《Blood and Shadow》Judgement
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Morning came to him in a blink, and when Seth opened his craggy eyes, he found himself lying on the ground with a golden knife in his hand and the robes he'd worn the night before in tatters. Light filtered in through the glass double doors that led to his balcony, and with a groan, he twisted from the ground, stretching one hand out to block out the intruding rays, and sat up. The lacquered wood floor felt hard against his almost-rear bottom, and he looked down between his legs and found ten Sets of runes scrawled in varying sizes, all interconnected.
"Shit."
They were the very same symbol he saw when he dreamt. They'd followed him -- exactly what he hoped would never happen. The severity of it all dawned on him.
Judgement was fucking minutes away. The runes weren't a serious issue a day ago, and now they were. The emotions came flooding back— the fear, the doubt, and uncertainty. A single dream had undone nearly four years of hard work.
He glared down at the markings, his eyes scorching like small suns, but the longer he looked, the less anger he felt. Curiosity replaced anger, and his face eased, his pupils shrunk, and nearly passively, he observed.
The markings, there was something...lacking. Maybe if I added more glyphs, parameters like other runes did, more traditional runes…I could alter the simple function of fast healing. Make it better, make it more.
Perhaps, selective healing that consumes less energy, or maybe even create something else entirely.
He instinctively reached for the knife, his heart thumping with inspiration, vigor almost, and he pressed down to dig in a line, but in a sudden jolt of realization, he scuttled back, and the knife rippled out of his hand.
"What the fuck was that?"
His eyes wandered from his trembling hands to the wooden carvings.
"I'm fucked. So…fucking fucked." What would the gods think? What would Ellie think? How would I explain this to them? How would I even begin to explain everything?
Seth felt his mind spinning out of control, his breath grew more ragged, and his heart thumped drummed against his ribcage.
"Today of all fucking days!"
Seth sat for longer than he could remember at a child's pose, his fingers rousing his hair, thinking, muttering. It took a before he was calm enough and evaluate his options.
He was high up, one of the best inns in Brightmont, literarily minutes away from the temple. Since today was Judgement, every square inch of the upper ring would be patrolled, policed. After all, everyone was going to watch them… receive runes, become magic knights. Rogues got excited on days like these. Slipping out of the city would be near impossible. Even if he managed it somehow, he was famous now, and everyone would notice his absence at Judgement.
The alternative was to receive Judgement then? He shivered. That could be a death sentence…
Three quick knocks drew him from his thoughts.
"Master Seth, I have come to clean your rooms," a mousy voice filtered in. "Your Sister also asked me to tell you you're late. She and Lord Atar are by the carriage by the entrance steps?"
The maid? How much time had passed?
He cleared his throat and answered.
"Tell her I would be right down."
"Yes, Master Seth… but your room," she said. He could hear the hesitation. "I have to clean--"
"I think it's clean enough for another night," Seth said. "You should take the day off. It would mean a lot if you were at the square watching like everyone else in the Upper Ring."
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There was an informal tradition, almost, of cheering on the emerging knights. Off-duty soldiers came to see better men than themselves receive a touch of the divine, rich nobles came for potential matches and business partners, while the rest were there to ogle the new heroes and nab invitations to the parties. Noble and merchant houses with deep pockets threw the most lavish parties for their new knights. Noble knights were rare enough to make, and there were no guarantees they wouldn't lose their lives while serving.
"I…"
He could hear the hesitation in her voice, and he felt his breath catch, but he knew lowborns well enough to know her answer. She would not turn down a future knight. He felt slimy, almost, throwing his status around like that, but he was desperate.
"I will be on my way then," She started off but quickly stopped before she moved too far away. "Thank you, master Seth." Her voice was as tiny as a whisper.
Seth heaved a long sigh when he heard her footstep fade and ran his hand through his hair. He still had so much to think about, but there wasn't any time for that now. He hopped to his feet and grabbed his bed frame by the base. He tugged the hard, intending to pull it over the mark he made on the floor, but paused when his eyes caught a reflection of himself on his wardrobe mirror. He was in rags, his lower eyes dark with bags, and his clothing almost hanging in the air as he moved.
Just what happened last night? That was yet another question he, unfortunately, didn't have time to ponder. He had to go to the ceremony. The decision had already been made for him.
He pulled on the table and adjusted at the other end until he covered his bed and made his bed. As for the clothes, he shirked them off and tucked them under his bed, hoping to burn them later that night if he was lucky enough to get Fire runes or Light runes.
He shook his head at the other bit. Light runes? If I was so lucky.
He hurried to his wardrobe and pulled a grey robe and trousers his Sister had set out for him the afternoon before. It was customary wear for all Knight Candidates. They would remain grey until a god called them into their service. He threw it on, fluffed his hair before his mirror, slipped into his dark boots, and hurried out of his room. The Platform was thankfully unoccupied, and he took it directly down. He found his Sister and Atar waiting for him at a carriage by at the bottom of the Marble stairs, and he joined them inside after a quick greeting.
---
Atar yelled at the coachman to step on it, and just like that, they were off. Ellie sat across from me, her dress grey as his, and Atar wore azure blue to match the inside of his coach.
"What do you think he's going to get," he asked Ellie in a lazy drawl.
Ellie blinked for a moment before she found the words and chained them with a fake smile. "Light, like me, probably."
Seth saw the bead of sweat rolling down the side of her face, the worried creases barely visible on her dark skin. She was nervous, which made him even more nervous about Judgement.
"Two Uvu knights in one family, very unlikely. Almost unheard of, even," he said, tapping his chin. "No offense."
Seth shrugged. "I would settle to be an Igrit knight or Aqus, even Terra or Venta would be welcome." He never imagined himself an Uvu knight. It was too much attention and prestige. If the inquisitors didn't want him, the Emperor, The Light guard, or the church would—all those factions would pitch him against vampires, foes he'd rather avoid.
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"Any particular reason you don't want Light?" he asked. "I know the Priests would have you believe they are all good, but everyone knows Light is the best."
Flashes of the torture session with the vampire came back. "No reason," he muttered.
"Well, I think Fire suits you best," he declared to no one in particular. "I can see you just melting hordes of vampires with those hard eyes of yours."
Seth gave him another indulgent smile, and they rode on in silence.
The growing roar of the crowd was what told him that they were almost at the Cathedral. Seth suddenly felt his stomach tighten, the reality of the situation finally dawning upon him. Atar's coachman knocked the door moments later, and Seth, being closest to the door, pried it open to see a veritable sea of people cheering.
They must have been tens of thousands, all dressed in different colorful attires, each favoring different gods. The noise overwhelmed him, his face lost went white, and he froze. He struggled to process it. That he was standing here after all this time. Four whole years at the front completing dangerous missions and fighting the hordes of Vraphen. He couldn't help but feel like he'd been lucky, especially with the mission at the end.
But had he?
After what he'd dreamt up that morning, he felt like he should be running, not hurtling towards divine beings with very little tolerance for the profane runes and magic, yet he found coming back to the runes.
Certainly, he hadn't done anything? It was still all dreams and etchings. He'd hadn't unleashed any other profane magics, or else he wouldn't be standing there still? The gods were swift and ruthless in their policing of magic. Magic of all six elements or aspects were allowed, even darkness, though it is loathed and avoided by most for obvious reasons. He hadn't used the runes…yet, and he'd gotten in the General's service—a proxy for the Emperor, and gods by proxy—surely that was enough? They wouldn't begrudge him runes, would they? Not after everything he'd been through.
His pulse suddenly spiked, an overwhelming panic came over him. Blood rushed to his head, his vision doubled, and just when he was about to collapse, Ellie's soothing voice calmed him.
"Wave," she whispered. "They are all here to see us." And so he did, and he eventually remembered how to breathe, and his eyes panned down to the sea of adoring Mormons.
Their eyes were pure and bright, their faces stretched and strained with the hoots and laughing and cheering. They were genuinely happy to see them.
"Relax," Ellie said. "Remember, you deserve this. We all do."
Seth stayed on waving to the crowd for a moment longer before they turned to climb the stairs of the Cathedral. There were hundreds of them leading towards a structure of white stone, with tall spires and shimmering glass windows. Atar and the couch rolled off after he blew a kiss to Ellie, and both of them climbed the stairs together, joining hundreds of other knight candidates standing at the entrance.
Seth spotted Sera and Brick in front, among the other haughty-looking nobles. People from all over the Empire were there. Dark-skinned Chiawandeans like him, dragonkin with leathery skin, Neteans with glowing bronze skin, and central empire folk with pale skin and colorful hair.
The doors swung open after a short while, and among the last of the knight candidates that arrived, he spotted the two fighters that had tried to swindle them the day before.
Shit. The dinner. He'd completely forgotten about them. He cocked his head forward, trying to avoid them, but briefly, they touched eyes. They both looked absolutely furious.
Today just keeps getting better.
Ellie noted his expression and looked back to the two Dragonkin warriors, and gave Seth an amused smile despite the situation.
"It appears you've found yourself a new pair of rivals."
"I can't believe I forgot." He could believe it. He had other things on his mind, more important things.
"One dinner wouldn't have made them change their minds about us. We humiliated them in front of all of Brightmont."
"I was trying to be nice. I just thought I didn't need more enemies." He'd rather not have to deal with another miffed magic holder gunning for revenge.
"It was a worthy effort."
The lower halls of the Cathedral opened to them in all its shimmering glory after a short while of waiting. Rune work, brighter and more masterful than Seth had ever seen layered into nearly every inch of the walls. He saw a moving story play out on the high arching ceiling, held up monolithic pillars. The moving tapestry spanned the entire ceiling and was rendered out my rare Mirage Magic.
It was a story of humans running to gods in their hour of need. It was a tale of humans supplicating and of the gods showing them mercy. It was a story of the first six heroes who rose to power, the dark knight betraying them, and of the strongest surviving. It chronicled the birth of their nation, and it was an absolute sight to behold. It both humbled and baffled Seth.
To their sides snaked tall staircases that led into grander, closed portions of the building, reserved for only the gods chosen. The cathedral hall itself was filled with hundreds upon hundreds of seats divided into three sections by large glowing sigils etched into the very ground themselves. The foremost section was empty, reserved for the knights, then came the section for the holy men and army—the two pillars that kept Mormon great. The head of the noble houses came last. Hundreds of people were already seated in waiting, and their eyes fixed on the knights-to-be in a mix of respect and quiet admiration. Emotions, he feared, might not extend to him after he climbed those altars.
Sweeping his gaze downwards, Seth saw the head of each major house draped in colorful attires and sashes. Without direction, each knight found their place, divided by unspoken lines and army Generals.
General Savil's sat to the foremost right, then general Silver, Heddick, Thorn, and finally, Roko. The Generals sat at the front of each section, along with commanders and other officials in their armies.
The room grew deathly silent when the last of the knight settled down, and the doors behind them slammed shut.
Here it comes
Seth's heart drummed against his chest, and he looked up to the Altar elevated above them by several dozen steps at least, past the rugs of tasteful silk, traced with golden lines and the hundreds of white orb lights to the floating statues of the six gods. The marble barely captured their brilliance, the six Blessed Men and Women who first ascended and became gods.
Suddenly, in a flash, the Altar burst with multi-colored light, six powerful auras mixing and churning. First came heat, then the cold pressure of water, the dust and pull of the earth, the brilliance and purity of light, the ruthless gale and precision of wind, and the destructive lure of darkness.
Seth has sweating, his heart pumping hard in a strange mix of fear and excitement at the peak of the display, and in an instant, the lights melted into nothing, and left in their place were six priests in their God-chosen colors standing before the Altar.
The very air was thick with it-- tension, awe, and reverence. Seth could almost smell it, feel its crawl on his skin, and then the priests spoke as one.
It was nearly five hundred years ago today when the ritual began. In these very halls, on this very Altar, the first knights swore their allegiance to the gods and fought to protect everything just and good.
They presented their achievements and merits as champions of the gods and people and grew in power to face monsters that threatened us on all sides.
They triumphed, and to thank the gods for their gift, Mormon bound his burgeoning Empire to them.
To offer Men and Women like him the opportunity to serve.
Come, Chosen, and present your achievements.
Their words shook the Cathedral, and a long silence followed after before the first of the knights stepped forward. It was Savil's men that first approached. They were the first to return to the Holy capital, so they went first. With quick, jerky motions, they climbed the stairs of the Altar. Most of them stopped halfway up, patient to wait till their time came, but a single woman continued her climb. She was tall and square-shouldered with bright red hair, and she trembled slightly as she fell on her knees and presented herself to the priests.
All six of them, like some ritual, swept their hands in quick blurry motions, forming complex streams and structures of elemental light and created a magic circle under the waiting knight's feet. The circle exploded upwards up with a near blinding light, forming a cyclone of churning deific mana. The woman's eyes reflected light as she was swallowed up by it.
A moment later, she seemed to refocus, and the cyclone melted into nothing. One of the six statues' eyes lit up with a withering red heat, as did the eyes of the priest that stood in front of it. His face was leathery, his frame gaunt, yet his posture was sturdy, militaristic almost. He took a step forward, his flowing robes of red trailing behind him, and he lifted his fingertips, filling hem with powerful fiery mana that seemed to twist the very air around it. The woman had the broadest smile on her face, her eyes watery almost, and she peeled off her robe, stripping down to her undergarments, and exposed her athletic body for the priest to work.
And the bestowment was mesmerizing. He swept behind her, his hand moving in complicated blurs as he waved together intricate patterns. Embers and sparks flowed freely each time a line crossed another, and after several heartbeats of working, he pressed the pattern on her sternum. It melted onto her skin and shifted beneath it, making the skin around it transparent almost.
With a single step, he drifted behind her and began work on another rune. Several dozen heartbeats later, he was stringing together the final lines of the fourth rune, having finished work on her back and her left shoulder. The last one went on her wrists.
The priest stepped back, observing his work with both his glowing fiery orbs and with a doubling cherubic voice, he announced,
Rise, a proud Igrit Knight.
The woman's entire body shuddered, and she dropped to the floor, bringing her forehead to the stone floor. She stayed there for a moment, whispering what Seth only assumed was quiet prayers of praise and benediction before slowly climbing to her feet and turning to face the Cathedral.
Her runes were so bright it was as though her skin smoldered. A hot and intense aura rolled offer her markings, and other knights regarded with silent, reserved awe. Her General seemed pleased as well, and after a long while, her grey robes came back on and climbed down the stairs. Her runes shone so brightly, they washed her grey robes bright red. Her face was a subtle mix of pride and relief. After she returned to her seat, the next knight candidate stepped up.
The ceremony repeated itself over, but it was the Aqus priest that stepped up this time. Her aura rolled off the Altar and flooded the Cathedral. It was cool, merciless, and crushing. It smelt of the sea and streams, and when she was done weaving, blue runes covered the second knight. He rose like first did, showing his trained body, now marked with runes of power, and he left the stage after a long moment.
Knights continued to receive full runes until the first of Silver's candidates took to the Altar. He was frail-looking for a knight candidate and had a lanky scar-free body, a smooth-shaven jaw, and oiled hair.
Inadequate, Terra's Priest's voice boomed as he towered over him. The twig of a man shook at the proclamation and held his head low as a priest spun his runes. He only received two, and the priest wordlessly drifted back when he was done. The man climbed to his feet and puffed his chest, displaying his runes. His eyes betrayed how he really felt, and everyone in the crowd caught on too.
Seth could feel it; a wave of repulsion and pity surged from the crowd. Ellie reached for his hand, and he was glad to give it.
The half-knight didn't bask in his glory for long. He ran down the Altar with this face tucked low and his grey robes trailing behind him.
That might be me in a few minutes. Seth gulped and took comfort in the assurances that the General had given, but he still felt a nagging fear, and it wasn't just the dreams either.
After that, the ceremony proceeded predictably, with different knights receiving runes from Terra, Venta, Igrit, and Aqus. Uvu only favored two knights since the ceremony began, bequeathing them with Runes he'd seen on healing priests at the borderlands, but Umbra never spoke.
His priest remained there silent and watching, his eyes streaking shadow like he always did year after year. The empire hadn't received an Umbra knight for nearly 250 years, and Seth reckoned that was unlikely to change.
The first rejection didn't come until nearly half of Heddick's men had been judged. It was a large Netean woman with a torso wrapped in scars and a hard face. Her eyes were piercing and intense, bearing no fear or reverence for the deities that occupied the space before her. The confluence of light swallowed her as the runes formed under her feet, but no priest stepped up or spoke for the longest time. Their faces froze, and their eyes grew unfocused, yet they held their divine glow. Silence reigned in the Cathedral, and Seth caught the Netean woman let out a long sigh after a while. "Get on with it," she grumbled.
Unworthy
Their voice was like thunder, layering onto one another in a harsh cacophony that grated Seth's ears and rattled him to the bone. He blanched just as the woman did, but she recovered just a bit faster than he did, the white switching back to bronze. She stalked off the Altar with a snort.
The halls filled with hushed whispers, nobles, knights, and even priests passing silent Judgement on the failed knight.
"I don't know if I think her brave or very foolish," Ellie said just as the next knight stepped up.
"Why wasn't she chosen," Seth muttered. "Her gross disrespect aside, she is clearly an accomplished warrior." She's just like me. What did she do to earn their Ire? Seth doubted she was transported to a tower when she slept and dreamt of runes.
Ellie's eyes strayed from the new knight kneeling at the Altar. "Maybe they didn't want to. The General and nobles might push candidates and make promises, but it's their power. They decide what they want to do with it."
Her words stuck with him through the rest of Heddick's soldiers and most of the Thorns, and it rattled him more than he'd like. Death was back on the table. They could take one look at him and decide to smite him though that had never happened in all 500 years of Judgement, but he could be the exception. He felt sick to his stomach, the uncertainty nearly paralyzing him, but the flashes came back.
The battle with the vampire, the years of service, the cold nights, the wounds, the crude stitching, shitty meal; everything came back. And his fear morphed into righteous anger. He'd done everything a knight candidate could have done and even cut a back deal with the fucking General. Was it so unreasonable, he asked for his due?
Soon, the last of Thorn's men received their runes, and all of Roko's chosen climbed up the stairs of the Judgement altar. Only ten came from Roko, which was a stark contrast to 30 or more other Generals presented.
Streaks of nervous sweat traveled down Seth's robe as the first of their men stepped forward.
"We'll be fine," Ellie mouthed with a smile and offered him her hand again. She used to do it a lot when they were children. Seth absently wondered if she gave her hand for the same reason she did all those years ago before she left for the army when their father used to get so angry: to help him feel safe.
He took her hand and squeezed it. After everything they'd sacrificed and been through, he felt no more certain than he did that night two weeks ago. He nearly laughed out loud at how absurd it all was, but there was no use overthinking things like he always did. They were at the Cathedral now. He would have his answers soon enough.
The first knight climbed and was blessed with runes, and so were the second and third. Sera was the first of the Raven to climb the Altar and be baptized in divine light. Venta stepped forward to claim her. Her priest had soft features that'd turned soothing and almost motherly with age. She smiled at Sera, and Seth watched as her eyes turned glassy and tears rolled down.
Venta's priest began, weaving green light and planting complex shapes, far more detailed and larger than any knight that had come before her. Each one took hundreds of heartbeats to make, and she received four powerful ones, the largest being on her back, in the vague image of a bird flying. Sera's eyes were flowing at the very end, and she remained on her knees, her head firmly to the floor; she stayed longer than other knights before her. Her devotion was for all five gods, even though she cared more for Uvu the most, paid off.
Brick climbed up next, and it was the priest of Terra that came for him. His face was like granite, with deep grooves worn into its craggy surface over time. Brick was slow to pull his robe, and the looks from the waiting knights revealed why.
A massive network of scars spread from the center of his chest outwards to his sides and his upper abdomen. He looked like he shouldn't be alive, and his muscled physique further removed from the deformation. He was impressive despite his weaknesses, and Terra seemed to approve.
He opened the floor with the rune for earth reinforcement. Seth had caught a glimpse of it once before on a visiting Terra knight, but this was more detailed. Intricate lines buzzing with untold powers and new layers that added whole new dimensions to the basic runes. When he was done, he set it deep into Brick's chest, right at the nexus of his scars, and moved on to the next runes and the one after that. When Terra was finished, Brick stood tall, his body glowing with a powerful, almost bronze aura, with a proud half-smirk on his face.
You deserve it. Seth quietly cheered for Brick as he shrugged on his robe and returned back to his seat. Brick was like a Brother, and a single fight was not going to change that. A few more knights received runes, and then his Sister stepped up.
All the doubt and anxiety seeped out of her with her first few steps, and by the time she was on the Altar, in the circle, she looked more confident than he'd ever seen her. She didn't flinch when the rainbow of light bathed her. Her baptism lasted a heartbeat longer than most. Most would have missed it, but he hadn't.
Something is different.
As they'd both predicted, it was the Uvu's priest that set forth. His eyes mirrored those of his marble likeness and glowed with the warmth of the sun. With slow, deliberate movements, he began to weave. Motes of light flowed out his fingers and danced, forming complex runic structures almost too fast for Seth to follow with his eyes, but he caught the largest movements and felt his mind grasp at the superficial essence of it, and then it dawned on him just how powerful the beings that ascended to become deities were, and their vessels were, by extension. A primal hunger grew deep within him, clawing from the very edge of his consciousness, that quiet and dark place where the power of the blood runes grew from. He itched to weave and create like they did.
He lost himself in the befuddling beauty of it all. The Uvu priest was lithe, his face more verdant than the others. His robes hung in the air, waving and following as he danced around Ellie, weaving, and laying. Each Light rune he placed was larger than the last and washed her ebon under-skin with penetrating light.
Just as suddenly as the performance began, it came to a close. The fluttering stopped, the trance broken, and Ellie climbed to her feet after his proud declaration.
Rise, Proud Uvu knight.
Seth caught her eyes glass over slightly, and a single tear flowed down her cheek. Her face contorted in a mix of surprise and anger, glaring at the tear like it'd betrayed her somehow.
Seth's heart swelled, and his lips stretched to form the biggest smile his face would allow. It was larger than the one he had when he woke up at the inn or found out he'd made knight candidate or his first night with a woman. The joy drowned every hint of worry and sorrow he felt.
She'd deserved it, more than any knight he'd ever met.
A quick look behind informed him he was the last candidate waiting, so he stayed halfway up and let her bask in the quiet admiration. Her body blazed like the sun. In addition to her former runes, she received four more. Nearly every inch of her upper body was covered in lines and lines of golden light, forming a visible halo around her. With her white braided hair and her deep blue eyes, she looked almost divine.
Ellie pulled her robe, slipped into it after some time, and climbed down the stairs slowly. She looked exhausted and happy, and she touched Seth's shoulder and gave him a tender smile and short squeeze before joining the watching gallery below.
Seth took a deep breath in and stepped up. It was his turn.
His first step was less sure than he'd liked, and the next one was even jitterier than the last, but he forged on nonetheless.
He cleared the last stairs and stood in the circle where every knight candidate before him had before. The marble floors were regal and polished, clear enough to catch a reflection of himself. He looked pampered, well-dressed, and absolutely terrified. The priests and the floating likeness stood out on the marble sea.
The inverted priests' hands glowed with elemental lights, and they stretched forth as one, and just like every candidate before, he was swallowed by a pillar of multi-colored lights. He stared at the shifting colors and whirring energies, and he felt almost tempted to reach out and touch it. The lights faded before he could dissuade himself not to, and when he looked ahead, he found the priests, all six of them focused on him with an indiscernible expression. Even the Umbra priest seemed focused.
Seth felt himself curl up mentally and nearly quailed under their scrutiny, but he maintained eye contact and waited.
Panicked whispers bounced around in his head, the same ones he'd heard the night before and that very morning, and while he was sitting in the gallery, but he crushed them. Seth waited long, longer than the Netean woman had, and he immediately knew something was wrong. He considered bolting for a moment, but his fears were put to lay when the Uvu priest stepped forward.
Seth slowly disrobed, conscious of how his fellow knights would perceive his scars, but resigned with the understanding that it was necessary.
They must have all seen it or at least heard of it.
What he'd not accounted for was the Uvu priest's reaction. His face twisted in repulsion, his glowing white eyes running over them with absolute disgust. His glare paralyzed Seth, freezing him in place.
When the priest finally moved, his face hadn't really recovered. It was pale, almost snow-white, and he stabbed at Seth with his index finger bleeding light. Seth stepped back, away from the circle, but the finger of light sped up, far faster than he could dodge, and struck at his chest, right at the nexus of his scars, seizing him in place. Seth screamed as his flesh was boiled and steamed, but the Uvu priest ignored him, working mechanically, his disgust still on his face. He carved out dead skin, replacing them with deep furrows of light.
Seth's body went limp from the pain, but the Uvu priest grabbed him by his shoulder, effortlessly keeping him upright, and stabbed again, this time at this sternum, and began to weave, burning through the thin flesh. It hurt so much, Seth's consciousness slipped twice over. After he was done, the Uvu priest's grip eased, and Seth crumped to the floor.
Rise, Uvu knight, he said, his double voice barely audible, before turning around and returning to the sides of the five other and disappearing with a bright flash. The floating marble statues suspended by the visiting gods' presence lost their glows and drifted to the ground. There was a low rumble when they impacted the floor.
Seth watched the scene unfold with a groggy mind, and his vision doubled.
What... just happened?
The world spun around him as he struggled to his feet, and he nearly fell over twice, the sudden movements all but too much for him. He cradled his head, and slowly everything fell into place. He found his Sister staring at him, her eyes wide in shock, and then he slowly watched that shock transform into pity. The rest of the Roko's knights had similar expressions, none of them good. Looking up, he noticed that everyone in the cathedral had their eyes on him. The room was deathly quiet, and finally, it clicked.
Panicked, his eyes swept low, and he found two of the smallest runes he'd ever seen.
The one above his sternum was a Light accumulation rune, but the second was strange. It looked to be a basic Light reinforcement rune, except without the orbiting letterings or glyphs. It was raw and deep, and it barely gave off any light; neither of his runes did.
What!
A sudden pain stabbed through his head, and his legs went weak. He drifted far from the circle before he caught himself. His knees nearly gave out when he tried balancing himself again. Ellie ran up the stairs to hold him upright. She swept his robe around his shoulders and helped him down the Altar. Seth felt every eye in the room follow him until he sat down.
"You are fine," she soothed. "You are fine."
He was not fine, and he felt his mind nearly split again from the pain.
Fresh knights he'd barely shared conversations offered condolences, threw questions, and shit-talked, but Ellie rebuffed all of them.
When the pain receded for a moment, he looked back and shared a look with Sera and Brick. They were seated a single row behind him, and their faces were the wrong color. Brick looked constipated and red while Sera had a hand over her mouth.
His head snapped forward, his attention pulled towards his chest. It was on fire. He wondered why he was in pain briefly before the memory of his merciless Judgement came back to him.
And as if for the first time again, he experienced the pain and noticed two burn wounds of three or four. Seth felt his entire being rattle, trying to wrap his head around it before he settled on an emotion—rage.
"A fucking half-knight, after all that." he half-asked, half-realized. Even more looks were directed at him, but he hardly noticed. He felt his blood boil and his ears steam.
They would begrudge me a full set, after all that!
I…did nothing wrong.
I am owed.
"How could they," he growled, and his eyes shot upwards at the statues, locking on Uvu particularly. He felt his body stir, the rage spurring him forth, and he nearly climbed to his feet before a hand clapped on him, pulling him from his reverie.
It was Ellie's, and she fixed him with a firm glare.
Her look was a warning, a clear threat, not from her, but from everybody. Every important eye in upper Brightmont was firmly on him.
Even after realizing that, it took him a while to gain a hold of himself. His muscles eventually eased, and the anger drained from his face, but it never left his eyes.
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Trouble in the Stars
Candice bites her lower lip as her target is within view, an ancient battleship sunk near the end of the old expansion wars. Its a ghost ship. She knows that other scavangers have come across the wreck before, and its probably picked clean; but she just had to try her own hand at it, experience the relic known as Castle for herself. she had no intention of actually finding anything on this trek; but sometimes fate has more in store than we can ever anticipate. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I know, I have several stories I haven't finished, why am I starting a new one.... well inspiration. Image used with permission, to see their other creations: https://vombavr.deviantart.com/art/Sophia-447784085
8 138Toothpick
“Hello! My humble audience! I, the Bard of the North, am going to tell you a tale. Nothing new, nothing old. A story of a hero, some may say, others a poor boy who was hated by the world.” The storyteller paused as he waited, right timing was everything when telling a story. Pacing… Too slow and the audience became bored then left without tossing even the smallest of coins. If he spoke too fast and rushed the story. It would leave the audience confused and having no reason to be impressed. So like any good storyteller, the Bard has to do a balancing act of sorts. Not too slow, not too fast. Just perfectly in the middle. “In a shattered country in the south, a novice princeling has the ambition to mend a torn tapestry that is his birthplace. Struggling to fend off those who would usurp the throne in an unending civil war spanning centuries. A mercenary that left only death in his wake, unable to stave off the monotony and peace of life. He looks back at the path laden with bodies, wondering if it was all worth it. Wandering souls summoned by a madman, travel away from a wasteland in a foreign land, the first alone, the others as companions. A deity, ancient in her years, waiting to be freed from a duty she no longer enjoys. For all these people and their stories, none are the hero of this tale. No, the hero is not grand, not wise, not ready.. he was punished for nothing of his doing, who was an outcast that was unloved by many, including his father.” This was always the big reveal novices use to jump off into their story. He did not start here, instead, like any good fishermen, he set the bait and waited until the fish bit before pulling. As he saw the audience's eyes focus, he then started the backstory. The harness, that stopped the listeners from having metaphorical whiplash. The foreshadowing. “But that is not where the story starts. No, not even the hero's birth. Where the story begins, is the boredom of the deity, a deity many know of. She who hunts for the impossible, the guide for those who have lost the path, the Huntress of Mallon--” A small pause, a short breath. “--All old names for a single powerful being that has roamed the grounds of this continent longer than any line of kings or queens, lords or ladies. A being of worship for many an individual…” One last breath. And he began singing the first verse.
8 289The Arcane Prince
Book 1 is complete and fully posted here on RoyalRoad. The story is on break as I work on Book 2, which will be posted once I have finished writing it. Max is a twelve-year-old boy from the slums who dreams of seeing the world, learning magic, and adventure. On the same day that Max learns his first spell, he meets Colt, a noble-born lad on his own path to power. Colt is kind. Oblivious to the world, but kind. By his grace, Max begins to learn under Colt's instructor, even hunting monsters in the forests to the north. Max is talented and grows in power quickly, but as he prepares for the first of his adventures, the kingdom faces the greatest threat in centuries. Posting Schedule: Every 3 days until the end of Book 1 (Chapter 45). IMPORTANT NOTES: 1) This is a story about an OP boy doing OP boy things. By the end of Book 1, there will be few fights that he struggles with, and he will rarely, if ever, find his life in peril. 2) This is a slice-of-life and adventure story, which means that there will be periods of chapters without any action or conflict, but also periods of chapters with battles and exploration/adventure (the latter mostly being Book 2+). 3) There will be NO petty squabbles or conflicts going on in this story, because it is meant to be a fun one, not a high-tension, drama-filled story. So it will NOT be that. If you want lots of action or lots of conflict, then find another story to read because this isn't it. 4) There will never be an overarching evil/villain/conflict to deal with in this story past Book 1. Ever. 5) Book 1 is entirely written and can be considered a standalone story on its own. Right now, the story may last 2-3 books, or it may last 7-10 books. It is guaranteed to make it through Book 2 or 3, and if I decide to go with the bigger journey I have planned after that, then it will be longer. There will be a several-month wait between Book 1 and Book 2. 6) The story contains the sexual content tag, but it will not contain any unless Max and his future boyfriend reach 18+ years of age in-story. If I decide to bring the story to a conclusion with Book 2 or 3, or they never reach that age in the full story for the long journey, then I will remove the tag. 7) There are currently absolutely no plans to make this story into a harem if I write the extended story. If I write the extended story and decide at some point to make it one, then I will add the appropriate tag and inform readers of this decision. However, there are currently zero plans to make it one. 8) This story takes place in its own story universe, with its own rules. Please keep that in mind when reading it and other stories.
8 83Realize (PUBLISHED)
They live on the same floor. They attend the same luxurious school. They have the same friends. They couldn't stand each other. And just when she thought she could get away from him, they end up being on the same band.Could life get any more worse?Oh, that's right. He, the coldest arrogant jerk, is also the most handsome guy she had ever set eyes on. That's definitely saying something, living on the Upper East Side.Now, she faces her biggest problem of all.Differentiating LOVE from HATE.__________Realize is copyrighted.**I guess you could say this is Gossip Girl in rainbow land, without all the drama and scandal. Only humorous and fun.**
8 125Father Laff AU (Socksfor1) Volume 1
I think Laff would be a good father figure to Nadwe, Muffin and to literally everyone else in the group 👉👈So i may or may not have made a story in where Laff adopts Nadwe after finding him behind his apartment building (and he will adopt Muffin later of course :>) and where he is the voice of reason for everyone elsei hope you all like itif not that's okay too lolalso cover pic is mine so no stealing please 😅
8 132The Dendrochronology of Lincoln & Daisy // a Staticquake fanfic
What if Lincoln Campbell and Daisy Johnson met long before Agents of SHIELD? In the story, they end up meeting under the same oak tree throughout their lives leading up their first meeting in Afterlife. And a little bit after ;)
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