Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Nasazura's Rest: Main Temple

Lucian had taken down his hood and shook out his blonde, icicled bangs. It gave him a chance to view his surroundings with a full line of sight, causing his jaw to drop. The marvels at home had never been so incredible.

"Not quite," he replied. "I'm here for answers. This is the place I think it is, so... I'll just need someone, anyone... from Aelora."
 
"From Aelora?" Ari blinked. "Uh, sure, we have a few people from there around. Sarael, Shelby, Arrow, Oriel..." the teen tilted his head in thought for a few moments before continuing. "Then there's all the spirits, I guess. I'll find you a Warden to talk to, at least. I'm just an apprentice, only been here a few months."

Eventually, the hallway ended at a set of large double doors, that opened into a larger, open space - a mess hall, with several large tables. A roaring fire burned at one end of the room, and the room itself was pleasantly warm. There were a few people around, but very few given the size of the room. "Why d'you need an Aeloran, anyway? You from there too?" Ari asked as he scanned the room, trying to pick out any of the Vanguard's Aeloran members.
 
Lucian let out a breath fo relief when the warmth washed over him. He released his scarf from his neck and bunched it into one of his pockets. A smile washed over his face before he replied to Ari.

"Yes, Sozo particularly. I've run into some... problems. Questions, really. Ones that can only be answered by a few. I was rather happy to hear that home wasn't as far away as I thought. Even if I can't get back, it still exists. For that, I am thankful."

He paused, looking back to the hallway they had left. "What do you mean... spirits?"
 
"Funky temple magic, basically. It's only been a few days, but... a bunch of ancient heroes, old members of the order ... eh, I'll let one of the Wardens fill you in. I don't think it's a secret or anything, but I don't really understand how it works." Ari shrugged. "Aaand there's Sarael. C'mon, I'll introduce you."

Shrugging off his own coat, Ari led Lucian across the room to where an elven man with lengthy black hair was sat with a plate of food and a book, close to the fire. He looked up as the two approached, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Yo, Sarael," Ari said, smiling. "Uh, this guy turned up outside looking like an ice pop, so I brought him in. Apparently he has questions about Aelora. Lucian, this is-"

"Sarael Nasazura," the man cut in, smiling and setting aside his book. He got to his feet in order to shake Lucian's hand. "I'm happy to answer any questions you might have, but would you like something hot to eat, first? You must be exhausted, if you only just arrived."
 
Lucian grasped the man's hand as firmly as he could manage, though his fingers were still stiff from the outdoors. He smiled again. "I am not opposed to the idea," he told him. "I certainly have the time."

Slipping his coat off, Lucian revealed a light suit of armor beneath. The purple and silver crest upon it had faded slightly, but it was still discernable. A thin sword was sheathed at his hip with a gem embroidered in the hilt.

"I have to ask first, however- you said Nasazura? Are you related to Sylvire?"
 
"Ari, could you go and get him a bowl of stew?" Sarael asked, looking to the apprentice. Ari gave a slightly weary smile, clearly used to being an errand boy, but nodded and hurried off to do so. "And yes, I am. She was one of my ancestors, though I am not a direct descendant - though I only met her for the first time when she came to Tai'emroth to liberate the realm. I likely know her much less well than some of the others here. You know of her, then?"

A pause, then. "That crest looks familiar..." Further hesitation, as it was clear the elf was sifting through information in his head. "...Sozo, correct?"
 
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"Yes," said Lucian. "So you do know! That... that's fantastic. I'm not sure if you know how long it's been. Ever since I came to this world I've been displaced. Everything has been so alien. I haven't seen any of my friends-" He clenched his fist, snapping his mouth shut. "Pardon my enthusiasm. It's nice to have someone from... home. I'm familiar with Nasazura and the Vanguard, but I had no idea your influence was this large."
 
Despite Lucian's enthusiasm, Sarael's expression shifted to a frown. "So you arrived here through a crossroads... tell me, Lucian. Who was the Queen at the time you were displaced?"
 
Lucian's smile faded swiftly. "Serarin Alifina. She was the youngest to take the throne. Why would you-" He paused, took a step back, then lifted his chin. "You said... great, great aunt?" he asked. "How... how is that possible, if you don't mind me asking?"
 
"Queen Alifina..?" Sarael frowned, once more sifting through information in his head. Alifina ... had been the last Queen of Sozo, prior to the fall. Over a thousand years ago. He looked back up at Lucian. "You might want to sit down, my friend."

When Lucian had seated himself, or made clear he didn't intend to, Sarael sighed and continued. "It's been established through what happened to Arrow, Aliana and Oriel that the crossroads events that sometimes lead to an individual or group crossing through Aelora's veil to the rest of Valore can cause temporal displacement as well as spacial. I'm not sure the best way to tell you this... Queen Alifina's reign, and the fall of Aelora to the void ... happened close to two thousand years ago."
 
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The knight did sit, already feeling someone unsteady in the pit of his stomach. The sword was clipped from his belt and laid across his lap.

Once the news hit his ears, his eyes became hollow. An explosion of emotions erupted in his chest and boiled up his throat. His hand clenched his heart. As he tried to put the thought through his head, he almost didn't feel the burning atop his lap.

The sword clattered to the floor, shifting a few inches from the scabbard. The blade glowed white and steamed from the heat it exuded. Lucian's hand came up to his head. "Is it my fault? That's why... I'm cursed now? I abandoned them."
 
Sarael's eyes widened at the blade, but he judged it better to inquire as to its nature at a later point. "No, friend. Not least was your departure most likely involuntary, your presence would not have changed the course of events. All of Aelora fell. Not just Sozo."

It was hard to imagine how the knight must have been feeling. To realise that near every face he'd ever known from his homeland was a thousand years dead. How did you react to that? What emotions went through your head? "I'll give you a moment. There's more to tell, but ... you need time to process, I'm sure."
 
As the sword's glow dimmed, revealing the clear, crystalline blade, Lucian sat back down once more, head in his hands. He nodded gently to Sarael.

All dead. His friends and fellow knights, Enda especially. He never could imagine that woman dying, but she wasn't immortal. She would not stand against the passage of time. Then, there was their queen. Alifina had been little more than a child when she was crowned.

How did they die? Why was it that he was spared the same fate? Questions swarmed his mind, mixing with his grief. He never thought he would return, but he never thought...

He never thought that everything would be gone.
 
"I don't know if it's any consolation, but Aelora has begun to rebuild. I haven't returned there myself for a long time, but others have brought word... It's been fifty years since Sylvire and her warriors defeated the Sealed One for good. Kingdoms have reappeared. Tai'emroth, where I was born, took pains to ensure records and histories of the fallen kingdoms were preserved. The Vanguard have been helping reclaim what was lost. Sozo may yet have risen again." Sarael's expression remained a sorrowful frown, despite his words of reassurance. He knew there was little he could say to alleviate the grief.

Arrow, Oriel and Aliana had struggled much the same, he was told, when they realised that their own home was a thousand years or more in their past. But at least they'd had each other. There was no way of knowing if anyone else from Sozo still lived.

"But..." his eyes drifted down to the swor. "You mentioned something about a curse?"
 
It was of little reconciliation, though a thought did float through Lucian's mind that some may have survived and had descendants. For now, he let ease him. He wasn't here to grieve. Not now.

Though his eyes were still overcast, he rose from his chair with purpose. He didn't motion for his sword and instead gazed at Sarael. "These weapons... are created upon taking an oath to Sozo and its queen. When the oath is spoken, it binds us to the Light which guides our blade, so if we ever betrayed it, it would not allow us to wield it for evil. Since coming here, I may have done some things that... may not have been seen as pure by the Light. It is a curse, to be a knight who cannot wield the blade given to him upon knighthood."
 
Sarael raised an eyebrow. "A subjective oath indeed. There are many who argue different tenets for the Light. I find it difficult to imagine a ritual that might bind you to the Light itself, though it is not unheard of for individuals to form connections to ... a power, through devotion. More commonly links are made with the Light's less ephemeral agents; deities with more direct presence."

He paused, blinking. "Ah, forgive me. No doubt such a ... scholarly bent is not what you were seeking in answer. I take it from your earlier question that you aren't altogether certain as to the reason behind your blade's reaction?"

At that point, Ari returned with two fresh bowls of stew. He glanced between Lucian's purposeful stance and the sword on the floor, and raised an eyebrow.

"Should I leave you guys to it, or..?"
 
Without much hesitation, Lucian grasped the bowl Ari was holding, nodding in thanks.

"I am probably all that's left of my faith, Sarael. The only knight left of... of my kingdom." His eyes fell to the ground again, veering at the sword on the ground. "And some knight I am," he grumbled bitterly. "So understand, if there's anything I can do to understand it, now more than ever-" His fist clenched at his side. "Now more than ever, I need to figure out how to wield this blade again."
 
Sarael nodded solemnly. "I do not know what I can do for you, but perhaps... perhaps Sylvire herself might offer you better counsel. She may have visited your homeland before the fall, and even if not, likely has more knowledge of it than I have been able to glean from the histories. But perhaps it would be better if you stayed the night, and rested, before you spoke to her. In the meantime, perhaps we can narrow down possible causes. When exactly did you stop being able to wield the sword?"

The mage turned to Ari then, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, Ari. No, you're welcome to join us if you'd like."

"And here I thought you'd leave me standing there like a lemon all day," Ari said, rolling his eyes before slouching into a seat. "Something wrong with your sword, huh? It's aight, a lot of guys have those issues now and again."

"Ari." Sarael shot the teenager a withering look. Ari snickered.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist. I'll, uh, not do that from this point. Serious face on."
 
Lucian stared at Ari, unsure of whether one of the emotions twisted up inside of him made him want to laugh. He took a sip of his soup and changed his gaze to Sarael again.

"Well," began the knight. "I may have had... relations with one of the less holy beings here in Valore. That's when this started. I wasn't aware of this person's particularities at first. It's when I learned that it... started to act up."

He bent down, putting his hand near the sword with the intention of picking it up. The blade flared again.

"Repenting and praying has been useless, I'm afraid."
 
Sarael raised an eyebrow again. "I see. Well, I know that within the Vanguard we hold no ... predispositions towards lauding ah... 'purity', as it were-"

"Thankfully," Ari cut in. Then, when Sarael glared at him. "What?"

The mage sighed, and went on. "And whilst I can't make a committed comment without knowing the exact nature of the ... being, in question, I can say that we largely avoid judgement based on an individual's inherent nature. Certainly, one mistake does not an enemy of the Light make. But what strikes me as interesting about your story, if I am interpreting you correctly, is that your sword didn't begin to trouble you until after you knew of this person's nature? Whilst it may be that the sword's 'knowledge' is limited to your own, it strikes me as odd. Most divine oaths would issue consequence whether a misdeed was performed knowingly or not, or if they intended to forgive ignorance, would not issue consequence retrospectively."
 
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