175 Prologue - Order (1/2)
Eclat, the Radiant Capitol of Soleil
It is said in old myth that when the supreme god Helios descended to the mortals, he fashioned for humans a great city wrought from solid sunlight, so brilliant and so pure that no demon nor evil could breach it.
That city was Eclat, the current capitol of Soleil, and looking upon it, one would not doubt the validity of the myth. It was a sprawling city of incredible size, large enough that Riviera, the smallest of the four capitol cities, could fit within the walls of Eclat five times over.
The city's design was reminiscent of the sun, comprised of four concentric walls that each housed a district, and these walls were truly unique in that they were not clumsy, towering hunks of brick and metal. No, they were pure sunlight, barriers of magical golden energy that were said to be remnants of the forged sunlight that Helios fashioned, and to this date, nothing had ever breached them.
Not the warring of men, not the frothing of demons, not the raging of dragons.
Within the innermost ring of Eclat, there towered the royal palace, a fortress of white and gold and blue, and within the boundaries of those gilded walls - no, in a pocket of dimensional space completely sealed off from the outside world - there stood a domed room painted over with black and inlaid with gems to signify the sun, stars, and celestial bodies.
And within, the most powerful force in the entirety of Soleil, no, perhaps the entirety of the world known to man, lay.
Nine chairs flanked a round table of gleaming marble, and atop those chairs sat the duchess Vivienne and the Ascendant Order.
”The sun shines bright and fortunate that most of the Ascendant Order has finally convened in its entirety,” said the duchess Vivienne, though her eyes did lock onto three empty seats. ”As much an entirety as could be, given the peculiar circumstances.”
”Where the hells is Swift?” said Sea Shrike, an imposingly built and late middle aged man clad not in bodysuit, but in scale-like bronze armor. His eyes shone bright and yellow through a curtain of ragged and clumped locks of black hair. ”We've all been called from our posts, important ones, aye, but Swift has the time to laze about?”
”Swift is on a mission of great significance,” said Meld as she leaned forwards, her fingers interlocked together below her chin.
Sea Shrike scoffed, the gills on his neck flaring as he tugged at his unruly beard. ”In Riviera, eh? The vacation city? A load of bollocks, I say to that. Boy's likely drinking and eating his way to restful sleeps every day.”
”And is that a wise idea, your highness?” said Sea Shrike, his burly arms crossed. ”The faith gives hope to the people, and the priests, though they be scummy, fattened pigs many a time, are still needed.”
”The duchess's words are final,” said Sunstar sternly. ”I will not have them opposed.”
”Aye, if only Thunderstrike were here, he'd agree with me,” grumbled Sea Shrike. He also looked to the three empty seats. ”Our numbers are thinning alarmingly fast. First, it was Valkyrie to the Elves' new damned contraption, and now, Thunderstrike to some damned spirit.”
”Thunderstrike's power will find a new heir, and my infiltration to the north has disabled the Elven war ballista,” said Meld. ”A threat to the north is unlikely, especially in consideration that we are not truly at full blown war, merely skirmishing across the Shuddering Spires.
What is more important to talk about in this rare meeting where most of us can be gathered is that of the heir to Thunderstrike's mystic lightning. Hopefully, one better suited to its responsibilities. On that end, Mindeye, my dear, have you perchance found any such heir yet?”
Mindeye sat cross legged on her chair, her tiny frame almost looking like it was getting swallowed up by it. She was a child no more than ten, a little girl in long, wrinkled sundress and waist length white hair she twirled around her fingers.
Wrapped around her forehead were a layer of bandages, splotches of dried blood speckled around them, but her eyes did not indicate any pain, simply a bored, tired look.
”No,” said Mindeye quietly.
A hulking, distinctively inhuman figure stirred in a seat, this time, unlike Mindeye, the figure was not dwarfed by the seat, but instead was far too large for it. Instead of sitting, it instead stood, its towering, spine studded dark green frame lowered hulkingly over the table.
”In a way, that is to be quite expected,” said the figure, its voice surprisingly calm, surprisingly gentle, somewhat hideously contrasting with the blade-toothed, monstrous jaw that uttered them.
”Unlike the rest of us where our abilities come from within our blood and bodies, the power of Thunderstrike, though heroic in origin, is one that has been inextricably bonded to magic of some sort. Instead of relying on Mindeye's intuitive sight which is far more aptly suited to homing in on heroes such as ourselves, perhaps we should rely upon the Arcana?
Eclat holds the Fortuna, the most esteemed of Arcana academies, no? The Grand Visionary and his disciples are certain to be able to scry out a thunderstorm laden with mystical energy.”
”A fair insight, dear Monster,” said Vivienne, smiling. ”I was certain you would utilize your insight today, which is why I wished to bring you back from Trieste. I am correct to assume that the seditionists among the merchants there have been dealt with?”
Monster smiled, and his green flesh shuddered like a desert mirage, his frame miraculously shrinking and shifting colors until he appeared to be an older man, distinctively human, a little overweight with fair skin unblemished by hard work.
He was dressed in expensive tunic and trousers marked with royal purple patches that depicted the side profile of a seagull's face – the symbol of the Merchant's Guild in Trieste.
”All is well in the port city, your highness. The necessary minds have been twisted, and the necessary forms consumed.”
The duchess nodded. ”Excellent. Then you shall see to it that the Fortuna is also adequately screened of treacherous thoughts before we rely upon them.”
”Most certainly,” said Monster as he sat in his chair, his human form able to fit comfortably within its bounds.
”Then what's this meeting called for?” said Sea Shrike. ”Elvish bastards aren't acting up and no rebellious plot to wrangle with because o' that…Monster over yonder. I've a mighty important post in the southern seas making sure those damned Darkbeasts don't flood the coast. I'd like to return and prevent the mass slaughter o' innocents in Duvin, if you please.”
”You dare talk to the duchess in such manner?” said Sunstar as he began to hover above his chair, the light around him growing brighter.
”You want a scrap, sunny boy?” said Sea Shrike. ”I've put down arrogant little whelps like you more times than these old bones can count.”
Mindeye shrunk into her seat, putting her hands over her ears as burying her face into her knees as she froze up, her breathing growing erratic.
Meld immediately leaped out of her seat to come to Mindeye's side, putting a gentle, soothing hand through the young girl's hair.
”Both of you,” said Meld. ”Would be wise to stop, lest you want her to lash out and reduce your brains to paste.”
Sea Shrike grumbled as he sat back into his seat, and Sunstar's remained expressionless as he floated down.
Meld got onto Mindeye's seat and put the little girl on her lap. Mindeye snuggled into the older hero, shivering.
”This is a meeting of strategy, not a competition between fragile manhoods.” Meld nodded to the duchess. ”Might I ask how it is going in securing a replacement for Valkyrie?”
”Based on the information presented to me in our last meeting, that would be the half hero in Riviera, no?” said Monster as he crossed his legs and put them atop the table.
”Gods, the daughter of that poor priestess?” said Sea Shrike as he gave a pointed glare to Sunstar.
”What must be done must be done,” said Sunstar simply.