The voice of the Two Fingers echoed through the hall, and for a heartbeat, ti itself seed to freeze. A deathly silence followed, heavy with the weight of a single word.
Empyrean.
In this land, the title was a singular, terrifying distinction. They were the chosen candidates, selected by the Greater Will to succeed the current god and wield the Law of the next era. Before the Erdtree blood, Marika and the Gloam-Eyed Queen were the Empyreans of their age; their war had been the bloody prologue to the Golden Order.
Lucia knew the fates of the current three. One would ignite a tide of conspiracy on a dark, treacherous night. One would bloom into a scarlet flower of rot on a tragic battlefield. And the last would beco a saint of the masses, only to slumber forever within a Cocoon of Deep Sleep.
Notably, the two pillars of the current dynasty—the perfect Radagon and the favored Godwyn—were not Empyreans.
Lucia's heart hamred against his ribs. To him, this was no honor. It was a sentence. It ant the suffocating surveillance of the Two Fingers and the ruthless scrutiny of the ambitious. If being born a demigod had placed him in the eye of the storm, becoming an Empyrean had thrust him onto the crest of the highest wave.
He looked at the abyss of destiny ahead and realized there was no retreat. He rose and gave a deep, asured bow. "I shall obey the divine oracle."
In those few breaths, he had forced his mind to go cold. The Greater Will did not seem to recognize him as an "Otherworldly Demon," and its decision was absolute. To question it was to invite ruin.
The Two Fingers returned the bow. "From this day, I shall reside in the capital and serve at Your Highness's side. You may call Epsilon."
Epsilon? Lucia caught the naming convention. If Marika's Fingers were Alpha, and Ranni's were Beta, the Greater Will was numbering its candidates like a cosmic ledger.
"This is heartening news, Lucia," Marika said, her voice regaining its fluid serenity. She stepped to his side, her expression filled with a gratified warmth. "To be chosen as a defender of the next Law is our greatest glory."
Lucia offered a faint smile. He glanced around the room. Lansseax looked joyful; Miquella wore a gentle, placid smile; and Malenia looked delighted. Only Radagon, the fanatical defender of the Order, looked as though he had been struck by a frost-like gloom.
"Divine Envoy," Radagon spoke, his voice sharp. "The Ancient Dragons believe in the primordial Ring; they do not belong to the Golden Order."
Lucia saw a flicker of mockery in Marika's eyes as she looked at her husband.
"His Majesty Radagon," Epsilon replied, its voice llow and unyielding. "I have heard your advice. However, the power to decide this matter does not lie with you or . There is a precedent—Princess Ranni, served by Beta, was raised under the Full Moon. She, too, exists outside your Order."
Radagon's fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. He stared at the Fingers for a long ti before exhaling a hollow breath. "I understand."
"Divine Envoy," Marika interjected suddenly, "tradition dictates that every Empyrean signs a soul contract with a Shadow Beast. Will Lucia have an attendant as well?"
Lucia's heart skipped a beat. A Shadow Beast? The kind of "attendant" that was actually a high-level spy, designed to go mad and devour its master if they ever defied the Greater Will?
Listen to , thank you, Lucia thought sarcastically toward the Queen. Please, I don't want a babysitter that can turn into a Black Blade.
"Precisely," Epsilon responded. "Though Miquella and Malenia were unable to sign due to their respective curses, just as the Queen has Maliketh and Ranni has Blaidd, Prince Lucia shall have his own."
The Fingers turned to Lucia. "I shall open the Mist Door. You need only determine your needs in your heart, and the creature in the Lands Between most suited to you will answer your call."
Golden light flowed from Epsilon, weaving into an archway filled with shifting, silver mist.
Lucia was spiraling. He was being forced to install a divine spy by his side. If I have to have one, he thought frantically, let it be sothing useless. Sothing cute that just eats and sleeps. Anything but a Maliketh 2.0 who will cut down for having a rebellious thought.
He focused on that desire for sothing harmless, not noticing the mist beginning to glow. In the next second, light erupted from the door!
A radiant cocoon of light drifted out, floating gently in front of Lucia. He stared at it, his hands numb. When did I hit confirm?!
The cocoon shattered. Amidst the drifting sparks, a creature no larger than a fist revealed itself.
It was a snow-white little fox.
Her fur was like frost, with pale gold, vine-like patterns at the corners of her ice-blue eyes. She was curled into a tiny ball, her fluffy tail—which was half her body length—swaying lazily.
Lucia tentatively reached out and stroked her head. She rubbed against his fingers, opening her eyes to stare at him blankly. Suddenly, the light supporting her vanished. She let out a tiny, startled cry and began to fall.
Lucia caught her mid-air. The little fox scrambled up his arm with a desperate whoosh, gripping his shoulder with tiny claws and refusing to move.
"So... this is his Shadow Beast?" Marika murmured, the silence stretching long and awkward.
Epsilon, usually as composed as stone, was quiet for a long ti. "The Mist Door is a projection of the Empyrean's ntal Image," the Fingers finally spoke. "Prince Lucia is... truly an extraordinary choice for the Greater Will."
Radagon sat in silence, his face a mask of stone. Miquella rested his chin on his hand, looking thoughtful. Lansseax covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
Only Malenia, her eyes sparkling with stars, broke the tension. "Wow... it's so cute!"
User Comments
0 comments from readers