The Order of Elysia

Chapter 19- Emberwake

Emberwake stood at the threshold, the most sacred day of the year, when time itself seemed to hold its breath. On this night of the year, the veil thickened and it was not a night of merriment alone, but one of reflection, reverence and silent longing.

At the Temple Isle, the heart of the Order of Elysia, preparations had been underway for days. Robes were cleaned and laid out with care, lanterns polished and the city stoked to readiness. Every stone seemed to hum with sacred weight. It was not just another festivity, it was Emberwake- the soul of the Elysian festivities.

Tradition demanded white, but the white stood not for vanity, but for clarity.

"So the flame may see you clearly.”, the old saying went.

The men wore white linen shirts and soft trousers, cinched with belts of silver cord; modest and comfortable. The women were to wear white dresses, symbolic of openness and clear-mindedness, but not all approved. Raven, who stood with her arms crossed and a sullen look painted across her face, muttered bitterly under her breath: "I look like a cursed dove.” and continued: "Do we sacrifice our dignity for every holiday, or just the important ones?”

Lilly gave her a look but said nothing, she understood the sentiment. Her mood was no better and the thought of slipping into something ceremonial, something exposed and ethereal, felt like a burden she didn’t want to carry. She wasn’t in the mood for beauty. Not tonight. She sifted through the garments laid out by the Order, half-expecting to hate them all, until her fingers brushed something soft. A long-sleeved dress of pale silk, smooth and barely weighty. It wasn’t grand, but it was beautiful in its simplicity. There was nothing ornate about it and yet it felt right.

The entire day leading up to the festivities in the evening, was devoted to approaching the Eternal Flame and whispering to it one’s wish, something to help endure the winter and the long dark nights that came with it, in the hopes the Veil would grant one's longing.

Lilly had stepped up to the flame early in the morning and the sanctum was quiet when she entered. The chamber was lit only by the Heart of Elysia, a flame that had been burning for centuries in a golden bowl and its glow did not flicker, but pulsed like gentle breaths. It now stood on the golden altar in the center of the sanctum and when Lilly stepped forward to kneel and whisper her wish, she felt oddly hollow. Her hands trembled, not from fear, but from a strange sensation she could not name. She knelt on the cold marble, lowered her head and let her whisper touch the flame.

"Let me overcome the pain and let me find trust in connection.” she whispered, so quietly it was barely sound, but the flame did not flare, it merely pulsed once, softly, after she had finished speaking her desire. She knew why the word trust had slipped from her lips, because even though she had found companions within the Order, she had not known them long and friendship born in fire was still fragile. Parcival’s warning clung to her mind like a shadow, reminding her that betrayal could come from the place she least expected.

After meeting up with Alaric, Raven, Gavin, Konrad and Freya in the evening, the group made their way down the wide steps toward the Vaulted Hearthground, an underground area she had not been to before. She had left the Festival of Lightbinding early, before the feasting began, so she had not had the chance to visit the celebration hall yet, but tonight, on Emberwake she would finally see it.

The corridor opened into the Vaulted Hearthgrounds, a vast cavern carved beneath the cliffs of the Temple itself. The ceiling arched like the inside of a cathedral and an enchanted warmth filled the space, casting a golden haze that softened the magically enhanced hall.

Hundreds, if not thousands of people filled the enormous room, seated at long tables or gathered in groups around the free spaces. Crimson and gold banners hung from the vaulted heights, bright and vibrant against the stone and music echoed, not from a single source but from many, flutes, strings and drums in perfect harmony. Voices rose in laughter and cheer and the air smelled of sweet wine, honeyed bread and fire-roasted meats.

The great hall was already bustling with noise and movement when Lilly and her companions stepped inside, the heavy wooden doors parting just enough to release the sound of music, laughter and clinking goblets into the corridor beyond. Above them, a dozen enchanted chandeliers hung, their warm golden light casting flickering shadows across the high ceiling, which was carved with ancient constellations and the symbols of each Dominion.

They found their way to a long table lining the central aisle, where other Disciples had already begun to settle. Raven slid onto the bench first, her posture relaxed yet watchful, her eyes sweeping across the room with silent calculation. The simple white dress suited her surprisingly well, its clean lines softening her edges without dimming her presence and Lilly caught the way Gavin’s gaze lingered longer than it should, as if he too, had noticed.

Alaric sat beside Lilly, calm as ever, while Gavin took the seat opposite and leaned forward on his elbows, scanning the surrounding tables with a grin that suggested trouble was already forming in the back of his mind. Freya sat beside Lilly, pulling her thick braid over one shoulder as she poured them each a cup of wine from the decanter waiting at the center of the table.

"So,”, Raven muttered, eyeing Gavin with suspicion, "how long until you will vanish into a dark hallway with someone we’ll never meet again?”

"At least wait until dessert to wager on my virtue.” Gavin replied and lifted his goblet with mock solemnity.

"Assuming you have any left to wager.”, Freya added with a smirk before taking a sip.

Lilly chuckled under her breath, but couldn’t shake the tight feeling building in her chest. There was too much grandeur in the room, too much expectation woven into the polished stone floor and golden plates. Then, the music stopped and a deep drumroll echoed through the hall.

All conversation ceased and heads turned. The rustle of fabric and the creak of chairs was all that remained of the noise that had filled the chamber only a heartbeat earlier. The doors at the far end of the hall opened and into the hush stepped two figures, one tall, unmistakable in his bearing, the other flowing beside him like a shadow made of silk.

It was the Emperor-King himself- Visidor Pinney. Lilly’s breath got stuck in her throat, she had seen his portrait before, engraved on coins, painted in oil, stamped in wax, but never like this, never in flesh and blood and now that he was here, all she could think about was the royal seal at the bottom of the parchment that had condemned her father to death. This man, wrapped in velvet and surrounded by ceremony, had signed his name and with it, he ended her world.

She felt no hatred, not exactly, it was more distant. A numbness that settled into her bones like frost, quiet and clinging. He hadn't wielded the sword himself, but he hadn't needed to, his ink had been enough.

He wore no crown, for he did not need one. Authority seemed stitched into every inch of his golden mantle, from the straight set of his shoulders to the calm, unreadable weight of his gaze. His silver-white hair swept back from his temples and his steps were measured with the quiet confidence of a man who had long grown used to the silence of awe, but it was the woman beside him who stole Lilly’s breath. As if responding to Lilly’s thought of who the woman was, a voice announced them:

"The Emperor-King and his Chancellor, Iridessa Sovayn.”

She walked a half-step behind him, not enough to suggest deference, but enough to remain within reach of his ear, as wild applause echoed through the room. Her dress was a flowing creation of white velvet, tailored to perfection and her auburn hair had been twisted into an elegant knot adorned with gold pins. Her face was beautiful, undeniably so, with features that might have belonged to a painting or a statue, but it wasn’t her beauty that unsettled Lilly, it was her smile.

Polite, composed, just wide enough to be called warm and entirely devoid of real feeling as the smile did not find her eyes. They remained cool, watchful and Lilly found herself shivering for no clear reason. Sovayn looked too young for her title and yet, Lilly had done the math: Sovayn had already been Chancellor when she was born. That would make her well over forty, perhaps closer to fifty and yet, she did not look a day older than thirty.

The King raised a hand and as he stepped forward, his voice filled the hall with ease, smooth, rich, every syllable honed like a blade that had never dulled.

"Honoured members of the Order of Elysia,” he began, his tone stately but not distant, "it is my privilege to stand among you tonight, among the finest minds and strongest arms Solendris has to offer. You are not only the guardians of our future but the embodiment of discipline, devotion and unity.” He paused, allowing the room to absorb the words. "I thank the Order for its hospitality and I consider it no small honour to be a guest in these halls.”

Then, a soft, deliberate cough interrupted him- Sovayn. With a delicate turn of her wrist, she brushed something imaginary from the shoulder of her dress and stepped slightly closer to the Emperor-King, her voice soft and melodious as she interrupted without apology.

"And we, of course, thank Your Majesty for your continued support of our efforts.”, she said, smiling toward the audience now. "It is through your wisdom and favour that the Order flourishes. Without your guidance, their greatness would remain unseen and untested.”

It was subtle, graceful and completely disarming; a gentle reminder of who allowed whom to shine. The Emperor's smile widened, but though he did not flinch or show displeasure openly, his jaw shifted. A flicker of their power dynamics passed between them, swift as a blade and quickly sheathed, but it was there.

Whoever Sovayn was, she was not merely a servant of the crown.

"Indeed.”, the Emperor said after a beat, his gaze forward once more. "Together we ensure that Solendris remains vigilant, especially in times when old tensions stir again.”

Zarvath. He did not say the name aloud, but everyone in the room knew exactly what he was talking about.

"The Order stands as our greatest shields and our sharpest blades.”, he continued. "We sleep safely because of your strength and for that, Solendris is grateful.”

He raised his goblet. "To unity. To strength. To the light that guides us all.” Then he lowered his goblet and with a nod, he declared: "Let the feast begin.”

Chairs scraped against stone. Platters were uncovered and the music swelled anew, but Lilly barely noticed the return of laughter and clinking glasses. Her gaze remained fixed on Sovayn, whose smile lingered, smooth as velvet and twice as cold.

The food had been excellent, spiced lamb, roasted squash, candied nuts and sweet berry glaze, but Lilly barely tasted any of it. She picked at her plate with the tip of her fork, trying to ground herself in the simple movement, trying to keep her mind from spinning. Laughter roared across the table as someone recounted a story from their latest field mission and not long after, Gavin had predictably slipped an arm around a Chronicler who had arrived from the mainland just for the celebrations. She was all dimples and silk and didn’t seem to mind his closeness in the slightest.

Lilly, on the other hand, felt the walls inching closer with every passing moment. The music, the voices, the sheer noise of joy, it pressed in on her like a too-tight corset. She wanted to catch a breath, to step out and remind herself that the world was still wide and quiet somewhere beyond the Hearthgrounds.

Without a word, she rose from the table, slipping between clusters of dancers and chatting people until she found one of the outer corridors that led to the cliffside terraces, narrow stone balconies carved into the edges of the Isle, overlooking the endless dark sweep of the ocean to the east. The wind met her like an old friend, pulling at the edges of her braided hair and the fine fabric of her dress.

And then she flinched- someone was already there, leaning against the far wall of the cliff, half-lit by moonlight and torch-glow- Thorndale. Lilly held her breath for a moment, she had been so sure he wasn’t on the Isle, he was said to have left by ship weeks ago, but there he was, arms crossed over his chest, posture relaxed, as though he’d been waiting for someone.

"I thought you were gone.”, she said dryly.

He didn’t move or speak right away as if he was deliberating something. "I had some things to take care of, but they asked me to return for the feast.”, he said eventually, voice low and even.

Lilly folded her arms across her stomach, more to keep her hands still than anything else.

"Where were you?”, she asked, but he gave no real answer, only a vague lift of one brow.

She took a slow step toward him, not too close, but not far enough to pretend she wasn’t affected by his presence. He was dressed in white formalwear this time, no armour, no weapons, but still, something about him looked dangerous and untamed.

"Why didn’t you tell them?”, she asked quietly, her voice tight. "About how it wasn’t real. The staged armour, the attack…”

Again, silence. She hated that, hated how carefully he chose when and how to speak. How he made silence louder than answers. He didn’t even deny it, nor did he explain it, he only watched her, the sharpness of his gaze unsettling and then he took a step toward her.

He didn’t touch her, but his nearness was electric, almost unbearable. His presence filled the small terrace like smoke. His scent, leather, sea salt and something scorched, brushed against her. Did he want to intimidate her? Still, she didn’t move, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction to buckle.

"You didn’t tell anyone either.”, he said quietly, tilting his head whilst piercing her with his emerald gaze. "Why?”

She opened her mouth but no answer came out, not right away at least. She had rehearsed things to say if this moment came, but now, with him standing so close that she could feel his breath on her face, every word dissolved before it could form.

"I didn’t want to owe you.”, she said at last, the truth pressing out of her like a thorn. "You saved my life. I didn’t want to be in your debt.”

Her voice cracked just slightly on the last words: "We’re even now.”

Thorndale’s expression darkened and his eyes narrowed, as if that wasn’t the answer he’d wanted, or perhaps, not the answer he’d expected, but before either of them could speak again, a soft, deliberate clearing of a throat interrupted them, that same dainty, affected sound Lilly had heard earlier in the evening, during the Emperor-King's speech.

She turned and found herself face-to-face with Sovayn. The Chancellor radiated the kind of perfection that left you breathless. Her face was impossibly smooth, her skin like polished porcelain, the curve of her cheekbones sculpted with precision rather than grace. Her lips were painted a muted rose, the flawless smile that lingered on her mouth and her dark-brown eyes were clear and measuring. Her every movement seemed intentional, refined to the point of artifice and her velvet dress flowed around her as though the air itself obeyed her presence.

"Oh.”, Sovayn cooed, her voice feather-light and falsely delighted, "What a surprise to find you here, Warden Thorndale. Enjoying a quiet intermezzo and with such lovely company.” Her eyes slid to Lilly with a silk-smooth glide, assessing, not admiring her. The implication in her tone was as clear as it was disingenuous.

"Iridessa.”, the Warden grumbled reluctantly. He visibly stiffened next to Lilly and she straightened her posture, but said nothing.

There was something about the way Sovayn acted, as if the entire world were a stage and every word from her lips was meant to shift the script ever so slightly in her favour. The Chancellor turned her full attention to Lilly now, head tilted with false innocence. "And you are?”

There was something about the question that didn’t sit right with Lilly, as if Sovayn was asking not because she didn’t know, but because she wanted to watch Lilly squirm beneath the asking. Still, she kept her voice calm.

"Lilly Ayrelle.”, she replied and for the briefest moment, Sovayn’s smile twitched, so subtly that someone not watching closely might have missed it, but Lilly did not. She saw how carefully Sovayn folded her hands before her and how she offered a small, theatrical gasp.

"Ayrelle?”, she said with an edge of mock astonishment, pressing her fingers lightly to her chest. "Oh, my, I must confess, I didn’t expect to find you two here together of all people.”

Her gaze flicked back and forth between them, playful but piercing. "Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I did hear whispers of a… rather harrowing incident during your last mission. Some sort of ambush, was it? Quite alarming, I do hope no one was seriously hurt.” She said it with the wide-eyed sincerity of a performer, but Lilly could almost taste the sarcasm beneath it.

"I had also thought”, Sovayn continued, as though confiding in them, "That Warden Thorndale wasn’t particularly fond of you, Miss Ayrelle.” She smiled, sweet as sugar. "Given… well. Everything.”

Lilly’s brow furrowed. "Everything?”

"Oh, surely you’ve heard.”, Sovayn purred, her gaze never leaving Thorndale, though it was Lilly she spoke to. "His older brother… a rather tragic affair. You see, when your father’s betrayal came to light, the Order conducted a thorough sweep. Poor Aurin’s brother was among those scrutinized and well…” Her smile turned almost pitying. "Let’s just say forbidden glyphs come with a price.”

Lilly felt as though the air had been knocked out of her. She turned her head slowly toward Thorndale, but he was already staring out toward the sea, his eyes avoiding them both and suddenly, everything made more sense- the coldness, the scrutiny. It had never been about her, not entirely at least.

"But that was months ago.”, Sovayn went on lightly, dismissing the weight of it all with a flick of her hand. "And Warden Thorndale has always been so forgiving, he has such a… loyal heart. We know each other from his time at court in Volgard. He was stationed at the palace for nearly half a year before he took this curious position on the Isle. Quite the abrupt shift, wouldn’t you agree?”

Sovayn glanced at Thorndale, as if she expected a reaction from him, but she received none. He still did not look at either of them, but his silence spoke volumes. Lilly’s skin crawled at the Chancellor’s insinuations, at the calculated sweetness of her tone, like poison wrapped in silk and the way she seemed to know exactly which strings to tug. Still, she kept her voice polite.

"Warden Thorndale and I are not… close.”, Lilly said quietly. "Whatever this is, it’s not what you’re implying.”

"Oh, of course not.”, Sovayn said, mockingly reassuring. "Though I must admit, it is interesting how paths cross, especially on nights like this.” Her eyes sparkled with cold amusement.

Lilly remained composed, but inside, her thoughts swirled, with fury, with confusion and with a growing unease that this woman was someone far more dangerous than she let on.

"Well.” Sovayn said lightly, brushing an invisible crease from the sleeve of her robe. "I should return to the Emperor-King before he begins to notice my absence. You know how sensitive men can be when left too long without someone to flatter them.”

Her eyes flicked to Lilly and the smile still painted perfectly across her lips, dropped perceptibly in the space between them. "I do hope your stay here continues to be enlightening, Miss Ayrelle, after all Priesthood is a path not many of us dare to walk.”

She turned around to leave, but not before casting Thorndale a knowing little wink, quick and deliberate, as if to remind them both that she always left on her own terms. They watched her go in silence, the soft swish of her cloak trailing her like a shadow.

Only when the echo of her heels had faded, Thorndale finally moved, but he didn’t speak. Lilly crossed her arms, cold settling into her chest. "Is that why?”, she asked, her voice tight. "Is that why you were so cruel to me from the beginning?”

He looked at her and then, the hardness in his features suddenly softened. "Yes.”, he admitted and she was somewhat surprised at his blunt honesty.

Lilly nodded once, bitterness on her tongue. "You humiliated me in front of the others. You exposed who I was on the very first day. You pushed me harder than anyone in training. You started working with Rurik to what? To get under my skin for personal revenge?”

She took a breath, her chest tightening. "And now, after that mission, you’ve put me in even more danger, by forcing me to lie for you. You are not acting very professionally, Archwarden.”

He took a step closer and she felt the heat radiating from him even before he reached her. "I wasn’t forcing-”

"Don’t waste my time with semantics.”, she cut him off. "Don’t explain. I don’t want to hear you twist everything to your liking. ”

"I’m not your enemy.”, Thorndale calmly replied, but Lilly did not believe a word he said.

"No?”, she snapped. "Because it feels like I’m constantly being dragged into the mess left by men who think they can play gods. I don’t want to be tied to another traitor.”

She turned to leave, but his hand shot out, catching her wrist, preventing her from running away. She froze- his grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm and warmth spread up her arm from where his fingers touched her skin and the world narrowed to that single point of contact. Then, yet another voice cut through the silence behind them.

"Am I interrupting?”

Lilly twisted around to see a tall man approaching from the archway, it was a brunette guy, with a jagged scar slicing through his right brow. His dark eyes swept over the two of them, lingering on Thorndale’s hand still wrapped around Lilly’s wrist. When the Warden followed the man’s gaze to his hand, he let go of Lilly as if he’d touched the searing surface of a blazing stove.

Lilly recognized the scarred man instantly, not by name, but she had seen him sparring in the yard, seated at the corner of the tavern, exchanging quiet words with Thorndale near the mess tent. Always watching and always around the Warden.

His gaze was harsh and unreadable.

"I need to speak with you.”, he said to Thorndale demandingly.

"Not now Julian.”, Thorndale replied, his voice low and guarded, but firm.

"It’s important.”, Julian replied with urgency in his tone, narrowing his eyes at Lilly.

"I said not now.”, the Warden now almost growled at the man and Julian did not push further, but he pressed his lips together in anger. Something passed between them, unspoken, but not unnoticed by Lilly. Julian looked displeased, his jaw ticking; then his eyes slid back to her with the faintest trace of disapproval, as if her presence alone was a complication.

"I was leaving anyway.” And without another word, Lilly strode past them both and disappeared into the Vaulted Hearthgrounds.