Arc 3: Chapter 44

  Eternal Vow

  Ash's boot crunched over the mist's frosted crust as his gaze moved across the splinters of wood hanging at chin height. Green light cast long shadows from the raised mannequins' feet across the stone, while the white cubes held a rigid crown against the black void.

  "Anna? Ash?" Pell's voice carried across the frozen platform. "Anyone hurt?"

  "Stay sharp." Ash turned to Anna. "The trial hasn't released us."

  The cubes jittered against the black void. Heat rippled through the air as wooden splinters dropped with a sharp clatter. A heavy thrum rose through the platform, and the frosted crust over the mist fractured into a web of fine lines. Scattered cubes swept inward in a sudden magnetic rush, drawing together from every corner of the void. The fragments slammed together and fused into a single mass. At its core, a deep blue glow awakened, blooming brighter with each pulse.

  "Ash." Anna's eyes stayed locked on the mass. "Now what?"

  The fused shape began to change, blue radiance pouring over shifting edges. A colossal figure rose from the heart of the glow, suspended in the air. It was human in silhouette, towering over the platform. Silver armor covered its form. Sigils and ancient script ran across every plate in tight, engraved lines, geometric patterns threading between crests and bands. Wide leather straps, the color of faded gold, cinched the plates to their frame. A blue light flared within the narrow slit of the helm and seeped through the seams, tracing twin dragons coiled across the breastplate.

  For a long moment, the construct hung motionless. Then its head turned, scanning the ground.

  The construct's head completed its slow turn. It straightened, right gauntlet rising until it struck the breastplate. Metal rang, and a heavy vibration rolled through the platform, a pressure wave slamming into Ash's face.

  From deep within the blue glow, a resonant voice emerged, carrying across the void.

  "I am Reynard, Guardian of the Old Order. You have passed the trial, yet—"

  The construct held its salute for a moment longer before letting its right hand fall slowly to its side. "This trial belongs to those sworn to the dragons. You are not among them."

  Reynard's voice boomed through the void as the blue glow in his armor intensified, blazing brighter along its seams and casting sharp highlights across every engraving. Each word vibrated in the air, distorting the space around him. "Speak. What brings uninitiated souls to sacred ground?"

  Pell stepped forward, hands clasped tightly in front of him as he faced Reynard's massive frame. "Sir, please. We didn't choose to come here. None of us knows what's happening."

  Reynard's helmet rotated away from Pell toward the drifting ruins in the distance. The silver neck-plates slid over one another with a faint grinding sound.

  "The choice was forced upon you." His massive silver gauntlets lowered to the sides and struck the thigh plates with a heavy clink. A ripple of blue light moved across the engraved dragons on the breastplate. "Someone has taken the sand-glass that anchors the Domain to the mortal world. The void has spilled into the sacred ground," Reynard said.

  Voss looked up at the towering construct. "Guardian, can you get us out of here?"

  "Sacred?" Anna cut in and moved forward over the stone beneath the gray mist, stepping into the construct's shadow. "Look around you." She closed the distance until Reynard filled her vision, then planted her feet wide and lifted her gaze to meet the glowing helm. "All I see are ruins suspended in emptiness, broken chains, and a sky that spits on every law of existence."

  Deep laughter resonated through the construct's armor, rolling outward in slow waves across the platform. "Ah, a hero from beyond." Reynard lifted his right hand and gestured at the void surrounding them. "Summoned one, what you witness is only the trial's outer shell. The Domain's true nature remains hidden."

  Anna straightened, brushing dust from her vest. "Wait. How can you tell I'm from another world?" Her fingers lingered on the worn fabric before she let her hand fall.

  The mana glow ebbed. Shadows gathered in the seams of Reynard's frame as the light retreated, leaving Anna's face lit in a faint blue tint. "Summoned souls carry a distinct resonance," Reynard said, leaning forward until his helm hovered above her. "We fought alongside your kind when the light fled the world."

  "This setting does not honor the conversation ahead. Allow me to show you something more fitting." Reynard tilted his head upward, scanning the shattered buildings and broken chains drifting through the endless dark.

  Reynard drew his arms back, elbows bending as his silver gauntlets swept wide. The air between his hands rippled and bowed outward under the pressure of gathering mana. Then he drove his hands inward. Space warped around his palms as the air was yanked toward him. His palms slammed together in a single thunderous clap, and the shockwave shattered the void. Broken chains and drifting ruins smeared into ribbons of midnight ink that tore inward, spiraling faster and faster toward the platform's heart.

  Between Reynard's hands, the ink compacted into a single dark nucleus that kindled and began to drink the world.

  For a single heartbeat, the void turned searing, blinding white. The world flattened into a blank sheet of light around the dark nucleus held between Reynard's hands.

  The nucleus burst into an ink-black tornado. It tore from Reynard's palms and roared outward in a massive spiral that swallowed the white light, plunging Ash and the platform into total darkness. The vortex peaked, held for one second, and then the sound dropped out as the blackness thinned and dissolved into the air.

  Gray fog flooded the emptiness in rolling tides, building walls of pale vapor around the platform. A towering cylinder of haze sealed the space, and deep within, an ember ignited. Gold light bled outward in thick layers, spreading through the fog until the entire chamber glowed in molten radiance.

  The light clinging to the floor dissolved the haze in gentle waves. A majestic staircase of pure white marble rose from the thinning mist, climbing toward the distant gold. As the fog withdrew, a broad plaza of polished flagstones revealed itself at the foot of the stairs, stretching outward until it met the pale wall of vapor on all sides.

  Ash lifted his gaze and followed the staircase to its summit. A grand temple stood upon the elevated base. Seamless marble walls soared upward, brushing the fog wall and gleaming in the golden light. Towering pillars supported the roof, their surfaces etched with delicate silver tracery and precise geometric patterns. The marble caught the gold filtering through the haze and held it, the entire structure suffused in a warm, radiant glow.

  At the heart of the golden glow, a pale silhouette emerged from the haze and resolved into a statue. A woman carved from marble stood upon the flagstones, head tilted aside, shoulders curving inward. Both hands raised to her face, fingertips grazing her cheeks. The corners of her lips curved upward in a soft smile. Her hair fell in sculpted strands from the crown of her head, cascading in rigid waves across her shoulders and down her back. The marble gown pooled in heavy folds around her bare ankles, one foot turned slightly back.

  Twelve statues of knights knelt in a wide arc, embracing the marble woman from one side. Charcoal black stone armored their arms, legs, and torsos. Gold sigils etched deep into their chest plates and ran along the pauldrons, down the gauntlets, and across the greaves, weaving through the edges of every plate. Stone cowls shadowed their helms. Carved cloaks fell from their shoulders, rigid folds stacking against the flagstones at their knees. Within each hollow cowl, the helm tilted downward, chin lowered toward the collar. Their right palms pressed flat over the heart. The arc curved wide, leaving the space behind her open to the temple's shadow. Golden light slid across the sigils, making them flicker like embers against the dark stone.

  A low pedestal of charcoal-black stone sat within the wide arc of the kneeling knights. Precise characters ran across its top in a clean stack. The golden radiance from the fog pooled within the deep carvings, sharpening the ancient text. Ash’s eyes tracked the lines from left to right.

  The inscription read:

  A woman and her knights remain, a vigil in the gold of the eternal dawn.

  Our lives to the dirt.

  Our blood to the stone.

  Our boots to the mud of the earth's rim.

  Our blades to peace.

  Through all ages, to the end.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Reynard claimed the center of the platform, silver armor blazing as golden light seeped through the gray wall of fog. Anna lingered near him, gaze locked on the upper plaza where the marble woman stood encircled by the kneeling knights in their charcoal-black vigil. Behind her to the left, the group pressed in, Vera clutching Pell’s sleeve while Orin and Voss flanked her, their eyes fixed on the armored knights. Ahead of them, Ash stood with his stare drilled into the marble woman, the twelve kneeling knights, and the temple beyond.

  *The Founder's wife. The twelve knights who vanished with her. I've read about them.*

  Scorched parchment surfaced in Ash's memory, words bleeding through:

  ??? *Official chronicles excluded her entirely. I spent months chasing references through texts.*???

  ??? *All I found were fragments. A dozen lines at most, always the same: 'the Founder's wife.' History left her only the title.*???

  ??? *' When she came—' And then what? The manuscript never said. It ended there, like the writer was afraid to continue.*???

  ???*One knight could level fortifications. The scribe recorded it as fact, not myth. Twelve knights under her command. Who were they?*???

  ???*The creature the scribe described. Those things haven't been witnessed in centuries.*???

  ???*The manuscript ended there. How many never made it home? They fought. They bled. The Peace we have came from their sacrifice.*???

  "What is this place?" Anna's tone broke the hush, snapping Ash from the manuscript's last line and back into the plaza beneath the golden light. She lifted her hand and pointed to the marble woman on the upper plaza.

  "Who is she?" Her finger slid to the wide arc of kneeling armored figures. "And who are they, kneeling around her?"

  Words emerged from deep within Reynard's silver plates, carrying across the space. "Temple of Vows," he said, and gestured toward the temple. "When the sun sank into endless sleep..." He paused for a heartbeat. "The Hollowed came to burn every vow we held sacred."

  Anna cut in. "Stop dancing around it. What happened here?"

  "We fought." Reynard's helm tilted toward her. "The world choked beneath towers of rot. Our queen stood with her Twelve, and we of the Dragon Knight Order held the line at their backs against the dying world."

  Ash spoke. "The archives don't mention her." His gaze moved from the woman to the twelve knights kneeling around her. "Historians never speak of the queen making a stand. Who are the knights at her side? What battle are you describing?"

  The enormous silver form of Reynard leaned in, his helm sinking forward inch by inch. Blue radiance streamed from his plates and washed over Ash's face, pressing the air tight against his chest until breathing turned hot with every heartbeat.

  "You..." Reynard's voice echoed from within the armor. "You carry his eyes. The Founder's eyes."

  The blue glow from Reynard’s helm caught on Ash’s irises. His hand twitched toward the worn fabric of his sleeve before he forced his fingers still. *Can he sense them—the Founder’s eyes?*

  

  Reynard's helm rose slowly as his silver armor straightened, a faint groan seeping through the plates. "Again." His gaze angled toward the arc of kneeling knights. "Oh, brothers... when will the shadows finally lift from our blades? How many more ages must we stand before eternal vows are permitted to sleep in peace?"

  "Wait—what does that mean?" Ash spoke in a rush, his brow creasing as his eyes locked on Reynard's helm.

  "Ah..." Reynard's voice rolled through the golden fog. The radiance in his silver seams faltered, thinning along the armor's joints until it settled into a low hum within the metal. "I crave the silence of that morning. A timid girl burying her face in her palms while twelve shadows swore an oath to the dawn. Before the rot reached our feet."

  The golden glow deep in the fog wavered and dimmed as heavy banks of gray vapor surged across the upper plaza, piling into thick layers that blurred the temple's pillars and archways. Reynard's silver helm shifted toward Ash. "The morning is a dying ember in a ravine of rot. The years' heavy silence will try to swallow the sound of your footsteps. Lock your heart against the abyss with the words you swore."

  The marble woman and the arc of knights vanished as the fog thickened. Their silhouettes thinned, moment by moment, until only pale, blurred shapes remained in the gray. "The hourglass empties." Reynard's voice grew thin, the deep resonance in the silver armor failing. "My hands hold no key to free you from this place. The Domain answers only to its own architecture."

  Reynard's right gauntlet rose. He pressed his palm against silver dragons on his breastplate, metal clinking against metal as the fog swallowed the summit of the stairs.

  "May the blessing of the Twelve shelter your steps," he said.

  Ash's head felt heavy, a deep ache lodged behind his eyes as the world smeared around him. The sound of Anna's rapier scraping the platform reached him. She dropped to one knee, struggling to stay upright. Ash scanned the group. Pell slumped onto his side, hitting the platform with a heavy thud beside Vera. Orin's legs buckled, and he pitched forward, dragging Voss down with him. Voss's palms slammed into the platform as they both collapsed into the mist.

  Reynard leaned forward until the shadow of his massive frame covered Ash and Anna. "Two embers still burn while the rest turn to dust. The Domain breaks the soul's spine, yet you remain upright. Guard your warmth, for this rotted world will attempt to consume you. Sleep now. The dawn is a long march away."

  The golden radiance solidified into a heavy weight that pressed against Ash’s shoulders. His knees struck the stone with a dull thud. Ash's eyelids slid shut.