7

  The Western Palace

  The Western Palace was a masterpiece of quiet grandeur, a space that seemed to echo with the stories of past victories and the weight of future trials. The walls of the main hall were lined with towering tapestries, their vibrant threads weaving tales of Emberfall’s champions. Each tapestry captured a moment of triumph, a legacy etched into the fabric of Solaria’s history.

  Alyc moved slowly along the rows of tapestries, her fingers grazing the edge of one that depicted a warrior standing victorious atop a battlefield. His blade, raised high, shimmered in the light of the twin suns as if the thread itself held the glow of Divinia’s celestial bodies.

  The most striking tapestry was positioned at the hall's center. It depicted Emberfall’s first champion, a towering figure clad in armor that seemed almost alive with flames. His face was fierce and determined, his sword thrust skyward as he stood before the gates of Solaria, his triumph immortalized in intricate detail. Around him, ribbons of fire wove through the scene, a testament to Emberfall’s enduring strength and spirit.

  Alyc’s breath caught as she studied the scene. She imagined her father standing there, his own image captured forever in the threads. Her mind wandered further, daring to picture herself among these champions one day, her name whispered with reverence in halls like this.

  The thought both exhilarated and unsettled her. She had always dreamed of making her father’s name known all over, of proving herself worthy of the Halcyhon name. Yet standing here, surrounded by the weight of Emberfall’s legacy, the reality of those dreams felt heavier than she had anticipated.

  Durk approached silently, his presence a steadying force beside her. He stood for a moment, studying the same tapestry she had been admiring. The firelight from the sconces played across his weathered face, highlighting the strength and resolve that had carried him through countless battles.

  “This place is beautiful,” Alyc said softly, her voice tinged with awe.

  Durk nodded, his eyes fixed on the tapestry. “It is. But beauty like this can be deceiving.” He turned to her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. “Solaria hides its dangers well, Alyc. It may dazzle you with its light, but don’t let that light blind you to the shadows beneath it.”

  Alyc met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting a mix of determination and uncertainty. “I’ll be careful, I promise,” she said, her voice steady despite the flicker of doubt she felt.

  Durk’s hand lingered for a moment before he let it fall to his side. “I know you will,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “But remember this: not everything here is as it seems. Stay vigilant. Trust your instincts.”

  Alyc nodded, the weight of his words settling over her like a cloak. She turned back to the tapestry, her thoughts shifting to the Trials that would begin tomorrow. The stories depicted here were more than just victories they were reminders of the sacrifices and struggles that came before them.

  The hall itself seemed to breathe with the memories of those who had walked these paths before. The flickering firelight danced across the tapestries, bringing the figures within them to life. Alyc could almost hear the clang of swords, the roar of victory, the whispers of those who had stood where she now stood, facing challenges that would define their legacies.

  As the company continued to explore their quarters, Alyc couldn’t shake the feeling that these halls held more than just history they held expectation. The weight of Emberfall’s legacy loomed large, and she felt both honored and daunted to be a part of it.

  Durk stood nearby, his expression unreadable as he watched the competitors moving among the tapestries. His presence was a silent reassurance, a reminder that no matter how daunting the trials ahead might be, they would face them together.

  For now, Alyc allowed herself to linger in the moment, drawing strength from the stories around her. Tomorrow, the Trials would begin, and the path forward would demand everything they had to give. But tonight, in this hall filled with echoes of the past, she felt the stirrings of hope.

  And somewhere in the distance, a melody seemed to linger in the air, as if the walls themselves hummed with the promise of what was yet to come.

  The path to the Divine Temple wove through the heart of Solaria, where the city’s beauty seemed to reach its peak. Golden sunlight poured across the streets of polished marble, and crystal-clear streams meandered beside them, their surfaces shimmering like mirrors. The group moved in a hushed line, their footsteps quiet on the radiant stone, their thoughts heavy with anticipation.

  When the temple came into view, Alyc found herself slowing to take in its splendor. Rising from the heart of the city, the Divine Temple was a marvel of celestial design. Its spires stretched toward the heavens, crowned with symbols of the gods that refracted sunlight into cascading rainbows. Intricate carvings of cosmic battles and celestial harmony adorned its walls, their golden inlays catching the light and giving the structure an otherworldly glow.

  The massive silver doors swung open as the group approached, moving without sound or visible effort, as if the temple itself invited them in. Inside, the air felt lighter, imbued with a sense of reverence. Gold and silver mosaics stretched across the walls, depicting the creation of Divinia and the gods’ enduring connection to the mortal realm. Above, a vaulted ceiling painted in deep indigo sparkled with constellations, their soft glow lending the room the appearance of an eternal night sky.

  A faint melody filled the air, played on celestial instruments hidden somewhere within the temple. The music resonated deep within Alyc, calming her nerves and drawing her thoughts away from the uncertainty of the Trials.

  At the center of the temple stood four towering statues, each one a masterpiece of divine craftsmanship. Alyc felt a pull toward them, her steps slowing as she took in their details.

  Thanatia, Goddess of Death, was shrouded in an aura of shadow that seemed to absorb the light around her. Her midnight-blue skin had a velvety depth, and her spectral white eyes glowed softly, watching all who entered with an unyielding gaze. Symbols of life and death adorned her flowing robes, intricate patterns that seemed to shift subtly as Alyc looked at them. Her presence was solemn and commanding, a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the inevitability of transformation.

  Solarios, God of the Sun, stood radiant and powerful. His golden skin shimmered as though it contained the light of the suns themselves, and his fiery red hair cascaded like molten gold. His blazing amber eyes captured the strength and vitality of the sun’s energy. The armor he wore, forged from solar metal, gleamed with intricate patterns that seemed to ripple like waves of heat. Alyc felt a surge of energy and warmth as she stood before him, a reminder of the resilience and life-giving force he represented.

  Lunarius, Goddess of the Moon, was serene and luminous. Her flowing silver hair shone like liquid moonlight, and her tranquil blue eyes held an ageless wisdom. Her robes, adorned with delicate lunar motifs, rippled with subtle movement, as though they were caught in a gentle tide. Her presence was calming and introspective, offering quiet guidance and a sense of peace. Alyc felt her shoulders relax as she looked at the statue, her thoughts briefly turning inward.

  Terranus, God of the Earth, exuded a quiet strength. His deep brown skin was textured like rich soil, and his hair, a tangled mass of green and brown, resembled vines and roots. His earthy green eyes radiated warmth and stability. The statue itself seemed alive, with vines curling around its base and leaves sprouting from the stone as if the earth had risen to shape his image. Alyc felt grounded in his presence, reassured by the enduring strength of the natural world.

  She moved slowly among the statues, her gaze lingering on each one. The gods felt more real here, their presence woven into every detail of the temple. Alyc’s heart swelled with awe and humility, her connection to the divine deepening as she stood in their shadow.

  Durk stood nearby, watching her with a quiet intensity. His face, usually stern, softened as he saw the wonder in his daughter’s eyes.

  “They’re incredible,” Alyc whispered, her voice barely audible.

  Durk nodded, his expression unreadable. “They are. But don’t forget, Alyc, even gods cast shadows.”

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  His words lingered in her mind as she turned back to the statues. Around her, the other members of the company moved in silence, their voices hushed in the presence of such grandeur. Even Prigo, who typically carried himself with smug confidence, seemed subdued, his gaze fixed on Solarios’s statue as though seeking strength.

  The temple’s atmosphere held them all in a state of reverence. The celestial music, the glow of the mosaics, and the presence of the statues combined to create a space that felt outside of time a sanctuary where the mortal and divine coexisted in perfect harmony.

  As the group gathered near the exit, Alyc stole one last glance at the statues. Their towering forms seemed to watch over the temple, a reminder of the power and responsibility that came with the Trials. She felt a quiet determination settle over her, a spark of resolve igniting within her heart.

  The Divine Temple was more than a place of worship. It was a testament to the balance between creation and destruction, strength and serenity, light and shadow. And as Alyc stepped into the golden sunlight outside, she carried that balance with her, her spirit lighter yet more resolute than ever.

  The grand hall of the Western Palace came alive with laughter, music, and the clinking of goblets. Banners bearing Emberfall’s sigil hung proudly from the high, vaulted ceiling, their deep crimson hues glowing softly in the golden light of the sconces. Long tables, laden with roasted meats, fresh bread, and an assortment of colorful fruits, stretched across the room. The smell of honeyed wine and spiced ale filled the air, mingling with the warmth of shared camaraderie.

  For the first time since their journey began, the company seemed to breathe freely. The somber weight of Sace’s death and the looming Trials lifted, replaced by an infectious joy that spread from one table to the next. Competitors sang old Emberfall songs, their voices rising in hearty unison. Soldiers shared exaggerated tales of past battles, drawing laughter from their companions. Even Durk, who rarely allowed himself moments of levity, sat among the competitors, a mug of ale in hand, recounting a humorous mishap from his early days as a swordmaster.

  “You should’ve seen the look on his face,” Durk said, his deep voice carrying over the din. “One moment, he’s taunting me with that fancy blade of his, and the next, he’s flat on his back, staring up at the sky like a stunned owl!”

  The table erupted in laughter, the sound echoing warmly through the hall. Alyc watched from a small table near the corner, a smile tugging at her lips. It was rare to see her father so at ease, and though she didn’t join the raucous crowd, she felt a quiet joy in observing the scene.

  Yet, beneath the surface, a sense of detachment lingered. Alyc’s thoughts drifted to the Trials and the divine mysteries of Solaria. The grand hall, for all its liveliness, felt like a fleeting reprieve a momentary pause before the storm.

  Her gaze wandered across the room, landing on the farthest table where Prigo sat with the King, Queen, and Erik. His posture was relaxed, but his sharp green eyes flickered with calculation as he engaged in quiet conversation with the royal family. The sight of him there, so comfortably aligned with power, sent a ripple of unease through Alyc.

  “Not exactly a man of the people, is he?” came a soft, melodic voice behind her.

  Alyc turned, startled, to see the Seer standing there, her silver eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. The ethereal presence of the Seer made the lively hall seem distant, her calm and composed demeanor a stark contrast to the revelry around them.

  “You look just like your mother,” the Seer said, her tone gentle yet deliberate.

  Alyc blinked, her heart skipping a beat. “You… you knew her?”

  The Seer smiled faintly, her gaze holding Alyc’s as though she could see straight into her soul. “No, I did not know her. But I have seen her. I have seen all that was, all that is, and all that could be.”

  Her words carried a weight that made Alyc’s breath hitch. “Then… can you tell me about her? About what you’ve seen?”

  The Seer’s smile remained, though it was tinged with a certain sadness. “Not yet, child. In time, you will learn all you need to.”

  Before Alyc could press further, the Seer turned, her flowing robes shimmering like liquid silver as she moved to the center of the hall. The revelry quieted almost instantly, all eyes drawn to her as if compelled by some unseen force.

  The Seer raised her hands, and her voice filled the hall not with words, but with a song.

  The warrior stands, his hands are still,

  The blade once sharp, now lost to will.

  A heavy breath, a final sigh,

  The winds will carry, the echoes cry.

  The sun will set, the stars will weep,

  A shadow falls, the soul to keep.

  A path untaken, a door unclosed,

  The world moves on, but none have known.

  The silence lingers, the earth stands still,

  A steady pulse, now soft and chill.

  The mountain watches, the river bends,

  And time will mark where it all ends.

  The sun will set, the stars will weep,

  A shadow falls, the soul to keep.

  A path untaken, a door unclosed,

  The world moves on, but none have known.

  The name remains, the heart fades slow,

  Yet through the night, the stars still glow.

  A warrior’s journey, not in vain,

  The song will echo, the quiet rain.

  The melody was unlike anything Alyc had ever heard. It resonated deeply, stirring emotions she couldn’t name and bringing tears to the eyes of more than a few soldiers and competitors. The hall, so recently alive with laughter and conversation, was now a sanctuary of silence, every ear tuned to the haunting beauty of the Seer’s voice.

  When the final note faded, the Seer lowered her hands, her silver eyes sweeping across the room. “The Trials begin tomorrow,” she said, her voice warm yet commanding. “Rest well, for the path ahead will demand all that you are.”

  The six members of the Divine Council rose in unison, their presence as commanding in silence as it was in speech. One by one, they exited the hall, their departure a reminder of the gravity of what lay ahead.

  As the last of the Divine Council disappeared through the grand doors, the spell over the room seemed to break. Conversations resumed, though they were quieter now, more subdued. The soldiers lingered over their drinks, the competitors exchanged murmured words of strategy, and the servants began clearing the tables.

  Alyc remained seated, her mind racing with thoughts of her mother, the Seer’s cryptic words, and the celestial song that still echoed in her ears. She glanced toward her father, who was now standing, gesturing for the competitors to head to their quarters. He caught her gaze and gave a small nod, his expression one of quiet reassurance.

  As the hall emptied, Alyc rose, her heart heavy with questions yet steadied by a newfound determination. Whatever the Trials demanded, she would face them with strength and resolve.

  The first light of dawn spread across Solaria, illuminating the spires and streets with a golden radiance. The twin suns hovered low on the horizon, their warmth slowly chasing away the cool of the night. The Western Palace stirred to life as the Emberfall company prepared for the most pivotal day of their journey.

  In the courtyard, the competitors moved with purpose, checking their weapons, adjusting armor straps, and securing supplies. The tension in the air was palpable, each of them carrying the weight of their mission with stoic determination.

  Alyc stood at one of the arched windows overlooking the courtyard, her hands resting lightly on the sill as she observed the scene below. Her heart swelled as she watched Bregund meticulously inspecting his leather armor, Vienna sharpening her blade with practiced precision, and Brook exchanging quiet words with Magra, his usually jovial demeanor replaced by calm resolve.

  The competitors, chosen for their strength and skill, represented the finest of Emberfall. Yet, as Alyc watched, she couldn’t ignore the pang of longing that stirred within her. Though she was not among them, she felt deeply connected to their mission, the weight of Emberfall’s honor pressing on her just as heavily.

  Durk’s commanding voice rang out, breaking the early morning stillness. “Let’s move! The coliseum won’t wait for us!”

  Alyc descended to the courtyard, finding her father moving between the competitors with his usual blend of sharp observation and quiet reassurance.

  “Bregund,” Durk said, pausing beside the wiry competitor. “Don’t get caught up in speed alone. Keep your head steady. Precision wins as often as speed.”

  “Yes, sir,” Bregund replied, nodding firmly.

  Durk moved on, stopping by Vienna. “Your focus is your weapon as much as your blade. Don’t let the noise distract you from what needs to be done.”

  Vienna gave a small nod, her hand tightening briefly around the hilt of her sword.

  When he reached Brook, Durk’s expression softened slightly. “Brook, keep your strength under control. It’s a tool, not a hammer to swing at everything that moves.”

  Brook chuckled, the sound muted compared to his usual booming laugh. “Understood, sir.”

  Finally, Durk approached Magra, whose dark eyes flickered toward him as she adjusted the strap of her quiver. “Magra, you know how to handle yourself. Just remember, you’re part of a team. Watch their backs, and they’ll watch yours.”

  Magra gave a subtle nod, her expression as unreadable as ever.

  Durk straightened, his gaze sweeping over the group as he raised his voice. “Listen up! You’re representing Emberfall. This isn’t just about you it’s about our kingdom, our people, and the trust they’ve placed in us. Stay focused, work together, and trust in what you’ve trained for. You’re ready.”

  The competitors nodded, their resolve hardening under his words. Alyc felt a surge of power watching her father guide them, his steady hand shaping the team into a unified force.

  The King and Queen emerged from the palace, their regal presence drawing all eyes. With a signal from the King, the group began to form up. The royal guards flanked the monarchs, while the competitors took their places behind them. Durk and Alyc joined the rear of the procession, along with the remaining members of the company.

  The streets of Solaria were alive with energy as the group departed the palace. Crowds lined the marble roads, their cheers echoing between the buildings. Children waved banners in the colors of their kingdoms, and vendors shouted from their stalls, offering charms for luck and blessings for victory.

  Alyc walked beside her father, her eyes darting between the competitors ahead and the faces in the crowd. The weight of expectation was tangible, pressing down on them as they made their way through the city. Yet, the excitement of the spectators brought a spark of hope to the moment, a reminder of what the Trials meant to so many.

  The journey through Solaria showcased the city’s unmatched beauty. Streams of crystal-clear water wove through the streets, catching the morning light and casting dancing reflections on the marble walls. Statues of past champions and divine beings stood sentinel along the path, their carved expressions solemn and watchful.

  As they neared the coliseum, its grandeur became undeniable. The massive structure loomed ahead, its bronze gate