The already heavy atmosphere in the Council Hall grew even heavier. But just as quickly as the madness spread, it was all devoured by Halcyon through an opened gaping abyss on his forehead that was shaped like an eye. It was obvious that it did once hold its own eye, but now it was vacant. None of them focused on it, however, as Halcyon turned to a particular throne among the dozens that still remained dim and silent. His expression was neutral, but judging by how the countless singularities of his eyes were rotating and flaring with maddening light, it was easy to tell that he was just as eager to move along. Alas, he did not have to wait long.
"It's been too long, hasn't it?"
A brooding voice spoke with palpable sentimentality. Even as his throne lit up, the person's eyes seemed to gaze at a distant memory. Many things about this man and his throne seemed utterly bland and common. The throne seemed to be made of regular greying stone while the man only had a simple formal attire without the embellishments and designs that Sylvain's attire came with. He honestly seemed more like a servant just from that, but none would dare think that. Because in the next moment, ten streams of power leaked out from his back.
They first formed into wings that were mostly made of energy rather than the usual feathers or scales. But soon, they condensed into crystalline shards that floated behind him, revolving like moons. Their presence immediately attracted power from all the Divine Constructs in the hall, seemingly bending Time and Space to attach to them. But a wave of his hand was enough to calm the phenomenon. The man with short dark brown hair looked at each of the thrones, even those who have not been lit up. His eyes flashing with a contained power that both seemed weaker than the others while also encompassing them.
His right eye was a deep crimson that mirrored the moon above, revealing the Truths within every single speck of Reality. His left eye reflected the benevolent gold of the radiant crown that paired with the moon, its light being the reason for his name. On his forehead was an eye of interchanging white and black, a perfect harmony of what he stood for—Serenity and Chaos. And on his chest, a larger eye of crystalline amethyst pulsed with the power that led to the root of all things, the void of Inexistence. This was a man who carried more titles and epithets than any one of them. He was known as the Ten-Winged God, the God of Eternity, the Omen of Perdition, and the Herald of Grace among many others. This was Caelum Grace, the God of Origin and the End.
"For too long, we ran away from it. For too long, we asked ourselves if we were even worthy of bearing that name once more. For too long, we denied ourselves…. I denied myself."
His eyes shifted, locking onto Lapis who slept peacefully in Sylvain's arms. His eyes were nearly brought to tears. He felt the pain of guilt even more than the others. After all, it was in his cycle that Lapis was finally resurrected from the seed. She was reborn as the manifestation of one the Divine Constructs tied to his existence. She was the Eternal Garden, his little paradise called Eden. And in the moment of her rebirth, he had the opportunity of claiming what was once theirs. But he was not ready. The journey that took him to that moment in time had scarred him greatly, making him forget many things that even now have yet to return to them. And so Caelum denied himself the opportunity, even asking Lapis if she wanted to reclaim her former name when he already knew the result.
Lapis may have been innately stronger than him, but she was entirely dependent on him, especially in those moments. Even if she wanted to reclaim her name, to flourish her seed, she cannot because Caelum did not want to do the same for himself. Despite having separate Sources of Existence now, they were still inextricably tangled. And balance was always necessary.
Caelum wanted to blame Existence. He wanted to blame those who chased them away, those who hunted them down like mere beasts. The betrayal he felt born from his own seed allowed him to see the Truths that were hidden from Lapis. For her, as long as they were together, she was happy. But Caelum knew that they would never belong anywhere. No happiness would come to them without just as much if not greater suffering. It was the curse that followed them, trailing Caelum like an unrelenting blade seeking to drink from his pulsing veins. He truly wanted to blame them. But at some point, the blame shifted to himself.
If he did not exist, then perhaps Lapis and his other wives would not have suffered so much. Perhaps his sisters would not have had to die in such brutal ways, scarring them even in their reincarnations. Perhaps his children would not have had to grow up in war and ruin. If he had just accepted his old name, perhaps he would have ended this long cycle of suffering. So he looked at each of the men around him: Myreil, Sinclair, Halcyon, Alexander and Sylvain. These people, including Caelum himself, were the incarnations with the most significant and pivotal influence to their Cycle of Existence. And now, they have gathered to convene the Council of Grace.
"She has already made the decision for us. She knew that just one seed alone could not surmount our predicament. She has already sacrificed herself… when we swore to not allow a single one of our family to bear the burden of sacrifice. It is time."
The crystalline shards revolving behind Caelum suddenly moved with purpose. One of them in particular, a shard with the mixture of bright red and smoky black, flew out and settled just above Caelum's head while glowing with tremendous power. The other shards flocked toward it, revolving around its base like a halo over the man's head. They were feeding the glowing shard with their own powers, and soon, it burst into scarlet and black flames, spreading down onto Caelum. It scorched his flesh just as fast as it healed him. It was a flame that did not let him die as it flourished from his pain and suffering, a torment that was directed to sacrifice. Without a single change in expression, Caelum opened his mouth and began reciting an incantation that was known only to the existence known as Grace.
"O Serenity, long have I waited,
Yet Chaos comes so swiftly still.
Though in that madness, Reason.
For still I march toward Immolation."
The scarlet and black flames seemed to burst out in madness the moment Caelum invoked its name. Immolation, the sacrificial pyre with which he offered his own flesh and blood. The offering was made not to any god or divine beings, but to himself. And spurred on by Caelum's resolve, the others chanted with him. It was not only Myreil, Sinclair, Halcyon, Alexander and Sylvain, but rather all of the Graces on all of the thrones.
Each of them were lit up and revealed. Each with different appearances and powers, but all had the same light in their eyes, the same scars in their beings. The scarlet and black flames spread out from Caelum like wildfire, turning the Council of Grace into something reminiscent of a funeral pyre. And as all of them took a breath to recite the Incantation of the Wings, a sonorous tune played out in the surroundings. It stretched out to the furthest reaches of the recorded Existence within the Aletheian Engine, and soon it came with voices singing a song.
The song was so beautiful it took the attention of everyone it could reach. Its symphony seemed to entrance the mind, lulling it into a vision of comfort and relief, of salvation among the golden and verdant fields within the solace of oblivion. The voices who sang the song shed golden tears in worship, their very essence offered in oblation. And yet even those were not enough as they brought their feathered wings before them, plucking the plumes one by one as they sang, bathing their bodies with golden blood that smelled of nectar and dew.
The lyrics were ancient, far more so than most could even conceive. It was a tongue that predated the known scripts of power. And its trait was wholly unique for it is spoken not by the mouth, but by the soul. The words carry with them the intent of the speaker and so much more. It was a tongue of Truth spoken only by those who were granted the privilege. The song spoke of something beyond the mundane understandings of minds both mortal and immortal. It spoke of a grief that followed the joy of blessings, of the torment that seconded the comforting peace. Even those who heard it could not understand, but their souls did. The intent within the song manifested in the form of emotions within them. And they were stirred.
Those who heard the singing choir wept blood that soon turned from crimson to black. They were not as clean and pure as the feathered martyrs who led the chorus, but their essence still held their blazing wills. And with each drop, whatever doubts they had vanished as they too began stripping themselves of flesh. For any who would witness such heresy would wish to burn them in raging starfire to cleanse them of the diabolical malaise that addled their minds. But they too shall know it true. They too shall eventually hum the song. For it is not a matter of individual will. It is a grief that spans through Time, a desperation that has endured since Eternity. It is buried deep within the souls of all and no amount of skin, blood or cloth can contain it. In the end, all shall seek salvation by the tune of sanctimonious depravity. All offering their beings in worship to the Divine Immolation.
And soon, they heard the words echo throughout the recorded Existence. They echoed even to the world outside, to every corner of Earth. The voices of all the incarnations of Grace to ever exist, the very Pillars of Grace, carried a myriad of emotions so dense and palpable that almost everyone who heard their voices were overwhelmed.
"O Serenity, long have I waited,
Yet Chaos comes so swiftly still.
Though in that madness, Reason,
For still I march toward Immolation.
Blind me yet, sweet thorn of Desire.
Prey upon this Conquest of mine.
Heed this Prayer, O stars above
For Castigation to all must come.
Return this vessel to its Eternity,
So cries the Origin after the End."