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The night was cool, and calm. The sky was clear, and the land was washed in the pale light of Arethil's moons, full in their beauty. Beneath them, in the midst of sparse trees and great fields of grass, a lone figure sat silently by a gently burning flame, just near a softly running stream. And there in the quiet, watching the dancing fire, that lone figure - Erën - dwelt in memory.
Recent years were filled with darkness, and violence. These were the things he and his kind were once set starkly against, but farther back in those simpler times, none of them could have known what was to come. They'd all heard of the prophecies, they all knew of the ancient threats, but no one would have believed they would unfold in their time - in this time.
Hubris, he thought, to believe they were above any evil. But of course, such was easy to say now, but back then, even he would deny any such thing could happen...
Sharyrdaes
130 years ago...
The city was brimming with activity. There was excitement in the air, and all of the Shoraes - their collective consciousness - felt it. It had been years since the Sphere of Nykios had been called home, and Swords of the Order had been returning to Sharyrdaes in great numbers. Erën had been one of the last to return, and he traveled only with his closest comrades and friends, Aidathin and Te'leis. They were well renowned through all of the Order as some of the greatest warriors the Order had known, but even Erën - First Sword of the Order - would say that there were many of this generation that were of the Order's greatest. And indeed, their kind had lived in great prosperity due to the actions of those who came before, but in their own time they had maintained such prosperity with unwavering might, proving worthy of their inheritance.
As the three approached the great gates, the runic shapes etched in them began to glow, and the great stones were moved by some unseen force to allow them entry. Like her walls, and her gates, all of Sharyrdaes was made of beautiful, bright stone. It was crafted with such precision and care, that there was not a part of it that did not seem magnificent. Most of the streets were rather close, though there was an obvious main route that led up through the city, which due to how it was built against the mountainside, rose up in obvious tiers. It was at the highest of these tiers where the Temple was built, and the great tower that rose high above, and the council chamber of the Conclave at its pinnacle. And in the midst of the city's architecture, vines, bushes, and trees were all given room to grow using elaborate aqueducts that were fed from rivers and streams that ran through the city, down from the mountains Sharyrdaes was built against.
Erën and his friends entered into a great square as they passed through the gate. At its center was a magnificent fountain, and they approached it to stop and drink from its water. Around them, under the shade of many trees, there were many people working to prepare for a coming celebration. To one looking on, it would seem as though their arrival went unnoticed. But as the people continued to work on their individual projects, through the collective there were many who acknowledged their arrival. Though many preferred a verbal interaction, given the dedication of the Aeraesarian people to their tasks, this was but a typical and accepted part of their culture.
After a short while, they wordlessly departed from there, and started on their way to the Temple. As was tradition for all Swords returning to the holy city, they were to return to the Shorai, housed within the Temple, and lay hands upon it. It would not take them long to arrive.
The Temple was the greatest structure in all of Sharyrdaes, and it was vast. The primary structure was comprised of many levels. There was the Celestial Tower, which reached high into the sky, and there was even a great portion that reached underground, deep into the mountain. Much of an Aeraesarian's youth is spent in the Temple, as it serves as a place of education and training. Perhaps the most important factor in this was the Shorai housed within, as it was believed that before the ritual of the Joining, the more time spent in the presence of the Shorai made the ritual easier to handle for the individual, something that did not usually take place until half a century of age. It served as a place of worship, with a great chapel dedicated to the Celestial Pantheon with Astra at its forefront. And of course, it was home to the Conclave, the authority of their Order and their people.
After arriving at the Temple, they passed through the grand chapel, and stopped before the image of Nykios. Each of them presented their weapon, and knelt before his image for a time, and recited their own, private mantras beneath their breath. When they were finished, they rose to their feet, and continued on to ascend the grand staircase that wrapped itself behind the greatest image within, the statue of Astra, to an archway that led deeper into the Temple, to the Chamber of Tychan. To the Shorai.
They entered the chamber, a great room illuminated by only the pulsing light of the massive crystal within. Many balconies ringed this tall room, and the crystal itself reached tens of meters above. There were many who stood about the chamber. Some of them were Swords who had preformed the tradition of the return and chose to remain for a time, as closeness to the great crystal usually strengthened ones bond with the Shoraes, while distance weakened it. Those who had been away for a long time, often dwell near it longer than most. Others were here for various other reasons, some of them shared this openly while others kept it to themselves. As for them, after they had completed the return, they too chose to remain for a time.
Recent years were filled with darkness, and violence. These were the things he and his kind were once set starkly against, but farther back in those simpler times, none of them could have known what was to come. They'd all heard of the prophecies, they all knew of the ancient threats, but no one would have believed they would unfold in their time - in this time.
Hubris, he thought, to believe they were above any evil. But of course, such was easy to say now, but back then, even he would deny any such thing could happen...
Sharyrdaes
130 years ago...
The city was brimming with activity. There was excitement in the air, and all of the Shoraes - their collective consciousness - felt it. It had been years since the Sphere of Nykios had been called home, and Swords of the Order had been returning to Sharyrdaes in great numbers. Erën had been one of the last to return, and he traveled only with his closest comrades and friends, Aidathin and Te'leis. They were well renowned through all of the Order as some of the greatest warriors the Order had known, but even Erën - First Sword of the Order - would say that there were many of this generation that were of the Order's greatest. And indeed, their kind had lived in great prosperity due to the actions of those who came before, but in their own time they had maintained such prosperity with unwavering might, proving worthy of their inheritance.
As the three approached the great gates, the runic shapes etched in them began to glow, and the great stones were moved by some unseen force to allow them entry. Like her walls, and her gates, all of Sharyrdaes was made of beautiful, bright stone. It was crafted with such precision and care, that there was not a part of it that did not seem magnificent. Most of the streets were rather close, though there was an obvious main route that led up through the city, which due to how it was built against the mountainside, rose up in obvious tiers. It was at the highest of these tiers where the Temple was built, and the great tower that rose high above, and the council chamber of the Conclave at its pinnacle. And in the midst of the city's architecture, vines, bushes, and trees were all given room to grow using elaborate aqueducts that were fed from rivers and streams that ran through the city, down from the mountains Sharyrdaes was built against.
Erën and his friends entered into a great square as they passed through the gate. At its center was a magnificent fountain, and they approached it to stop and drink from its water. Around them, under the shade of many trees, there were many people working to prepare for a coming celebration. To one looking on, it would seem as though their arrival went unnoticed. But as the people continued to work on their individual projects, through the collective there were many who acknowledged their arrival. Though many preferred a verbal interaction, given the dedication of the Aeraesarian people to their tasks, this was but a typical and accepted part of their culture.
After a short while, they wordlessly departed from there, and started on their way to the Temple. As was tradition for all Swords returning to the holy city, they were to return to the Shorai, housed within the Temple, and lay hands upon it. It would not take them long to arrive.
The Temple was the greatest structure in all of Sharyrdaes, and it was vast. The primary structure was comprised of many levels. There was the Celestial Tower, which reached high into the sky, and there was even a great portion that reached underground, deep into the mountain. Much of an Aeraesarian's youth is spent in the Temple, as it serves as a place of education and training. Perhaps the most important factor in this was the Shorai housed within, as it was believed that before the ritual of the Joining, the more time spent in the presence of the Shorai made the ritual easier to handle for the individual, something that did not usually take place until half a century of age. It served as a place of worship, with a great chapel dedicated to the Celestial Pantheon with Astra at its forefront. And of course, it was home to the Conclave, the authority of their Order and their people.
After arriving at the Temple, they passed through the grand chapel, and stopped before the image of Nykios. Each of them presented their weapon, and knelt before his image for a time, and recited their own, private mantras beneath their breath. When they were finished, they rose to their feet, and continued on to ascend the grand staircase that wrapped itself behind the greatest image within, the statue of Astra, to an archway that led deeper into the Temple, to the Chamber of Tychan. To the Shorai.
They entered the chamber, a great room illuminated by only the pulsing light of the massive crystal within. Many balconies ringed this tall room, and the crystal itself reached tens of meters above. There were many who stood about the chamber. Some of them were Swords who had preformed the tradition of the return and chose to remain for a time, as closeness to the great crystal usually strengthened ones bond with the Shoraes, while distance weakened it. Those who had been away for a long time, often dwell near it longer than most. Others were here for various other reasons, some of them shared this openly while others kept it to themselves. As for them, after they had completed the return, they too chose to remain for a time.
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