Sir Arras and his team had returned from their expedition and now stood in the dimly lit office of the Church Paragon in Solhollow, Father Rael. The room exuded an air of quiet authority. Modest yet elegant, it was lined with shelves filled with ancient tomes, their spines cracked with age, and glowing sigils etched into the walls, casting a soft, shifting light across the space.
Father Rael, a man who appeared to be in his fifties, sat behind a large, sturdy desk made of dark wood, its surface polished to a shine. His pale skin seemed to absorb the glow of the sigils, lending him an ethereal appearance. Black eyes, sharp and calculating, peered out from beneath long white hair that flowed past his shoulders. His gray beard framed a face lined with wisdom and calm authority.
"Tell me what happened," Rael said, his voice low and steady, each word carrying the weight of his station.
Sir Arras stepped forward, his posture stiff with the gravity of his report. "We received an urgent transmission through the sigil network from one of the Adepts stationed in Duskwatch," he began. "They reported an attack by Seedlings. Though numerous, the threat was deemed manageable, and they requested reinforcements to prevent casualties."
He paused briefly, his tone growing heavier as he continued. "I decided to bring the trainees along, thinking it could serve as a valuable learning experience. However, upon arrival, we heard the unmistakable roar of a Voidbringer."
The mention of the Voidbringer hung in the air, its implications palpable.
"Recognizing the danger," Sir Arras said, "I immediately sent the trainees back to Solhollow. Myself, Ashanti, and Alek engaged the Voidbringer. We were able to subdue it without sustaining injuries, while Denzel and the Adepts successfully evacuated the survivors. Duskwatch still stands, though it has suffered greatly."
Father Rael leaned back slightly in his chair, his fingers steepled in thought as he listened. "And then?"
Sir Arras's gaze shifted momentarily, as if recalling a scene that unsettled him. "After the battle, we ventured into the depths of the Ancient Forest to investigate the source of the attack. And… we found something." His voice lowered, tinged with unease. "It was unlike anything I have ever seen."
He took a deep breath and continued. "We came across what appeared to be a gigantic, fragmented mirror, suspended mid-air. The space around it was fractured, as though reality itself had splintered. It pulsed faintly, almost as if it were alive. But as we approached, the anomaly began to mend itself. Within moments, it disappeared entirely—vanished as though it had never existed."
A heavy silence fell over the room, broken only by the faint hum of the sigils along the walls.
Father Rael's black eyes narrowed, his expression pensive. "So, it confirms what we've long suspected. The Rodraks truly originate from another plane of existence. A century of speculation… finally validated."
He tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, his mind clearly turning over the implications. "This is unprecedented. The Rodraks have always appeared like specters, materializing without trace or warning. We've never been able to confirm their origin."
His tone grew quieter, laced with contemplation. "The Diviners have theorized for decades about an alternate plane—another universe parallel to our own. But why now? What has changed?"
Rael's voice trailed off, his gaze distant as he sank into deep thought. The room remained still, the enormity of the revelation weighing heavily on those present.
Tyrese woke with a start, the relentless pounding in his head finally reduced to a dull ache. He moved through his habitual morning routine, the familiarity grounding him as he prepared for the day.
The morning air was brisk as he stepped outside, a light wind brushing past him. Today marked the fifth day of the week, a designated day of rest. On Orion, the days stretched long: 26 hours of daylight followed by 10 hours of night, making each full cycle 36 hours. The twin suns, Durnas and Veyra, circled the massive planet in a year divided into six months—Dawnspire, Emberleaf, Stormtide, Solshade, Frostveil, and Starfall.
Today was the fifth day of Emberleaf in the 1465th cycle of the twin suns. But despite the day of rest, Tyrese couldn't shake the unease clinging to him since the events of the previous day. Seeking clarity and hoping to check on Sir Arras, he decided to visit the Church of Light.
The spires of the Church loomed ahead, their intricate designs etched with luminous sigils that seemed to pulse faintly in the sunlight. As Tyrese approached, he noticed several trainees milling about, including Maha. Though not all were present, a significant number had gathered, likely driven by the same concerns that plagued him.
Maha spotted Tyrese and waved, her expression a mixture of relief and lingering worry. He nodded in acknowledgment and joined her as they walked into the church together.
The halls were quiet, their usual energy subdued by the weight of recent events. Finding the main hall empty, the group instinctively headed toward the training area. The familiar space seemed both comforting and foreboding in its silence.
"Hello, trainees," came Sir Arras's voice, deep and commanding. He stood at the front of the room, his expression solemn but composed. "I expected you to come. I know what you seek. Take a seat."
The trainees complied, settling into a semicircle as Sir Arras began to recount the events that followed their abrupt departure from Duskwatch.
He spoke of the fierce battle against the Voidbringer, Denzel's heroic efforts to rescue civilians, and the discovery of the fragmented, mirror-like anomaly in the depths of the Ancient Forest. His words painted a picture of calamity and revelation, leaving the room heavy with thought.
The trainees exchanged uneasy glances, the enormity of the Voidbringer's presence and the implications of Sir Arras's discovery sinking in.
Tyrese sat quietly, his expression grim. The thought of returning to the Lost Sanctuary, nestled deep within the Ancient Forest, now seemed reckless. The forest was far more dangerous than he had ever imagined.
After a brief discussion, Sir Arras dismissed them. "There will be no training tomorrow," he said firmly. "Take the day to rest and clear your minds. I have other matters to attend to."
The trainees nodded, understanding. Sir Arras's responsibilities likely included meetings with King Deon and the Harbinger of Solhollow to report on the team's findings.
Leaving the Church, Tyrese accompanied Maha to the marketplace. The lively chatter of merchants and the vibrant colors of their stalls offered a fleeting respite from the heaviness in his chest. Tyrese purchased the medicinal herbs he needed for his mind-calming tea, paying four Coree before heading home.