Mack Ronald.
25th of Trescia, 1492.
Ligin Kingdom, Central Ligin Mountain Range. Altitude: 4,508m.
07:00.
***
"Is it just me or… does it keep getting bigger?"
While I pondered the same hours earlier, I could neither look at nor answer Queen Isabella Ligin, for I could sense what was spreading across the realm of the Bodhi Tree.
Moreover, I could never take my eyes off of Toril's order of knights whenever they came near. The reason being, their uncanny resemblance to the Cobalt Order that birthed Titus Zlock.
In spite of their stark differences, the members of their four castes all appeared the same. Their dames had heavy armor with thick pauldrons and winged helms boasting a 'Y' shaped opening that left their visages hidden from all. Their holy ones had covered their eyes and noses in a half-helm reminiscent of a griffon's beak. Their monks were enveloped in what seemed to be a one-piece robe of vibrant feathers and dark fur. Even their knights were never seen without their helmets. Yet even those faces of metal were shrouded with hoods, pointed like an eagle's beak.
No matter the garb, their armor seemed heavier than most models I'd seen. It made their voices boom like thunder and their steps quake like that of a great beast. Even the monks. Even then, however, that was the least of it.
In just a few months they did what many paladins, much less many Orders failed to achieve. In doing so, Toril not only had a veritable city in his honor but the prestige to invite the Queen herself to one of his events, and have her accept.
Technically his teacher, I still was, thus I was privy to be present when Toril thundered to a landing outside the Royal Capital of Galar on the eastern coast. Those knights of his ferried our guests inside the belly of a massive machine he brought with him while he greeted and welcomed us to his 'sky ship,' created by his fellow vassal, classmate, and Noctis Legionary, Edward Pascal.
It was then that it happened.
The Second Sun. The Silver Eye. Mani, always in motion around the Bodhi Peninsulas from way on high, ceased its motion high above Crater Lake. During the course of our two-hour flight, it had grown from the size of a coin held out at arm's length to that of grapefruit held at the same distance; all the while, those other spherical realms were drawn to form a line behind it.
It was a sight that left many unsettled but few panicked, for most if not all of the Bodhi Tree's denizens knew of the so-called Weaver of Worlds even if they knew him not by that title. That said, that was also because few could feel the implications of such events unfolding around us. And none could have foreseen its conclusion.
It was only felt by the masses when we entered the grounds of the Order, on one of the Ligin Kingdom's highest peaks. Even in the stables within the outer yards, the winds were dead silent. Yet, they carried both haunting whispers and enriching songs, percussed by the thunderous steps of the Order, marching in solidarity toward their temple- a doorless, open-air half-sphere of concentric rings, terraced so as to face the wide dais at the center.
The 15 of them entered without words, following after Zane, Toril's second as he leaped into the sky and landed in the second outermost ring. Without delay, he took his pole hammer by the hilt and slammed its head between his boots, then raised his arms while his head lowered in the morbid salute of the Legio Noctis.
Only then did Toril and the divine tempest griffon, Thor, stride atop their dais. First, to gaze up to the wide eye in the distance, then to return their salute and have his voice boom. "State your names."
Zane Cooper. Jegu. Niku. Cota. Mide. Biki. Abaka. Yeshi. Darma. Gelek. Palmo. Alan. Olzi. Enx. Erke. Each of their names rang in the heavens, echoing across the lands until they met that silver eye above and echoed back as thunder that stilled reality itself.
"The fifteen of you have proven to possess the mind of being undistinguished within the Order and nondiscriminatory beyond it. Like Thunder, you have proven able to echo the tenets of the Order and the message of our Gods to those who would listen. Like Lightning, you have proven to be relentless and unyielding in your endeavors and pursuits. Like the Winds, you have proven yourselves capable of cutting through the vile that lives, being the gale that uplifts them in death so they may atone for their mortal sins. Like the Rain, you have shown yourselves to be a blessing to the honorable that lives, being capable of washing away the sins of the dead with your deluge.
"Having embodied the Orders of the Undying Tempest, I ask of you this: Do you swear to uphold these orders faithfully until your end of days?"
Without hesitation and with all the resolution one could muster in their will, those 15 knights shouted "I do!" at the heavens, prompting the heavens to take the form of a tempest and shout back, lifting them to float above their ring.
Had I not been bolstering my eyes, I would have failed to see the massive bolt split into 15 tempest griffons, each carrying an equal number of the Order's members along with a sleigh of metals and materials.
Each griffon-carrying bolt split once again the moment they passed a few dozen meters altitude, sending the knights, dames, clerics, and monks behind each of the original 15 while the beasts slammed into the ground next to their companions.
The sleighs, on the other hand, remained above each knight as if to guide bolts of more vibrant blue color into them, and in turn, the knights, disintegrating the sleighs into a stream of grains that saw fit to shroud each member in a cloudy veil that sequentially disassembled their armor.
Each plate and even the helms of their gear were detached and arranged neatly around them. Then came their 'hive mail,' shaped like the combs of a bee hive. Then came their arming doublets, or in the cases of the monks, their robes, before even their tunics were stripped.
Only then did the rich blue lightening, and in turn the grains, flow into their garbs. As was seen with the monks, their tunics or robes formed skin-tight suits with a heart of deep blue at the center, which spread angular veins and what seemed like large buttons across the surface as if it was truly a second skin before suddenly going dormant.
As seen with the knights, dames, and clerics, their doublets then split and untwined themselves, only to be restitched and fastened back together with spools of vibrant materials and conduits of metals I had never before seen. Once complete, they cascaded into their bodies just like their tunics did, enveloping them in a sort of webbing riddled with enchantments, machines, or devices positioned around the kidneys, liver, heart, head, and other places.
Like their tunics, they too positively glowed with arcane power before going dormant, and then their hive mail changed. As the particles cascaded into them, they became semi-amorphous and soon began to glow with arcane blues and dark grays before melding into the webbed doublet. They filled each crevasse and enveloped each strange device in a protective shroud of what appeared to be liquid, pouring their energy into the devices with an unmissable ghostly wail and an undeniable necrotic surge.
While the reformed mail saw the mechanical doublets and their second skin surge with power once again, it was quickly occluded by the many plates of the armor combining into but a few pieces before being layered on top of what seemed to be gelatinous metal and mithral infused with multiple magical affinities.
The plates, now as thick around as my wrist, cascaded onto their frames with sharp clanks and echoing booms, sealing them inside seemingly immovable coffins of metal that glowed with a rich blue radiance.
With reverence, Toril gazed upon his Order as the winds died down and let them fall to the middle of those five rings with thunderous echoes. As did we.
The monks appeared to be sleek and powerful beings of glistening metal, with eyes that glowed with that same blue radiance. So too did the eyes of the clerics glow, despite being half-concealed still, and their lips neither frowned nor smiled as they raised their hands in a salute.
The dames seemed to have pits of darkness within the openings of their winged helms, and no longer did the knights have helms at all. Only those same hoods, now enchanted so as to hide their visages behind a permanent veil of darkness.
"With your suits reforged around your frames and awakened with the Divine Machine's Spirit, you fifteen are recognized as Knights, Monks, Clerics, and Dames of the Second Order. Take them, your members of the First Order, and spread to the lands around.
"The time for your evolution is but a few months away."