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Salayah’s first travel by ship had been a horrendous experience. She had been trained as a diplomat since she was a whelp, but her travels had been mostly limited by land or air, never sea. Normally other nations came to the Imperium, not the other way around. But this occasion wasn’t like the others.

One week ago, the barrier surrounding the nation of the Ferilyn Meritocracy had fallen.

Her father and Caius’ scouts placed around the island were the first ones to notify the change, even if most people a week ago were terrified by what seemed to be the sudden end of the world.

The intelligence the surveillance soldiers gathered of the ellari homeland told that the damages were far worse on the island, it didn’t limit to the earthquakes and tsunamis that the rest of Houtz had experienced, but also severe spatial damage. Even after a week of heavy surveillance, none had the remotest clue of what had happened.

Salayah’s thoughts were cut off as a white needle broke through the repeating horizon.

“Is that...” The albino draconid’s voice died as the tower became bigger and bigger as the ship approached the island.

“Yes.” Caius nodded at her side, solemnly. “The Arcane Sanctum.”

The heart of Ferilyn was imposing. It was supposedly located in the center of the island, yet the building was so tall that it was the first thing they saw. Caius was calm and mostly reactionless, he had visited the city on previous occasions, even before the skirmish of two decades ago. But for Salayah, this was the first time she saw the stronghold of the ellari. If the ellari hadn’t closed themselves to the outside world, she would’ve most likely been sent to diplomatic mission years ago.

It didn’t take long for the blue forests and white mountains to come into view. She had been taught in her education as a princess about the impossible landscape of Ferilyn yet seeing it with her own eyes was a whole new concept. It was far different than Salayah had thought.

“We are landing soon, your Highness.” The captain of the ship, a draconid as blue as the sea, told her.

“Thank you, captain.” Salayah gifted the sailor with a slight bow.

The reason for her diplomatic mission was none other than a letter they had received a few days before. The meritocracy had changed leadership after the previous High Arcanist perished, and the new one had sent missives all over the world, to all countries and races to meet them under the pretext of opening Ferilyn to the outside world. Even if Salayah knew the remittent, she couldn’t help herself but be anxious. It almost felt like a trap. How could the strongest mage in the world just perish?

She knew how the people in power acted. They would do anything to extend their lifespan. Anything. If the High Arcanist perished... then it wasn’t by age but was murdered.

Salayah gave a short look at Caius, her clad-in-dark knight. If it was a trap, at least she had the luck to be in the protection of the strongest dragonborn in history.

The boat docked in a populated shipyard. Not only with people but also with other vessels. The princess recognized the underwater coral ships of the merfolk and the porous ships of the elementals, made out of shifting rock and water.

It appears we are the last ones to arrive.

There was a lack of human, orc, or centaur vessels, but those races were so insignificant in the political stage that as the imperial princess of Houtz, she couldn’t even be allowed to recognize them or their nations.

Salayah took a step out of the ship, Caius following after her, yet she instantly stopped as she saw the ellari standing in front of her.

Even if ellari tended to be androgynous (or rather female-looking) as a whole, Salayah could recognize the ellari in black uniform as a woman. Her skin tone was a vibrant violet, and her hair a glistering silver, not that dissimilar from her own hair.

But it wasn’t the ellari aesthetics that surprised Salayah. It was the woman’s soul.

White. Indeed, it was white, she would go as far as to say it was pure. How could an adult have such an untainted soul? It defied most of the knowledge she possessed on souls. Nevertheless, that wasn’t the most worrying fact. The strength of the woman’s soul was what mattered. Salayah could instantly point the ellari as an eleven-star mage. That made her wings become numb and her claws itch.

“Greetings, princess Salayah Houtz.” The woman welcomed her with a slight bow. It was slightly different than those Salayah knew. “I am Command Sergeant Major Amira Kalyd and I’ll be your guide to the Arcane Sanctum.”

An eleven-star mage as a simple guide? Did Ferilyn have eleven-star mages laying around, or was this an intimidation strategy?

Because it worked.

“Arcane Veil.” Caius taciturnly added.

“Emperor’s Right Hand.” The amusement disappeared from the woman’s gaze as she peered into the black armor that was Caius. “I am grateful to meet you once more.”

Arcane Veil? Salayah tried to recall her history about Ferilyn. It was about the attacks of a few decades ago, but she had been a child at that time, so she had difficulties remembering. Isn’t that one of the two ellari who fought Caius? Salayah gazed at Caius, subtly indicating to him that he couldn’t attack. The knight was amused by her non-verbal comment. And also at the ellari’s verbal one.

“How so?” The dragonborn took a step forward, towering over even the tall ellari woman.

Caius was one of, if not the most, tall draconid Salayah had seen. The man was even beyond the three-meter mark, and that was without factoring in his colossal horns or the armor he always wore. And even then, there still remained his wings, which unfolded made him look bigger.

“You’ll see soon,” Kalyd responded turning her back as if nothing to the most dangerous dragonborn ever. “Though I’ll add that I have forgiven you.”

“I see,” Caius replied.

Salayah couldn’t understand the exchange between the soldiers’ words and hoped not to. Their conversation stopped and they were prompted to follow the Command Sergeant Major.

The princess was slightly surprised at the lack of a convoy, but considering she had Caius as a bodyguard and a mage of the eleventh star as a guide, she doubted she could be more protected than that.

“We are currently at Lan’el, the port district.” Kalyd narrated following her duty as a guide. “Also, the focus of the Wyrm’s Landing.”

Salayah didn’t recognize the term, but Caius slightly straightened upon hearing it. Even after getting the best education in the world, she couldn’t help herself but feel ignorant in this city.

Her eyes, though, wandered across the city landscape. The houses were made out of white stone and had unique architecture, elaborated and like any other she had seen. The streets were laden with trees, vines, glasswork, lampposts, and colorful awnings. She had been told that ellari loved to overdecorate, but she hadn’t understood that until now. It was... overwhelming. No spot was left uncovered or at least with some degree of depth.

It was baffling that even the lower classes could afford such opulence.

As Command Sergeant Major Kalyd guided them through the city, it became clear that the battle for the city’s throne had taken a severe toll on the infrastructure. It was common seeing leveled buildings and the rubble was omnipresent, yet surprisingly, the expressions of the population were littered with smiles. A lot of people lost their houses and judging by the destruction, some must have lost their families, but no one had a hint of sadness in their visages. It was as if death... had been absolved.

Salayah quickly turned her head as she thought she saw something. In the darkness, prowling. Mist of lavender color observed them. She shifted ever-so-slightly closer to Caius.

“Command Sergeant Major Kalyd?” Salayah referred to her guide.

The soldier in black turned to face her. “You can simply call me Amira, princess.”

“Alright, Amira.” The albino girl nodded. “Why’s everyone so... happy? This place is thrashed to the ground yet no one seems bothered by the destruction or casualties?”

“Casualties, heh.” Amira snickered. “You don’t need to worry about such matters, princess. Though we should make haste, the celebration is about to begin in an hour. Your arrival was quite... late.”

Salayah contained herself from doing a very un-princess-like sigh. It would seem it was too much to ask for a rest, no matter how badly the travel had felt to her body.

“If that’s the case, we could fly to the Sanctum then. I would not like to make our host wait.” Salayah added with her diplomatic voice.

“Oh, fret not. There’s no need for that. I think you’ll enjoy the travel to the Sanctum, I have been told it’s an unforgettable experience for foreigners.” As the Command Sergeant Major said so, a gondola stopped on the channel they had been walking next to. “Please, take sit.”

Amira had been right. The gondola was a swift and calming trip through the city. Salayah had been told that the channels separated the twelve city districts, and it was true that every side of the channel hosted different architectures and people. They were subtle changes, but she saw them. If ellari had keen ears, draconids had keen eyes.

Some districts were more integrated with nature, whilst others were more mechanical. The Nas’tor district, as Amira had called it, was the one that surprised Salayah the most. A whole district dedicated to the innovation of magical technology...

Even if Salayah herself was a mystic, she couldn’t deny the application of such a field.

But one thing that shocked Salayah, even more, was the trees. Along the channel rubble lay along with collapsed houses, even some roads were completely thrashed. Yet every single one of the coiled ter’nar trees of the city remained in pristine conditions. As if someone had healed them.

It only took them three-quarters of an hour to reach the Arcane Sanctum, a wait the princess enjoyed gleefully as she was able to rest and dissipate the pains of her aching body.

The plaza in front of the Arcane Sanctum was overflowing with lives. Soldiers, students, mages, scholars, civilians, and everyone gathered below the tallest building in the city. It wasn’t unexpected, today was the coronation of the new High Arcanist.

“Please, follow me,” Amira said.

Salayah thought they would take a secondary entrance, but no, people respectfully separated and opened a way for them to cross. They were looking at the soldier with a reverence Salayah had only seen when other draconids looked at her father or Caius. A pure expression of respect.

With a bow, the guards on the main gate of the Arcane Sanctum let them in, and Amira guided them to a platform in the middle of the building. The stone circular platform elevated in the air empowered by the displayed leyline. I know that ellari are all about the arcane, but it’s true that this leyline is just... beautiful.

The princess had lost herself inspecting the everchanging stream of mana that she almost didn’t notice when the platform stopped at their destination. If Amira had seen her distraction, the soldier made no reaction out of it.

Amira escorted the two draconid outward to an open-ended balcony where all of the city was visible from. Even used to heights as she lived on the peak of the Dragonteeth’s Edge mountains, she couldn’t deny that the sight was surprising. From the imperial palace, everything else was also at a high altitude, but in Ferilyn, only a single spot raised beyond the clouds.

The three of them made their entrance to the Audience Hall. The colossal room was the representation of ellari culture. Tall doors and ceiling, decorated glass walls and stone floors, a leyline edging through the middle, and a throne of glass that felt as big as the sanctum.

The Audience Hall was filled with members of all races, or at least, the important ones. Salayah recognized five different elementals, an arcane one, two water ones, and lastly, two earth ones. Counting Caius and her, that accounted for members of every main race, as the room was mostly populated with ellari of all skin tones.

Though she didn’t fail to notice the entourage of ten merfolk. They were far greater in numbers than the draconids or the elementals, but the merfolk were a diverse bunch, to begin with. Two mermen, two scyllas, two mermaids, two tritons, and two abyssals. Two representatives of every merfolk faction. A legion of weak-looking ellari stood on the other side of the circular room, making Salayah wonder what was their business here when everyone else was either politically important or powerful.

Yet everyone palled in comparison to the host of the meeting.

The High Arcanist.

Salayah almost didn’t believe it when she received the invitation but there he was, Edrie Nightfallen sat on the glass throne. The tall ellari wore an intricate white, blue, and purple open tunic. It wasn’t symmetrical as a cape hung from the right side where he was holding a magnificent tree-like staff, and the left side was devoid of any sleeves. Instead, an arm-spanning lavender scar was displayed for everyone to see.

“Imperial Princess Salayah of the Houtz Imperium and Caius Anfaz of the Houtz Imperium have arrived!” Amira announced to the whole hall, making everyone look at them.

Used to pretentious presentations, Salayah walked unfazed to the center of the room where she half-kneeled in front of the High Arcanist.

“Stand.” The man spoke, yet Salayah almost failed to do so.

It was only when she had been next to the mystic that she noticed his true power. The true extent of his soul. One more piece of information was put in the letter, but she hadn’t believed it. The change of leadership was somewhat believable, but the High Arcanist’s current classification? It seemed like outright mockery.

Emphasis on the past.

She tried to approach him but a dark blue ellari in a dark uniform stopped her before she even moved a muscle. As Caius’ soul reacted badly to the man, she instantly knew who the man before her was.

Salayah and Caius stood back and were directed to the sides, along with the rest of the crowd.

“With the presence of the Ministry of the Arcane Sanctum,” the legendary electromancer voice reverberated through the Audience Hall, “the twelve Command Sergeant Majors of the Military of Ferilyn, the heads of every ellari Noble House, the representatives of the Elemental Council, the Houtz Imperium, and the Merfolk United Kingdoms; I, Fynn Albeyr, Sergeant Major of the Army, officially proclaim Edrie Nightfallen, first of his House, the new head of the Arcane Sanctum and Ferilyn.” But he didn’t stop there. “Yet, I am incapable of proclaiming him as the High Arcanist.”

The Audience Hall was already silent thanks to Fynn’s powerful voice, but the last statement made the silence razor-sharp. Some gasps escaped people’s mouths, but before anyone could manifest their doubt, the Sergeant Major of the Army continued.

“For his achievements of defeating the previous High Arcanist in single combat, being the first ellari to achieve the true affinity, and becoming the only mage of the thirteenth star, I proclaim Edrie Nightfallen the Grand Arcanist of Ferilyn!”

And the room exploded in clapping.

*** *** * *** ***

Even though the coronation - with the plot twist included - had been staged since the beginning, I couldn’t help myself but be appalled by the congratulations. Part of me didn’t believe it, that I had won and saved Ferilyn, that I had become the Hig- Grand Arcanist.

In other languages, the difference between High and Grand was minimal, but in ellari, it was from saying “powerful” to “supreme”. That message had been lost to translation for the visiting guests, but I understood it. And it made me nervous.

I had gone from being an unheard-of, albeit powerful, healer to the ruler of one of the central powers of the world overnight.

They all clapped to me. They all looked up to me.

The draconids, the merfolk, the elementals (with Kashar included - the caretaker of the Arcane Sanctum’s leyline), and a lot of influential ellari. All the Ministers of the Arcane Sanctum, the Command Sergeant Majors of every district, every single patriarch and matriarch of the Noble Houses, all the mages of the eleventh star in the city (Alatea awaited next to Kirielle), and even Au’ter. Who, I may add, looked surprisingly young after I casted Defy Death over Ferilyn. I had my doubts if the ex-High Arcanist had been faking his apparent pronounced aging or if he was just rejuvenated with my magic.

I had been the one casting the spell, yet I fail to comprehend even now its full ramifications.

Behind me, composing the vast majority of the people in the Audience Hall, awaited all of the people that had been resurrected by Defy Death, numbering in the hundreds. They called themselves the ‘Soulsworn’ and that look in their eyes, one of adoration, heaved on my mind. To them I wasn’t just the Grand Arcanist, someone who had broken the preestablished records in Ferilyn, but a deity. And unfortunately, they were right. Even if they didn’t understand the magnitude of what I had become.

Of what being Soul meant.

Yet all of those people paled in comparison with the person at my left.

Marissa stood beside me with a solemn expression, dressed in an expensive white dress with golden hints. Maybe only a mage of the ninth star, ignoring the Soulsworn who came from all ages and power levels, she may be the least tiered and most young ellari in the room. Yet paradoxically, Marissa was the second most influential person in the room, for one reason only.

She was the wife of the Grand Arcanist.

The diplomats of multiple countries presented before me with caution and fearful politeness. To them I wasn’t a barely adult ellari, but the most powerful mage in the world. A title En’yen Yagul had once wielded and now befell upon me.

The merfolk were enthusiastic about the prospect of commercial agreements as ellari products like glass, manites, and diverse flora were highly coveted by the outside world. The different factions of races didn’t hide their separated agendas, carefully proposing better deals for Ferilyn than the previous diplomat.

The elementals were the tamest of all, not trying to establish any further trades besides that of Kashar and the welfare of the Arcane Sanctum’s leyline. Though they did congratulate me personally on my true affinity and suggested a meeting with their council of True Elementals. In a way, I was now one of them as my true body was purely a soul construct in the corporeal plane, the current vessel people saw was just recreated by clever castings of Resurrection with the help of Alatea. This flesh was, unfortunately, fake.

The draconids, however, offered a much different deal.

“Come forward, Princess Salayah of the Houtz Imperium.” Fynn proclaimed at my side, who I promoted to Sergeant Major of the Army. This position was previously held by the High Arcanist himself, but we had thought it was rather problematic for a non-soldier and the head of the country to flaunt such power over the military.

“Your Grandness, Edrie Nightfallen, Grand Arcanist of the Ferilyn Meritocracy, mystic of the thirteen star, and true affinity practitioner, I salute you.” Salayah bowed down to me.

A single hour.

That's how much time people had begun referring to me with titles as my position hadn’t been officially established until now, and in this small amount of time, I had already grown bored of the needlessly long titles.

“I am pleased to meet with you once more Princess Salayah,” I spoke with the most royal voice I could make. I wasn’t exactly used to being the person people looked up to.

“Likewise.” She rose from her bow. “My father, Emperor Amyr of the Houtz Imperium, has tasked me with the forging of new diplomatic ties with the Ferilyn Meritocracy. The empire believes that two countries that have mystics as rulers should be on good terms with one another.”

“Ferilyn would certainly like to establish bonds with the mystics of Houtz. What is your proposal, princess Salayah?”

The words that came out of the mouth of the albino draconid were ones I would have never imagined.

“The emperor sent me to engage a matrimonial union between the Houtz Imperium and the Ferilyn Meritocracy.”

For the briefest of instants, I thought Salayah was joking, but a quick surface inspection of her soul told me she was being quite serious. I doubted Amyr was the one who thought of the union idea. Salayah was a nine-star mystic and shared the unnatural thirst for knowledge, and therefore power, that all mages had. She didn’t want to marry the two countries together but get close to me as a mystic of the thirteenth star.

The temperatures noticeably dropped, and I felt a breeze on my side. That prompted me to snap out of my confusion and act, or a diplomatic incident would sparkle out of the beaten body of a draconid princess, thrashed by countless air blades. The princess shyly took a step back.

“I am afraid Ferilyn is not able to engage in such a proposal.” My words quite literally cut through the wind. “Whilst I ostent a power far greater than any previous High Arcanist, the core of our country remains a meritocracy and a political union would go against our ideals. Nevertheless, we are open to other treaties the empire may propose to us.”

And besides, I communicated with Salayah through the spiritual plane, the woman next to me that is eying you with killer instinct is my wife. Her soul faltered upon hearing such words. For they contained a hint of my displeasure.

“I… I understand, your Grandness.” Salayah kneeled deeply; a hint of blushing appeared on her visage. “I personally apologize in the name of the Houtz Imperium, and we can only hope our proposal has not offended Ferilyn.”

“You are excused,” I replied.

My confirmation queued Marissa into stopping whatever she was doing. What did Salayah was absolutely demeaning, and I could understand her anger, but I didn’t want to spark a new war when our objective all this time was to avoid one.

Salayah removed herself from the throne, showing that she had been the last one of the petitioners. Today we didn’t have any ellari ones, those I had taken care of with the help of Fynn the previous week.

“Now,” I stood up from the throne of glass, the leyline buzzing behind me, “let the celebration for the end of Ferilyn’s isolation begin!”

I hit the butt of the High Arcanist staff (or rather Grand Arcanist now) against the ground and the sanctum obeyed my commands.

The outside of the Arcane Sanctum exploded into a myriad of sounds and lights as the magic-based fireworks littered the sky of Ferilyn. White, pink, blue, violet, purple, and every other color in the middle of the mana spectrum made their appearance on the colorful explosions. Today we just didn’t celebrate my coronation, but the rebirth of a freed and open Ferilyn.

Though most of the fireworks were lavender and in the shape of a thirteen-pointed star. That was the banner of the newly founded Nightfallen House.

Curiously dressed ellari covered in mana-colored feathers poured through the multiple entrances of the Audience Hall bringing with them trays of drinks and food. They obviously didn’t carry the trays with carts but with masterful uses of telekinetic spells. The servants in the sanctum were far more powerful and adept than the average mage in the outside world.

Soon enough everyone was either enjoying their glass of wine, vegan snacks, or both.

It didn’t take time for the people to engage in closed groups. I observed the proto-capitalistic merfolk establishing ties with other ellari, most of them being heads of Noble Houses. The elementals mostly kept to themselves, though one or two arcanists questioned our leyline caretaker.

One gathering that popped to my eye was a small group of three individuals. Two ellari and… a human.

It felt so alien yet familiar. This was the first human I had seen since… ever actually since I did not have memories of my previous human incarnation. And now I vehemently refused to look back at them. I had a life here, and I didn’t want anything to do with the previous one.

In contrast with the two tall ellari, the man looked diminutive, but I doubted he was that tall, to begin with. He wore a set of brown leather travel clothes making me believe he was a wayward traveler that decided to visit the city after the Violet Sky felt rather than a diplomat. None of the human nations we had contacted had responded to us after all.

The pair of ellari themselves were quite surprising, one was a white-skinned woman. I had heard that ellari could be white, it was in the mana color spectrum, but this was the first one I had seen. She wore a white tunic and had white hair, making me think she was a moving white stone sculpture rather than a person.

And even when factoring in the human and the albino ellari, the most peculiar of the bunch was the remaining ellari. A tall man with light-blue skin, a color that seemed outright impossible. His eyes were permanently closed even as he spoke, but then he turned to face me, what should be our eyes meeting, and then smiled at me even if he remained with his eyelids shut.

Those three seemed interesting. I made a mental note to talk with them later. Now though… I have to meet my obligations as the Grand Arcanist.

The ruler of Ferilyn.

*** *** * *** ***

Being the High Arcanist, or in this case Grand Arcanist, allowed me to go places I had been forbidden from going before. The leylines were one example, I had complete rule over them now, but what mostly mattered to me was the apex of the Arcane Sanctum.

Beyond the Audience Hall, there lay a floor only the High Arcanists of yore were allowed to step into.

The Sanctum Sanctorum.

It was an expansive library, so big that I couldn’t believe it was purely composed of books written by the previous thirty-six High Arcanists. It would take years to consume the knowledge of the most powerful mages Ferilyn had to show during each age. Arcanists, force mages, pyromancers, mentalists, more kinds I had yet to find… and even a single naturalist composed the type of mages that had written the books.

It was unnecessary to say that I was the first mystic to join their ranks.

Seemingly, it was tradition for High Arcanists to document their signature spells in this library. Au’ter had added a complex eleven-star spell called Evolution Mastery, whilst a more legendary High Arcanist like the dynamimancer Elisandre Stargazer documented her magnum opus that allowed her to move a planet. The twelve-star force spell was appropriately named: Celestial Arrangement.

Yet only one of the High Arcanists in this legion of prodigal mages mattered to me.

En’yen Yagul had made plentiful additions to the Sanctum Sanctorum library, though some of them also under the pseudonym of ‘Flow Weaver’, it was obvious that before being a warlord, En’yen had been a scholar.

It was surprising to see that most of the spells he had used on our confrontation weren’t original. The ability to manipulate leylines or the spell he had used to blow my mind (literally) were inventions of other High Arcanists. He had only lent their power.

Even Arcane Providence, his twelve-star spell wasn’t fully original to him. Considering En’yen was of the eleventh star when he was crowned, it made sense. He used the knowledge acquired from the late High Arcanists to upgrade the spell to a higher star and then cement his position as the only twelve-star mage in the world.

It took me time, plentiful days of my Astral Self shifting through the countless books as my real body managed the country until I found what I wanted. The book read like this:

“If you read this, I’m probably dead. Either my conquest failed, or I wasn’t able to pull off a spell of this magnitude. Since the beginning I knew what my chances were, I tried to extend the deadline as much as possible, but with the limited resources of Ferilyn, my chances were minimal. I do not seek pity, for my delusions were justified, achieving a new star is something worth dying for. Especially a star that is unheard of. And in that showing I was not mad, but proving the limits of reality beyond what we knew of was possible.”

The ink wasn’t recent, En’yen had must written this years ago. After the Wyrm’s Landing and the Violet Sky but far before the idea of a coup was born. The last line was what confirmed my doubts.

“The framework is not finished but I believe I’m soon to completion. This is my legacy, the spell that will allow me to rewrite reality and become a Primordial. An arcane spell of the unheard-of thirteenth star, this is my Arcane Records.”

The truth behind En’yen Yagul’s actions finally became clear to me and why had he failed in the moment of truth.

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