The grand halls of the Citadel bustled with quiet activity as scholars and council staff moved purposefully between rooms, carrying armfuls of scrolls and mana-etched tablets. It was the next morning, and rumors of Rui's condition—and his Primordial Core—had already begun to seep through the cracks of the Citadel's walls, whispered in corners and passed between trembling lips.
Kovar had instructed Rui to rest, but rest felt impossible. His body ached, his mind buzzed with the memory of golden threads shifting beneath his will. He walked the quieter corridors of the Citadel, clad in a simple tunic, his silver eyes sharp and contemplative.
Mana lanterns flickered above him as he passed, casting faint glows across the engraved stone walls. His steps echoed faintly, his presence undeniable even in silence.
He turned a corner and nearly collided with a familiar figure—Elira Thorne.
The Archmage of the Council stood with her arms crossed, emerald robes pooling elegantly around her feet. Her sharp emerald eyes fixed Rui with an expression that was both stern and… curious.
"Rui," she said, her voice firm yet carrying a softness beneath its edge. "You look—different."
Rui arched an eyebrow. "Different how?"
Elira tilted her head slightly, her gaze scanning him as if she could see the faint flicker of golden light beneath his skin. "Your presence feels more… stable. Whatever you've been doing, it's working."
Rui exhaled, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Small steps, Elira. I'm not fixed—not yet."
She regarded him for a moment longer before speaking again. "The Council has been… quieter since yesterday. They know you're preparing for the speech, and they're content—for now—to wait. But rumors are spreading beyond these walls, Rui. The people know something monumental happened in the Abyss, and they're desperate for clarity."
Rui nodded. "I'm aware. I'll be ready."
Elira uncrossed her arms, her emerald robes whispering faintly as she stepped aside. "See that you are."
As Rui walked past her, her voice called out softly behind him. "And Rui… be careful. This world has a habit of breaking those who carry too much weight."
Rui paused briefly but said nothing, continuing down the corridor.
---
The pale light of the moon spilled across Rui's chamber, bathing the polished floors in silver. Rui sat cross-legged in the center of the room, his breathing slow and deliberate. His Runic Eyes glowed softly, faint sigils etched within his irises like celestial markings.
The golden threads in his chest pulsed faintly with every breath, and Rui could feel them—shifting ever so slightly under his guidance.
The hours passed like drifting smoke, and the sensation became clearer.
He was still broken. Still fragile. But there was a sense of connection now—something fragile yet tangible.
---
Meanwhile, in the Council Chamber, Grand Mage Caelren, Archmage Elira Thorne, and a handful of other Archmages/Grand Mages gathered around a glowing projection of Eryndor. Threads of mana traced over the map, marking key locations and ley lines.
"The northern borders are silent… too silent," one Archmage murmured, his brow furrowed deeply. "Skara Drayk hasn't made a move, but intelligence suggests he's watching us closely."
Elira's emerald eyes flicked toward Caelren. "We don't have time for Skara or his warlords. If we lose the confidence of the people now, it won't matter what the North does. Eryndor will tear itself apart from within."
Caelren nodded gravely. "Which is why Rui's speech cannot fail. It isn't just reassurance—it's a promise. A foundation for what comes next."
The chamber fell silent, the weight of the moment settling over them like a shroud.
---
Rui sat on the edge of his bed, his silver eyes staring out into the sprawling city below. The golden cracks across his skin glimmered faintly in the moonlight.
He'd spent the last couple of days straight cultivating, guiding the threads within his core, pushing himself to the edge of his endurance. The progress was small—but undeniable.
The people below deserved answers.
And he would give them.
Kovar entered the chamber quietly, his glass dome glowing faintly with warm amber light. He carried a small crystalline vial filled with a faintly shimmering blue liquid.
"One last stabilization serum, Rui," Kovar said softly. "It'll hold you steady through the speech. But… be careful. You're still fragile."
Rui took the vial, holding it up to the moonlight. The liquid within glowed faintly, like captured starlight.
"Thank you, Kovar," Rui said, his voice steady.
Kovar hesitated at the doorway, then nodded once. "Tomorrow, Rui. Tomorrow, you'll step into the light."
As Kovar left, Rui lay back on his bed, the vial resting lightly in his palm.
Above him, faint cracks of golden light shimmered across his chest, and his Runic Eyes glowed softly as they dimmed.
Tomorrow, the world would hear him.
And Rui would ensure they understood.