Legend of Ransera

It was the day before the Autumnal Equinox and many of Solunarium's faithful gathered in their local temples to pray for plenty and pay tithes to their hungry deities. The most lavish temple in all of Solunarium was The Temple of the Blazing Sun- a great pyrmid that loomed at the edge of the Palatine District.

Today's service would be particularly hallowed in honour of the equinox, and would be presided over by the Princeps Pontifex himself, the moonborn Vrædyn. Thousands gathered in and around the temple for the privilege of being graced by the light of Aværys as conducted by his sanguine scion, bred of pure of Varværyn stock- the favourite grandchild of the Solar Sovereign herself, who would also be in attendance at the morning service.

Overhead a prismatic shard of illumite slowly rotated, as the royal train processed into the temple. Slowly panels rose to allow the morning sunlight in to set the shard to glowing brighter and casting multihued beams across those gathered below. The Sovereign's golden cape was held aloft of the ground by a pair a court Kineticists who plied their Craft to execute their task, rather than sullying the vestment by touching it with their hands. She might have been floating herself, so grateful was her gait. Over her resplendent crown floated a ball of flame, like a miniature sun blinding to look upon as it rotated above the high arches of the headpiece. This was no illusion, but a true ball of flame. Her skin, visible only in her visage as all other parts of her form were covered by vestments, seemed to glow with its own glorious light- Not unlike that of the prism overhead. With her arms crossed before her chest in gloved hands she bore the symbols of her office: In her right hand the golden sceptre, in her left the silver scourge whip. Her procession ended at a dais to the rear of the pyramid opposite the main entrance, upon which a high, lustrous throne was set. She assumed her seat, and regarded the pulpit before her as Prince Vrædyn, in his vestments of gleaming platinum and pristine white, ascended the altar dais attended by robed acolytes. A glistening crown of silver rounded his dark hair, as he cast his silvery-white eyes across the congregation. A miniature pair of blue-white moons revolved between the silver arches of the crown- a subtler shadow of the Sovereign's celestial simulacrum. He turned and bowed to his grandmother.

The congregation bowed to their centennial queen, heads lowered in reverence until a nod of her head signaled that Vrædyn might continue.

"Your Divine Radiance." He acknowledged in Vastian, before turning his back on the queen to look out over the crowd before and around him.

"As we embark upon the holy time of equinox, we do entreat our Founders for their bounteous blessings. We sing of Aværys: He of the Sceptre, King of Kings and Master of Majesty. We sing of Varvara: She of the Scourge, Mistress of Chains and Midnight's Mother. By Their Grace are we sustained, by Their will do we subsist, and in Their names do we supplicate ourselves." The slow swirl of the prism above cast a beautiful array of colours over the crowd full of nobles in glittering finery, and lesser people nearer the egress, donning their finest attire. This was a temple at which one broadcast their boons, for those had been received at the behest of the Founders. To wear something lesser under the light of Aværys would be to insult Him and to one's neighbours.

"Let us give thanks to our Founders by feeding them that which will empower them to return to minister directly to their chosen children of Re'ha and of Vastium." He gestured to the acolytes at his side, who moved toward a pair of levers on either side of the altar.

"Let us nourish them with our sacrifice." He nodded, and the acolytes pulled the levers, setting the temple to rumbling as the floor in the centre of the great room parted and a great cage rose up from beneath. As the bars came into view, one could see that it was teeming with living creatures. Horses, camels, great squawking birds, humans and even elves- naked and huddled in fear.

"Silence." The prince commanded, and a hush fell over the great cage as if by magic. The congregation, like the caged chattel, would soon be awash in feelings of awe and reverence tinged with notes of calmness, as carefully placed Mesmers washed their sundry Symphonies with religious devotion.

"We do sanctify this blood in sacrifice to our Founders. Let us pray that Divine Aværys and Archmistress Varvara devour their souls that they may feast in splendour and rise in glory." Vrædyn held his arms aloft and the bars of the cage melted down into the floor, no longer necessary. The animals and people therein no longer needed barriers to keep them still, as the prism above descended to the halfway point between floor and ceiling.

"As Aværys will it!" He called forth,

"Nourish them!" Replied the congregation.

"As Varvara commands!"

"Nourish them!"

"Thus shall they burn in radiance divine." At a gesture, the top of the pyramid split four ways and parted, allowing more of the harsh sunlight in, as the hovering prismatic illumite angled itself to receive the radiant sunlight and cast it down onto the floor below. A column of white, blazing fury beamed down upon the sacrificial lives, causing many to avert their eyes lest they be literally blinded as flesh and bone turned to ash in a matter of seconds. The top of the pyramid closed, and the prism returned to its idle rotation as the congregation regarded the floating black snowfall that whirled beneath it over greater piles of ash.

"Founders be praised!" Called the Sovereign behind the pontiff,

"Founders be praised!" Repeated the congregants.

"We claim their blood as our sacrifice Unto you, oh Founders. May You rise to greater glory from the ashes of these doomed souls."

The Radiant Mass would proceed over the next hour, as feelings of fervour were amplified by dedicated Mesmer practitioners. Upon its conclusion, the Solar Sovereign would recess, followed by her Moonborn grandson, as the other congregants were left- Some milling about and taking stock of their neighbours fashion choices, as others rushed out to get back to their occupations or other concerns.

"Change of plans today, boys."

Arry blinked and squinted, lifting his head from the pillow at the sound of a familiar voice speaking Common coming from the general vicinity of his bedroom door. He squinted at the figure framed in the arch.

"Phocion?" He rasped, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

"Mhm. I brought brekkie." He lifted a pastry in one of his gloved hands, "Put something on and meet me on the roof." He smirked, "Nice bum, Finn." He took a bite of the pastry and pivoted round to quit their bedchamber.

They would find Phocion reclining in the beautifully appointed rooftop garden of the residence- A basket of pastries had been placed upon the table, and the silver elf was facing the rising sun.

"We're taking the day off from combat and arcane training. Today we shall embark upon your religious education." He declared, casting a smirking glance over his shoulder. "Help yourselves." As they drew closer they would find that the sentinel, who they'd almost always seen dressed in black with silver accents, was presently dressed in silver with black accents. It was a tunic of brocade that had been enchanted to remain cool in spite of the desert heat- its pattern bore a symbol commonly seen in Solunarium a sceptre crossed with a scourge-style lash.

"Do you know what time it is?" Arry grumbled as he padded toward the table, rubbing his eyes with one hand and closing his robe around his waist with the other.

"I do. After you've eaten your fill, we shall dress you to the nines and make our way to the temple for phase one of today's lesson. The big, showy bit. You'll see Her Divine Radiance. It will be a whole thing. Then, this evening, I believe mother is planning to take you for your first Waning Prayer down in the Umbrium. It'll be a long day. Don't be shy with the rolls." He gestured again toward the basket.

After they broke their fast, Phocion would sift through their wardrobes for appropriately ornate items with which to adorn the two, unsuspecting foreigners.



The spectacle was grandiose to the golden eyes of the erstwhile urchin. Never in his wildest dreams did he envision himself attending the mass, summary execution of a small army of creatures in a public sacrifice to devouring desert deities, but life was wont to take strange turns... At least Arry's life was.

The exhibition was overwhelming, as it was very obviously intended to be. He'd been eager to clap eyes on the Solar Sovereign for as long as he'd been in the realm, and she did not disappoint- Statuesque and dripping with enchanted ostentation, as she was. Her pontifical grandson was easy on the eyes- Moonborn, like Phocion, but taller and with softer features and a musical voice that begged to be believed. His jawline alone seemed worthy of worship, let alone his glimmering gods and their many idols and images all around them.

Although he was aware of the Mesmers manipulating the Symphonies of those around him, he didn't fight off their ministrations. It was part of the experience, he reckoned. When he caught onto the call-and response bits, he spoke the Vastian replies just a hair later than the natives.

Arry did grab Finn's hand at the sudden burst of a radiant ray of white light that turned souls to cinders in a matter of seconds. He scooted closer, conscious of Finn's probable discomfort at such a thing. Finn had never been as blithe about the lives of strangers as Arry could be. Part of him worried that Finn would want to pack up and leave straight away, but most of him was being soothed by the Craft of his fellow Mesmers sprinkled throughout the crowd.

When all was said and done and the sermon drew to a close, Arry bowed with the others as the Sovereign passed, and once she was through the doors Phocion clapped him on the back.

"So? What did you boys make of your first Radiant Mass?"

Arry didn't need to delve into Finn's Symphony to recognise his discomfort at the nature of the rite. He tried to soothe his beloved's Symphony with his own- wanting to give himself wholly to the experience, but not wanting to abandon Finn to the feeling that he was alone in a brutal land. Finn still didn't seem to realise yet that they were all of them alone in a brutal world. Solunarium simply plied its severity in harsh, desert daylight for all to see, while other realms tried to conceal their inequities and inhumanities.

"I'm sure they weren't good people." Arry whispered into Finn's ear, "And they looked so peaceful before-..." He glanced over Finn's head to the strange crystal, now emanating its own light as the panels closed to cut off the rays of the sun that had augmented its radiance.

Looking to Phocion, he forced a smile that belied his concern for Finn.

"I found it very enlightening." He winced at his wording instantly. He'd been trying to downplay his awe with phrasing that might indicate more ambivalence, but ended up making an unintended pun.

"I see what you did there." Phocion sniggered. "At any rate, I need to get down to the Umbrium. I trust you can find your own way back to your domus?"

Arry nodded, and Phocion smiled wanly to his half-brother, then patted Finn upon his broad shoulder, and slipped out into a passing wave of congregants- quickly disappearing into their midst like a Dire Antlion into the sands of Atraxia.

"Are you all right?" Over Finn's shoulder, he caught a glimpse of a luminous figure. It took a moment to realise said figure was waving to them. “Oh look, Finn! It's Æros!" He waved back and started toward him. Though he and Finn had both met the starry-skinned half-elf, they hadn't seen him together. They'd only compared notes about the strange coincidence of independently meeting the same man within the course of a day or two.

"Ave, Æros, and good morning to you!" He offered, code-switching to his upper intermediate Vastian, "I believe you've met my Finn?" He gestured to the fair-skinned human, grinning broadly.

As the crowds quickly began to dissipate, the manipulation of the dedicated Mesmers of the Ministerium Divinitatis waned. A few of the priests and acolytes milled near the altar, but most were quick and orderly in their departure- eager to go about their days, now basked in the holy light of a radiant sacrifice. Servi of the church began to sweep up the remnants thereof.

Arvælyn put his arm around Finn's waist and squeezed slightly. He was weaving an encouraging air- trying to urge, without intent to manipulate, the human's Symphony to find the notes of beauty he'd drawn from their recent experience. With his Rune open to the æther around him, the elf noticed that Æros' Craft had significantly increased in potency since their prior encounter. It had only been a week or so ago, and yet he'd advanced enough that he might have been aware of Arry's subtle communication with Finn's Symphony. It was odd, but he'd undergone a similarly rapid burst of power at one point. Perhaps it was normal amongst those of their common background. Still, at this realisation, he quickly withdrew his urging from Finn, lest he put the human in danger by exposing him and bringing attention to his doubts about the local, compulsory faith.

"Oh yes!" Arvælyn's eyes darted up to the slowly spinning crystal and regarded the multihued reflections it cast upon the ornately decorated walls and ceiling. As he took the time to examine further, he could see that many of the decorations told stories, whether subtle or obvious. Columns that resembled sceptres obscured gold-tinged mosaics depicting apotheosis and conquest.

"And there's so very much to look at..." As his eyes trailed down, they fell upon a familiar face. It was the Vastian girl Hilana, who he and Finn had come to befriend. She was, he thought, an anchoring connection to his past. She was humbler and less imperious than many he'd met in Solunarium- present company included. He wasn't sure whether Æros would approve of the friendship, but still he smiled and waved across the room. Gesturing for her to join them, if she wished.