Chapter II

Chapter II:

 

            Halo City is the home of most whom reside on the Angellius demesne. Its people are refined and live at a high level of sophistication. There are neither forms of poverty nor anxiety amongst those who dwell here. The city is built on vibrant red bricks with many flourishing marble pathways. As marvelous as the city may be, its exquisite beauty is nothing in comparison to the structure that exists in the northwest corner of Halo City, the Eldest Castle.

            Besides a few rooms, the Eldest Castle is made entirely of deep red bricks that have magical scribes etched through its completeness. Although it’s square shape is not truly wide and outstretched from its base like the castles on other demesnes, this one is instead extraordinarily lengthy and possesses a countless amount of levels and floors. No matter the time of day or night, this majestic castle is always illuminating a exhilarated vision of itself. Just to ensure the heightened enchantment of appeal for the Eldest Castle a portion of a living stream, known as the Archaic Drift, endlessly shifts and prances alluringly around it.

Inside the Eldest Castle, at its center, is the most captivating courtyard. Seven granite pillars hold this courtyard, which preserves exuberant energy of various colors inside each. At the core of the courtyard is a huge clear circular glass that has the words Angellius Point of the Six Unitalius Points written in the oldest of text. The courtyard is astonishingly sizeable with a plethora of people constantly entering and exiting throughout.

This particular day, within the shuffle of ongoing people, the Guide of the Angellius demesne, Lius Zethros, walks with his hands calmly placed behind his back. He wears a maroon hooded robe that is almost exact to Roen’s, except Lius’s robe has the words Ascended Guide in the origin text embroidered over the left chest piece. This middle-aged Guide has a hardened but angled face that holds an unique level of rugged attractiveness.

“Are you ready?” Lius asks, loudly in a firm and assertive tone. 

Carefully circling around him, but remaining to form a perfect triangle, is his pupils and Seats of the Angellius demesne, Kale, Jhene, and Liisor. The three Seats of Guide Lius are easily seen to be younger than he as they look to barely have crossed the threshold into adulthood. Like their Guide, they wear a maroon hooded robe but stitched over the left chest of their robes are the words Ascended Seat in the origin text.

“Guide Lius, do we really need to train in the confines of all these people,” Liisor asks, while carefully circling his elder and keeping a cautious gaze over the people that walk care free around them. Liisor has always been the most cautious of the Ascended members, as well as being the most calculating out of the three Seats. His appearance reflects the described demeanor as his angled face is piercing and tense and his small black eyes are forever shifting in every direction. Even his straight black hair, although relatively long, angles to cover his eyes and ears, maximizing acuity while giving a sense of virginity. “I mean they can really get hurt if we are not mindful of them.”

“Do you truly believe that we will never have fights where innocents are not entangled, Liisor,” Jhene scolds, showcasing her typical shrill approach. Her fervently hazel eyes burn into Liisor’s just as cold and insensible as her tone. Everything about Jhene, her tense olive skin and straight free-flowing long dark-brown hair, gives off a sense of absolute seriousness and unconditional notion for truth toward all things.

“Jhene is right,” Kale agrees, but in a much more subtle tone. “We must learn to not permit anything to be our distraction… including those that we have sworn to protect.”

Kale, the prince of the Ayriel demesne and son to Crown Araude and Lady Maniida, is a great blend of his parents. Tall, bold, and strongly built like his fierce father. Wide and welcoming hazel eyes with light brown freckles perfectly placed atop both cheeks are exact replicas of his charismatic mother. His unique blackish-red hair is perfectly cropped, accentuating his natural charm.

Guide Lius grins, stiffening his pupils and forcing them to stop from circling him.

The three Seats attack all at once and the exhibition begins.

Guide Lius spins and flips in numerous directions, parrying his pupils and continuously of returning to his original place. After a few minutes of this, Jhene slides into her Guide and with a gloved palm, creates a multitude of magical runes a couple of inches in front of Lius’s midsection. In the same instant, both Kale and Liisor pull out swords of their own and swing with extreme speed and impact at Lius’s neck and knees.

From a slit within his cloak behind his back, Guide Lius slides out his most recognized weapon, a very plain and simple long sword… at least, it is very plain and simple at first glance. In truth, the blade of the sword is from a magnificently clear unknown metal, which has a formidable amount of Lius’s black aura continuously surging within it. This simple weapon has no sword-guard and the blade is connected directly to an extended black handle. This weapon is a weapon that was crafted with no known information of its maker and because of this, it has been deemed the name Amaranthine’s Pen.

Just as immediate as the three Seats intense attack was, so too is Guide Lius’s rebuttal.

He contorts his body in a way to evade both weapon assaults from Kale and Liisor. While doing so, a blinding light of whispering magic from Amaranthine’s Pen, negates the whispering magic of Jhene, shoves the three Seats back through the crowd, slamming them hard against opposite courtyard walls. Liisor tries to recover hastily but he is the first to be greeted by Guide Lius. Liisor does his best to fend off his Guide while being prominently mindful of those that scatter from their area. Lius is headstrong in his offensiveness, pressing hard with meaningful thrusts and swipes from his renowned weapon. Liisor escapes severe cuts multiple times by analyzed fractions and is eventually strained to be solely on the defensive with his own sword. Lius eventually grabs the front of Liisor’s cloak and throws him with incomprehensive strength toward the direction of the incoming assault from the other two Seats.

Liisor tilts and flips himself several times so that he may avoid the onlookers as he sails by helplessly. Finally, he catches himself by planting his feet against one of the seven pillars that holds the courtyard together. Gathering himself, Liisor watches as Jhene and Kale spring into the crowd and take on Guide Lius.

“Relax,” Liisor demands of himself, closing his eyes in meditation. “Breathe... take your sword, push off of this pillar and take heed to your mentor’s training. Do not concern yourself of the bystanders and just… breathe.”

He reopens his eyes and within a drawn out breath, Liisor launches himself back into the exhibition where Guide Lius is on the defensive as Kale and Jhene pushes him aggressively against one of the courtyard walls. Guide Lius shifts, displaying extraordinary grace and purpose in his movements. Soon, his back is against the wall and all three of his Seats are with widened smiles as they have finally cornered their teacher.

Guide Lius gives a simple smile of his own as his Seat members are in seconds of nearing him. It is through these few seconds that Lius releases his aura of black energy, which exudes like a rotating ball. Time itself suddenly bends to his will, bringing everyone in the vicinity to a halt, and only he is able to move with ease.

“My whispering truth, I reveal the faintest touch,” Guide Lius mutters, in the eldest language, creating his own magic. Through motionless time, he dashes to each of his learners, placing a magical signet upon their chest before returning back to his original spot and closing his eyes in deep concentration. “Humble them.”

Suddenly, Guide Lius’s rotating ball of black energy whisks away like a swearing gust of wind and time returns to its defined hierarchy of things. There is only one difference from a moment ago. Jhene, Kale, and Liisor are no longer approaching their Guide but instead are flailing backwards, colliding severely against the unshakable center of the eldest courtyard.

This is the stature of the Ascended Guide.

Lius sheathes his knowing weapon.

He calmly returns to the center in which his pupils are slowly bringing themselves to stand. “You three did well. This is the first time that I undoubtedly needed to reach into my depths. I am impressed by the matured growth of you all.”

“You provide them with an established training lesson, Lius,” an acquainted voice praises in the background, nearing. “I am the one whom is most impressed.”

The sound of Roen’s voice gives an immediate sense of jubilee for those who train. They have missed him and they make it transparently clear through the gleeful smiles and adoring eyes. They rush to him with an elated sprint. Upon reaching him, all but one throw their arms around his neck like younglings seeing their long missed father. The one remains back a few steps and just takes in the sight with a humbled and appreciative smile.

“The lesson would have been well more received had the words passed through the assertiveness of your voice,” Lius teases, relaxing his lengthy slim frame and modestly resting his hands on top of one another behind his back.

Roen glances over all of his pupils with a straight face before finally relinquishing a hefty smile. His typical narrow gold eyes light up and expand with genuine attachment, his mind clears of only the familiar images of his pupils, and his love for those before him shines radiantly from his soul. The group is overcome with emotion for their rune and they immediately collapse against him, giving a rambunctious and loving embrace.

“Glad to see everyone in boisterous spirits. Especially after witnessing such an exuberant but eye wearing exhibition,” another familiar voice asserts, interrupting the grateful hug of Roen and his loving group. This particular voice comes from the highest esteem person of the Angellius demesne, Crown Quince. “And good to see that you have returned from your journey so euphoric, Roen. Then again, who would not be so jubilant after spending an ample amount of time with their wife and child.”

Crown Quince’s long aged face observes his Guide and Seat members with perceiving but appreciatively soft blue eyes. Close behind him is his wife, the Lady of the Angellius demesne, Lady Emilia. Her long auburn hair sway gently across her matured yellow eyes as her wrinkled hands twine into her husbands. All the while, giving an appreciatively creased smile toward the insightful display between Guide and Seats.

 “Thank you, Crown Quince,” Roen appreciates, also bowing. “My family had certainly enjoyed my company. My attendance home became even greater when my wife gave me the utmost news. She is with child.”

Everyone’s eyes light up with sheer joy and happiness for Roen. For one person in particular though, the news of Roen’s second child is bitter sweet.

“A life… for a death,” Lady Emilia expresses through a long and sorrowed swallow.

The group’s enthusiastic gaze quickly becomes one of bafflement, particularly Guide Lius.  “Death?”

Crown Quince nod. “Roen, I am certain that you are already aware. Such knowledge would have travelled fastest to your home.”

Roen inhales heavily and then exhales even heavier. His matured and delighted face falls into a look that now mimics his seeming tone, numb. “My mother. Her existence has been taken.”

“Your mother is one of the few Archaics to accomplish becoming a Glass Being,” Lius tells, admiringly but with a mournful tone. “Her perishing is unfathomable.”

“We agree,” Lady Emilia states, her voice soft but firm and concise. “That is why we have forged a group to investigate the troubling occasion.”

“You have forged a group, yet we are not included,” Lius questions, still trying to be as respectful to the Crown and Lady as possible. Thankfully for him, he has gained a tremendous amount of trust and respect with both, over the years, and offense from Lius is hard pressed. “Certainly we would be the better choice to investigate the matter. Especially considering our closeness to our Rune.”

“One would guess that this forged group consists of Prince Quintence and his dumbfound minion, Dillith,” Jhene scoffs under whispering repulse.

Liisor, seeming to be the only one to have heard Jhene’s apparent disgust, snickers. Not just because he shares the same sentiment as Jhene but also, he enjoys every shown emotion by her.

“It is okay, Lius and Jhene,” Roen comforts, signaling them to refrain with a calming hand. “I trust in Crown Quince and Lady Emilia… and their wisdom.”

“Thank you for your understanding, Roen,” Crown Quince appreciates, displaying a mesmerizing smile of appreciation and humbleness. “With that being said, we do need your aid toward the preparations of gathering those from the other demesnes. We shall have a grand funeral for your mother.”

Roen bows as he clears his throat. “I am respectfully of your will.”

“You honor us, Roen,” Lady Emilia appreciates before playfully elbowing Crown Quince in the side of his stomach, making him chuckle a bit. “And here my husband worried that you would be more concerned about participating in the investigation.”

“You truly are the definition of loyalty,” Crown Quince adds with blushing cheeks.

Roen bows respectfully as meek clouds denounce the rays of the sun from above. “If it is without much hindrance may I trouble you with one request?”

The shadowing clouds distantly rumble in counsel. There is much that dwells within this request and these clouds attempt frantically to exploit the certain coming of atrociousness from the humbled asking.

Crown Quince’s eyes amplify with sprite, quick to reply. “Of course Roen, anything.”

Remaining bowed and waiting for the shroud from the dampening grey clouds above to be all that may expose his true intent, Roen makes his single most significant appeal. “My sacred and adored mother has resided inside the Glass Sanctuary, which is held at an even grander esteem. I would request for her burial ceremony to be within that in which she has dwelled for so long.”

“We acknowledge your request, Roen,” Crown Quince responds with such haste that it almost seems as if his reply is a continued sentence to Roen. “We shall lower her to rest underneath the Psalms of Amaranthine’s Ambiance.”

Crown Quince and Lady Emilia returns the bow, just enough so that Roen may distinguish their reverence toward him. Roen returns the respect with a deeper bow. Within his furthered bow for his Crown and Lady though, his underlining is hinted. It is an insinuated meaning of suggested hurt, betrayal, and callousness. Those who he loved the most have deceived him in the basest of ways and although he desires nothing more than to lash out with merited emotions, he is exceedingly wise enough to acknowledge that every bit of his feelings and desires must remain underlined inside… a slight.

The clouds let out booming growl of exasperation.

Upon the three returning to stand up straight, Crown Quince and Roen share a deep-rooted gaze. It is a gaze that showcases a long history of being entwined… a destiny that was coupled early on. They have known each other since first reaching maturity as a newly announced Crown is always paired with his just as appointed Rune.

This particular Crown and Rune grew a friendship and loyalty toward one another almost immediately. Through every trial and tribulation that is warranted for a Crown and Rune, the two leaned on each other wholeheartedly to ensure they overcame anything and everything. As time permitted them to, their relationship grew to a more intimate of sorts as they found themselves becoming more like brothers.

With an illuminating and youthful smile, Crown Quince walks over to his dearest friend and places bulky hands on the shoulders of Roen. “I am glad you have returned my friend.”

Roen returns a half formed smile as he nods in acceptance.

Crown Quince gives one strong pat against Roen’s strongly built back before he and Lady Emilia turn to vanish within the walking crowd. As the Crown and Lady departs, Roen carefully narrows his gold contemplating eyes. His mind is suddenly flooded by images… memories of how abundant his love and adoration for the two has been. Remembering the many times he was asked to fulfill a delicate quest, or mentor their beloved children. He reflects on all the sincere smiles they shared and the promises they made between the three, and kept.

The second that only the shadows of Crown Quince and Lady Emilia are left to see, Roen’s peaceful reflections retreats to the more intimate truths of his relationship with them. He grits his teeth, seething as he envisions who Quince and Emilia truly are, the secrets they withheld from him, and the lies they will undoubtedly continue to speak. He knows now that they are neither his friend nor kin or even beloved. He is a means to an end for them. A concealer of sorts… and he has come to see that the only obligation, the only destiny of his in which he should hold dear is to uncover the knowledge he, and all others, had been so forsaken to view.

“Rune,” Guide Lius calls.

Roen looks over his shoulder with a loving smile toward his most esteemed student. “I will never get you out of the mindset that I am no longer the Rune, will I?”

“Not even for a second,” Lius shares, returning the affectionate smile. “We are heading out to enjoy the persona of the demesne while the sun is at its peak. We would love to have you join us.”

The others hurry behind Lius and stare at Roen with wide hopeful eyes.

Roen turns to them, his smile ever wider. “I most certainly will. First, I will put away my things.”

“Great!” Lius replies, gleefully. “We shall see you there… Rune.”

The two nod, not speaking any further. Then again, these two have never needed to speak many words to comprehend one another. A lot of times, most of the time, this pair has been jokingly thought to be of one person. Their similarities are uncanny and the way they treasure their parallel principles is extraordinarily rare.

“Thank you, my Guide,” Roen appreciates as he walk backwards, progressively blending into the fast flowing crowd. “I shall see you soon.”

Lius watches his Rune appreciatively for a moment longer before eventually dashing off to meet up with his comrades. The entire group share one considerate glance and smile before they all eagerly leave. The second he is no longer able to his his pupils, Roen grabs his things and hurries off to his living quarters.

Angellius Sight.

It is the tower that is tallest within the Eldest Castle. Cylinder in shape and possesses the most matured and pristine red stone from the Angellius demesne. Wrapped throughout the entire tower are writings in original text, which tells the precious story about Amaranthine, the first Archaics, and the creation of Angellius Sight. Atop the magnificent tower, suspended high above, is a four-layered glass halo that reflects the energy of the heavens, and if closely paid attention to, scribes in original text can also be seen written on the layers.

“I am the star of the morning,” Kale reads the nearest and smallest floating halo.

Princess Florsza takes hold of Kale’s hand and leans against his arm as she finishes the wordings on the closest halo. “Ascended from the seven heavens.”

Jhene, who is on the other side of Kale, looks up and reads the words that are engraved on the second halo. “I am the essence of all dimensions, ascended from the seven living streams.”

Liisor settles slightly behind Jhene, his intense red eyes are fixated on the words upon the third halo. “I am the wake of the three crescents, ascended from the celestial truth.”

Guide Lius, with his hands resting together behind his back and standing a fair distance behind the group, gazes in awe at the fourth halo. “I am the ring of him and her, ascended from " ”

“ " the destiny of the destined,” Roen finishes, speaking furthest behind the group.

No one turns to him, but the immediate smiles for their Rune finally joining them, is apparent. Roen settles next to his most cherished pupil, Lius, and mirrors his stance.

“Destiny of the destined,” Guide Lius exhales into the strengthening winds. “What does the phrase mean for you, Rune?”

Before replying, Roen looks up at the four suspended glass halos and takes in the words of all that is engraved on them. His mind returns him to his final moments with his mother at the Glass Sanctuary. The gold in his eyes glisten with a fervent purpose, recalling his actions and regaining the sensation of his destined implications. The small black hairs on his arms rise with significant reason, retelling Roen of all that he has learned and gained from knowing what he now knows.

He takes in a deep breath as his definition for destiny, forms sternly to mind.

Roen lets out an exaggerated exhale before finally bringing words to tongue, giving way to his usual rich deep teacher-esque tone. “In the end, destiny reveals truth, truth ensures ascension, and ascension gives way to absolute clarity… imposing all things false, to fall.”

His pupils nod in agreement.

Although they do not see the underline from his words, his pupils still know this truth first hand. Roen’s words are of the pledge they all swore when becoming members of the Ascended. Therefore, they stare at him… silent. Taking in their Rune’s persona as the atmosphere around them seem to suddenly swell with a shroud of watchful still. The normal bright white clouds seem to dampen as they roll around like a stirring ocean. Flashes can be seen sporadically coloring the sea of clouds but lightning dares not to interrupt the altering minutes of the present. Even the winds are careful of its excessive howling and instead maneuvers with calculated measures.

Something about this moment makes everyone turn in Roen’s direction. They take in the casted shadows that reflect against his tense lengthy body. The strain around his round eyes, as if he has not slept in ages, brings them worry. Even his long black hair that barely covers his ears are damp, but not with tired sweat. It is the weight of a sorrowed fever and they have all taken notice.

“What is wrong, Rune?” Kale asks, his hazel eyes examining his rune.

Rune Roen remains mute, his face growing so troubled.

A gust of wind whips piercingly around them and everyone stays silent until the moment passes. Soon, the winds calm and finally, Roen breaks his quietness. “None of you shall participate in the burial ceremony for my mother.”

Everyone’s eyes widen with surprise. “What?”

Lius shifts in front of his Rune with a seriousness that mimics all that is now behind him. “Why?”

“This is not for debate,” Roen stresses, his tone demanding and stern. His gold pupils are direct and his thick eyebrows narrow. Nothing about his demeanor welcomes compromise. “And I will make sure that Prince Quintence, Dilith, as well as Nil, do not participate either. I am sorry to do this, but it is what I most need from you all.”

They stare at their Rune blatantly confused and completely taken back by his command. They pride themselves in being earnest extensions of him. His pain is their pain, his sorrow is their sorrow, and his intensity their intensity as it has always been. Given the circumstances, they wish most to be next to Roen during his most troubled time. Every bit of their current demeanor acknowledges these emotions.

Thankfully for them, their Rune also recognizes this from them and he is quick to give an assuring explanation. “It is because you are all so connected to me that I am being this adamant. Each of your destinies is part of something far greater than my mother’s burial, or my pain and sorrow, or what you may currently desire. You all may not see it right now but I do… I see it. In fact, I have come to see a great deal of things. Things that each one of you will very well soon see for yourselves.”

Liisor, the one who is usually the slowest to tongue, is surprisingly the first to speak. “Rune Roen, what about your destiny makes you so unwavering?”

The darkening clouds let out a horrid growl. The winds suddenly thrash with anger. Even the sun hurries behind the reacting surroundings as to show its dissatisfaction of Liisor’s question. The heavens are, without a doubt, wholeheartedly aware of the devastating reply that will leave from Roen’s lips and how helpless they are to stop him.

“The answer is simple, Liisor,” Rune Roen assures, his tone matching the seriousness of their surroundings. “The Ascended… must become… the Fallen.”

Author's Note

Roen Angellius has learned horrific secrets about the continent he lives on, the Angellius demesne. Secrets, which weighs so heavily that those who have safeguarded these forbidden truths their entire lives will have no choice but to intervene. But who is right? Those that has burdened their own destinies to protect their way of living? Or the one who despises the very existence of these secrets? It begins with one fateful decision, a single destiny to spark all other destinies, and a confrontation for what matters most… sealed knowledge.