Auriel sliced through the sun-drenched clouds, her armour blazing as the golden light fractured across every plate. The wind roared past her ears in a steady rush while she angled her body, carving a clean path through the sky.
Below her, the storm clouds rolled and churned like vast living things, their dark edges flickering with inner fire. Every breath carried the clean, sharp taste of high altitude—sweet at first, then burning.
For a few precious moments, she felt completely alive—as if she had slipped into the very bloodstream of the world while it still glowed with its first morning.
The clouds peeled back ahead of her in slow, reverent waves, their underbellies turning molten gold as the full force of dawn poured through. Massive pillars of sunlight slammed down onto the land far below, each one striking like a divine decree.
The Mesa Crown erupted into view—a colossal plateau of radiant stone where shadows simply refused to exist.
Atop that shining table of rock sat Heliandor, the city that wore the sun itself as its crown. Towers of auric crystal spiralled upward in elegant arcs, every facet alive and throwing back the light in dazzling waves.
The clouds themselves seemed to hesitate at the city's borders, boiling and folding but never daring to cross into its domain. Even the fiercest storms appeared reluctant to touch the sanctum the Dawn had claimed.
From this height, the entire city revealed itself in perfect order. Concentric tiers rose one above the other, each ring protected by thick walls and linked by sweeping causeways of gold-veined stone. Luminescent rivers wound between the levels like living veins, feeding into great reservoirs that shimmered with steady inner power.
But Auriel's path did not lead to the lower districts. Her gaze fixed on the true heart of the city—the Crownspire Citadel that dominated the highest tier.
Its base drove deep into the luminous rock of the plateau while its peak rose above the sea of clouds themselves. Waterfalls and drifting veils of stardust veiled its grand form, while aqueducts threaded through hanging gardens and mist-filled courtyards.
She folded her momentum, spiralling once as she began her descent. The air grew thicker, warmer. The roar in her ears softened to a whisper. With precise control, she straightened her body and dropped the final distance, boots aimed perfectly.
Metal met stone with a crisp, ringing impact. Her knees flexed smoothly to absorb the shock, one hand briefly touching the ground for balance before she rose into her signature stance—shoulders squared, chin lifted, every line of her body radiating controlled power. The force of her landing sent a faint ripple through the surrounding flagstones.
She had arrived not in some grim training yard or barracks, but in the King's Garden—one of the true wonders of Lumeris.
The gardens unfolded like a private paradise tucked within the Citadel's embrace, open to the south where the land stretched away in endless golden light. Marble colonnades lined the terraces, their pillars wrapped in slow-climbing vines heavy with morning dew that sparkled like scattered diamonds. Calm pools of luminous Essence-rich water mirrored the sky perfectly, their surfaces only breaking when a gentle breeze passed over them.
Everywhere she looked, flowers bloomed in impossible colours. The air carried a sweet, clean fragrance that seemed to wash away the tension in her shoulders.
Groundskeepers moved barefoot along the winding paths, their hands making small, precise gestures as they guided threads of Luminary Essence into the soil. The light responded instantly, flowing beneath the roots and feeding each plant with gentle radiance.
As Auriel walked deeper into the garden, the Garden Sentinels inclined in silent acknowledgement as she passed.
These ceremonial knights stood like living statues among the flowers, their golden armour intricately chased with floral and astral patterns. Their cloaks, embroidered to resemble layered petals and studded with sunlit gems.
They offered silent, respectful bows as she passed, their movements precise and economical. Not a single word broke the peaceful quiet.
She continued along the main path.
The grand entrance to the Citadel proper rose ahead, framed by towering arches. And there, leaning casually against one of the pillars, waited an older man.
—— ❖ —— —— ❖ —— —— ❖ ——
Auriel approached him with measured steps, her armour still faintly warm from the flight.
He stood there, a head taller than her, with the relaxed posture of someone who had seen decades of service yet refused to let it weigh him down. He wore grey hair and a groomed beard along his jaw, and his silver-grey eyes still carried the sharp brightness of the Dawn's light.
"So," he said, voice warm with familiar teasing, "how goes the hunt for the Drake-Titan?"
Auriel shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the earlier awkwardness creeping back into her stance. She rubbed the back of her neck.
"I may or may not have been… distracted."
He let out a long, theatrical sigh. "What was it this time?"
She hesitated only a moment. "...The northern frontier. The Gorgur offensive. A dear friend of mine was fighting there. I couldn't just hover above the clouds and watch people die when I knew I could help. What would you have done in my place, Uncle?"
"Auriel," he said, the teasing gone from his voice now, "that is war. Soldiers fall and die in battle. That is the oath they swore—duty carried even into death."
"I cannot just stand there and watch," she replied, voice tightening as she walked past him toward the Citadel entrance. "Not when I have the power to stop it."
He caught up in three quick strides as they stepped from the bright garden into the cooler shadows of the grand hallway.
"Sweetpie—"
"Uncle!" Auriel snapped, eyes flashing with sudden heat as she shot him a glare.
He raised both hands in surrender, a small smile tugging at his mouth. "Sorry… Auriel." He cleared his throat with an exaggerated cough.
They walked in silence for several steps, their boots ringing against the sunstone tiles. The corridor stretched ahead, lined with motionless Knights of the Citadel. Their mirrored armour caught fragments of light, making them look like living statues with faintly glowing eyes beneath their crested helms.
"You cannot think that way if you mean to rule one day," her uncle continued, his tone growing more serious. "Ruling is not the grand adventure most people imagine. A true sovereign does not see the glory. They only see the curse that comes with it."
Auriel slowed her steps, her earlier frustration easing into quiet thought. The weight of his words pressed against her mind.
He continued, voice softening with memory. "Before your father became King, I ruled as Regent of Dawn. When your grandfather passed—Luminae bless his soul—your father was still Supreme Commander and couldn't leave the front lines. Those years taught me the truth of that burden. The weight of countless lives resting on your strength alone… it changes how you see everything."
Their path opened into a vast hall where soaring arches rose high overhead. Ancient sun runes and detailed mural reliefs covered every surface, showing past monarchs kneeling before the Dawnfire. Beneath the arches stood rows of kings and queens rendered in gold and glass, their carved eyes seeming to follow passers-by with solemn intensity, none of the figures smiled.
Auriel finally broke the heavy quiet. "But my father… he's not—"
"Your father has already accepted that curse," her uncle said gently. "He carries the weight of his people as though it were his own flesh and blood. He wears the crown not for pride, but because it is his duty to hold up the hopes of everyone who lives beneath the Dawn's light."
He looked straight ahead, his expression distant for a moment. "It is hard, Auriel. But when you walk the same path as your father—when your Vitalis burns as strong as the sun and you rise as Zenith—you will understand that burden too."
The light from their combined auras pushed outward, growing denser and brighter until the entire hall seemed to become a living pool of gold. The glow rippled and danced across the high ceiling like liquid.
Auriel's brow furrowed. "Even so, Uncle… I would rather throw away the title of Dawn Queen than watch my people die in a fate I could have prevented. If I do not at least try, then I have already failed them."
Her uncle stared at her for several long seconds. His serious expression cracked into a broad grin, and a deep, genuine laugh rolled through the hall.
"That's my Auriel!" he said, pride clear in his voice. "Still that same fire burning in your blood, just like when you were small. Good. That's very good. A ruler should never lose that spark. Don't ever let anyone tell you what you can and cannot do."
"Don't worry, Uncle," she replied, a reluctant smile tugging at her own lips. "I plan not to."
His grin slowly faded into something quieter, more thoughtful. The shift in his mood made the air feel heavier.
"But Auriel… remember this. Fate can be cruel, and sometimes unavoidable. Fate turns for no one—not for mortals, and not even for gods."
She blinked, caught off guard by the strange weight in his voice. The words settled in her mind like an omen drifting down through cold starlight.
His footsteps slowed to a stop. Auriel turned to face him.
"Speaking of fate…" he said, giving a small cough, "this seems like a good place for me to stop. You're nearly there—he'll be waiting for you, as always."
"You're not coming with me, Uncle?"
"Ahh—no, no." He waved a hand casually. "I have… important matters I need to attend to. Good luck, Sweetpie!"
Before she could protest, his form dissolved into a swirling cloud of stardust that drifted away on an invisible breeze. It was the same old trick he had never bothered to teach her. Not that she particularly needed it.
He always seems to get away at the last moment…