R.I. 181
The White Sanctuary
There was a place known to almost no one.
Neither kings nor scholars had recorded its existence, and no map had ever marked its location. Those few who knew of it spoke only in whispers, as though even its name carried a weight too great to utter aloud.
They understood only one truth.
The sanctuary had been built to conceal and protect a being whose very existence could change the fate of the world.
The chamber itself was a masterpiece of impossible beauty.
Endless white marble stretched farther than the eye could follow, interrupted only by towering pillars that rose toward a ceiling hidden behind an ocean of radiant light. The brilliance pouring from above was neither sunlight nor fire, but something purer—soft, unwavering, and almost divine. It washed over every pillar and every polished stone until the entire sanctuary seemed carved from light itself.
Silence ruled the chamber.
Not the silence of peace, but the solemn stillness of a sacred place where even time appeared reluctant to move.
At the very heart of the sanctuary rested a single enormous bath, large enough for one man to lie within.
Nothing else occupied the vast hall.
Its emptiness only made the place feel more mysterious.
Dozens of translucent white curtains descended from the unseen ceiling, surrounding the bath in countless overlapping layers. Through the shifting fabric, only the faint outline of a solitary figure could be seen beneath the steaming water.
Thin streams of steam drifted lazily into the air, dissolving into the white glow overhead. Beneath the gentle hiss of escaping vapor came the steady sound of bubbling water, echoing softly through the immense chamber.
Whatever filled the bath was hot enough to blur the air itself.
Standing in a perfect circle around it were twenty robed figures.
Each wore flowing white ceremonial robes embroidered with golden flames along the sleeves and hems. Across the back of every robe was woven an ancient rune unlike any known language, each symbol unique to its wearer and stitched with shimmering golden thread.
Their faces remained hidden beneath deep hoods.
Only their hands were visible.
And those hands revealed what their robes concealed.
Not all of them were human.
One pair was covered in dark green skin as rough as ancient bark.
Another was hidden beneath thick gray fur.
One figure possessed broad, powerful fingers ending in blunt nails, while another’s hands were surprisingly small and stout, unmistakably belonging to a dwarf.
Humans stood among them.
So did beings from races long forgotten by ordinary history.
Yet despite their differences, every one of them stood in absolute silence.
None dared shift their footing.
None exchanged so much as a glance.
Even the drifting steam seemed careful not to disturb the solemn atmosphere surrounding the mysterious figure beyond the curtains.
At last, one of the robed figures stepped forward.
He lowered his head respectfully before speaking.
“Your Majesty… the war has lasted far longer than we anticipated.”
His voice echoed briefly through the sanctuary before fading into silence.
“Our casualties continue to grow. Many of the Awakened have already given their lives on the battlefield. In the northeastern territories, rebellion has erupted. The burden of war and excessive taxation has driven the people to take up arms against the Empire.”
Before anyone else could speak—
A deep cough emerged from behind the curtains.
It was neither loud nor violent.
Yet the sound alone was enough to tighten every heart in the chamber.
Twenty figures straightened instinctively.
The Emperor had spoken.
Or rather…
He had announced that he was listening.
For a brief moment, no one dared breathe.
Then his voice came again, calm and measured despite the weariness hidden beneath it.
“The signs.”
Only two words.
No explanation was needed.
Every person present understood exactly what His Majesty was asking.
A tall figure stepped forward.
Gray fur covered both of his hands, disappearing beneath the sleeves of his robe.
“None have appeared, Your Majesty.”
Silence followed.
Long enough for the bubbling water to become the only sound in the sanctuary.
“…That is, at least, some small comfort.”
The Emperor’s voice remained composed, though exhaustion lingered beneath every syllable.
“I continue to witness troubling visions.”
The curtains stirred gently as steam drifted between them.
“We no longer have the luxury of waiting.”
Another pause.
Then came his next question.
“How many more have we recovered?”
Again, no explanation was necessary.
Everyone in the chamber knew exactly what he meant.
The sacred relics…
The crimson Lude Stones.
And the azure Ave Stones.
One of the robed figures stepped forward once more.
Keeping his head bowed, he spoke with measured caution.
“Your Majesty, we have recovered one additional Lude Stone and three Ave Stones. However, we have yet to discover a single compatible bearer. It would seem that our efforts to locate the Awakened through artificial means have reached their limit.”
Silence settled over the sanctuary.
The Emperor gave no immediate reply.
Instead, another quiet cough echoed from behind the curtains.
The speaker understood its meaning at once. He lowered his head once more and quietly returned to his place without another word.
After a long pause, the Emperor spoke again.
“What news from the eastern and western continents?”
Two figures stepped forward at the same time.
Both appeared to be human.
The man on the left bowed respectfully before delivering his report.
“The Western Continent remains unchanged, Your Majesty. The Three Kingdoms continue to keep one another in check, and none is willing to make the first move. At this rate, I fear our plans there will be delayed for some time.”
The Emperor neither acknowledged nor questioned the report.
His silence alone was enough to invite the second man to speak.
“My report concerns the Eastern Continent,” the second man said calmly. “Apart from a few minor border disputes, there have been no significant developments. However, history is not always shaped by great armies. Sometimes the smallest flutter of a bird’s wings is enough to summon a storm.”
Several of the robed figures turned toward him.
For the first time since the meeting had begun, the perfect stillness of the sanctuary wavered ever so slightly.
“A bird’s wings?” the Emperor asked. His voice remained calm, but there was now unmistakable authority behind it. “Darby, speak plainly.”
The man known as Darby inclined his head.
Though his face remained hidden beneath the hood, a sharp glint flashed briefly in his eyes.
“Last night, a crimson star fell from the eastern sky. According to the ancient doctrines of astronomy, such an omen signifies the collapse of balance. I believe someone whose influence reaches across an entire continent will soon depart this world.”
No one interrupted him.
Only the soft bubbling of the water filled the chamber.
“There is one more matter,” Darby continued. “Several days ago, a letter arrived from the archaeologist we secretly dispatched to the Continent of Shannon. He believes he has discovered traces of the Violet Sword’s Tip.”
The atmosphere within the sanctuary changed at once.
One figure shifted his footing.
Another slowly raised his head.
Even those who had remained perfectly composed could not conceal the subtle ripple of surprise spreading through the circle.
Behind the curtains, the Emperor remained silent for several moments.
Then, a faint sound escaped him.
It might have been a laugh.
Or something older than laughter.
“Well done, Darby. As expected of you. Since the Violet Sword is already in our possession, only its missing tip remains. Recover it, and the seal will open.”
No one spoke.
The steam curled between the curtains, briefly revealing the shadow of the figure within the bath before swallowing it again.
“You will leave for the Eastern Continent immediately. Entrust your responsibilities here to another. Recovering the Stones remains important, but bringing an entire continent beneath our banner is of far greater value. I will assign three Awakened and one Blader to accompany you.”
A ripple spread quietly through the circle.
Though none dared object, every person present understood the weight of the Emperor’s command.
To remove three Awakened and a Blader from the front while war still raged was no small decision.
Darby bowed even deeper.
“Your Majesty, if I depart now, what will become of the war?”
Another silence followed.
This one felt colder.
“The war has endured for centuries. It will endure a little longer.”
The Emperor’s voice was calm.
Almost indifferent.
“My recovery is nearly complete. When the time comes, I shall reclaim what was taken from us myself. Remember this well, Darby. One lost brother is worth more than ten victories. Never forget that.”
Darby lowered his head until it nearly touched the white marble floor.
“As you command, Your Majesty.”
“Take Maoxiku, the Violet Sword. It was born in the Eastern Continent, and there it shall be made whole once more. Find its missing tip and awaken our brother. Above all, do not repeat the failure of the Central Continent. However many years it takes, unite the East beneath our banner, and see that every kingdom bows before us.”
“I swear it shall be done.”
Darby remained bowed.
Beneath the shadow of his hood, where no one else could see, the corner of his mouth slowly curved upward.