silver script.
"Room Forty-Seven," the receptionist said, bowing. "It will open directly into the Grand Hall when your turn is called."
"Thank you."
Renjirō guided Riku through a side corridor. The smaller chamber they entered was still large enough to feel intimidating: stone benches lined the walls, and a door at the far side glowed faintly with an intricate seal.
Riku's palms were damp. He flexed his fingers. "So… this is it, huh?"
"This is it," Renjirō confirmed. He placed a reassuring hand on Riku's shoulder. "Steady yourself. Listen first, speak carefully, and remember—you've already done more than most your age."
Before Riku could reply, the sealed door slid open with a low, resonant chime. A voice echoed through the chamber, formal and unyielding:
"Renjirō Tsukimura of the Moonless Court, and the respondent, Riku Shinsora. You are summoned to the Grand Hall."
The two stepped forward, crossing the threshold together.
The Grand Hall swallowed them whole. A massive circular table dominated the center, its polished surface catching the glint of dozens of watching eyes. And looming above it all were the raised seats of authority. There were four majestic chairs, each carved uniquely to embody the dominion of their respective nation—and at the center, higher than the rest, a single throne that radiated quiet supremacy.
Riku felt a chill climb his spine. He swallowed hard. But before he could birth his next thought, the same voice that admitted them in resounded once more.
"Madame Zoya of the Black Petal Covenant, and her ward, Isha Dhawan. You are summoned to the Grand Hall."
Two figures entered.
Madame Zoya moved first, tall and slender, her midnight robes trailing like spilled ink. Her skin was the color of burnished bronze, her face angular yet arresting, and her lips painted the faintest shade of violet. Every step of hers was deliberate, as if gravity bent differently for her. On her breast gleamed the insignia of her Concord: a black lotus in freefall, its petals unraveling into the bleeding maw of a singularity.
At her side walked a younger figure, perhaps only a few years older than Riku. Isha Dhawan. Her skin was olive and her hands were smooth, almost untouched. Her uniform was tighter, cleaner, less ceremonial, but the insignia stitched at her shoulder mirrored Madame Zoya's. Isha's gaze swept the hall with quiet calculation, pausing on Riku for just a moment before flicking away, unreadable.
Riku's shoulders stiffened. That insignia alone made his stomach knot.
The herald's voice rang out again.
"Captain Liora Jade of the Visionaries of the Sun's Oath, and her wards, Rahil and Zia. You are summoned to the Grand Hall."
A woman in radiant saffron robes swept through the door, tall and broad-shouldered, her honey-brown skin glowing in the lanternlight. Her hair was silver despite her youth, cascading in a thick braid that swayed behind her like a comet's tail. Captain Liora Jade carried herself with the surety of one who had stared into the sun and not blinked. Upon her chest shone the insignia of her Concord: a sunburst eye, its iris ringed with curling script.
Her wards followed close — a pair of twins. Rahil, the brother, was wiry and sharp-eyed, his dark curls wild, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as though all of this pomp amused him. Zia, his sister, mirrored his features but not his mood; her hair was neatly braided, her gaze calm and assessing. Both wore robes marked with the sunburst insignia, embroidered in thread that shimmered gold and white with each movement.
Riku found himself blinking against the brightness of their presence, as though even the light in the chamber bent around them.
"Cheerful crowd," he muttered under his breath. Renjirō's lips twitched faintly, but he said nothing.
The herald's voice carried again.
"Captain Daya Arul of the Saints of the Hollow Vein, and her ward, Yurei. You are summoned to the Grand Hall."
From the door came a woman draped in crimson and ivory, her skin was deep umber, her eyes sharp as scalpels. Her hair was cropped close, showing the lines of ritual scars that crossed her scalp like carefully plotted diagrams. Captain Daya Arul's gait was steady, precise, as if each step was measured for efficiency. At her breast sat the grim insignia of her Concord: a hollow vein bound tight with surgical wire, a symbol that sent a prickling unease down Riku's arms.
Her ward followed: Yurei, a young anatomist draped in a long, high-collared coat that looked more like a mortician's garb than a Mantrik's attire. His skin was pale, his eyes faintly sunken, and the gloves on his hands were stained with ink and something darker. Where others looked alive in their introductions, Yurei looked… practiced, dissected, as though he'd already taken himself apart and only reassembled what was necessary.
Riku suppressed a shiver.
The herald announced once more.
"Captain Kree Vixen of the Guards of Judging Depravity. You are summoned to the Grand Hall."
The chamber grew noticeably quieter.
Through the threshold came a tall, statuesque woman whose crimson cloak snapped behind her like a banner in war. Her skin was pale as snow, her hair a burning orange cascade that framed her face in harsh lines. Her eyes — a searing amber — darted across the hall like blades sizing up their prey. She bore no ward at her side; the absence was as loud as a war drum. On her shoulder burned the emblem of her Concord: a twin-edged blade, its length coiled tight by crimson cloth.
Renjirō leaned in close to Riku's ear to whisper. "I'd try not to get on her bad side. She's... going through a lot right now."
"What happened?" Riku asked.
"She was meant to be the ward for the Guards today, but her Captain—Commander Varek—died from illness recently. She's been going through a lot." Renjirō replied.
Riku nodded. Loss. It wasn't something he could fully relate to, but he was damn close. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Tetsuya's comatose condition back at The Ecliptic Vault.
The captains and their wards were all seated at the large round table, each of them ready to discuss the giant hole Riku dug himself into. At this point, all he could feel was him swallowing his own saliva.
He looked up, back at the four chairs that loomed above the round table. Suddenly, light shone on each of the seats, followed by the herald's voice.
"The Four Rājapāla are now welcomed to the Grand Hall."
Riku turned to Renjirō, confused. "The who?"
"The Rājapāla are the leaders of the four great nations in the Sastra Palimpsest. They handle the affairs within the nation that they lead. Economy, domestics, and everything in between. They're very important." Renjirō said.
The herald's voice permeated the hall.
"From the realm of Kaigenryō—Rajapāla Asahi Nakamura."
A tall man stepped forth, his hair bound in a silver clasp, his robes the pale gray of mountain mist. His face was carved with sharp serenity, as though untouched by time. Each step seemed deliberate, weighed with centuries of duty. He took his seat at the eastern side of the round table, his gaze unwavering.
"From the realm of Virelya—Rajapāla Selene Callistra."
A woman of luminous bearing followed, her gown stitched with star-thread that shimmered even in shadow. Her skin held the pallor of moonlight, and her dark eyes mirrored endless constellations. She moved with a dancer's grace, her hands folded at her waist, and sat at the southern chair without a word.
"From the realm of Arakasa—Rajapāla Duryan Rathore."
The next figure entered with the weight of iron. His broad shoulders filled the hall, his cloak trailing like a stormcloud. His features were severe, sun-scorched and weathered, his beard streaked with bronze and gray. He bowed his head only slightly before lowering himself into the western seat, the air around him tense with restrained violence.
"From the realm of Zokhara—Rajapāla Zafira al-Qadiri."
She glided into the hall, her presence veiled yet impossible to ignore. Draped in layered silks of desert-gold and midnight violet, her eyes were lined with kohl, sharp as daggers. Her voice was never raised, yet her silence carried the weight of command. She sat at the northern chair, her fingers tracing the armrest like calligraphy on stone.
Riku was in awe. "Wow..." Each one of them radiated authority. Authority that just didn't exist back on Earth. None of this felt real, and yet it was the reality that Riku was now staring at.
He then tilted his head to the large throne that was in the center of it all.
"W-Who's that for?" he asked.
Renjirō smiled. "That's for... their boss if you will."
Riku began "Their boss? You mean...?"
Renjirō nodded. "The grand leader of the entire Palimpsest. The Shvara. He's an arbiter between factions, overseeing inter-regional conflicts. These people are the pillars that support our order, Riku. Without one of them, we crumble."
Before Riku could register the gravity of what Renjirō said, the herald spoke one last time.
"The Shvara is now welcomed to the Grand Hall! All rise for the Shvara of the Palimpsest, Arbiter Eternal of the Four Nations and the Sastra Palimpsest!"
The hall itself seemed to still. From the far archway, a figure appeared—neither youthful nor ancient, cloaked in the pale radiance of authority. Their face was ageless — the kind that made years meaningless. Their robes were of pure white trimmed with obsidian patterns that shifted like living scripture. Their crown was no diadem of gold, but a circlet of black steel set with a single fragment of starlight.
They ascended the dais above the round table and seated themselves upon the central throne, elevated above the Rajapāla, yet encircled with them in symbol of parity and balance.
The Shvara lifted a hand, and the herald fell silent.
The hearing had begun.