A Few Hours Before Midnight
The capital of the Varenthion Empire, Varenthis, stood as the beating heart of the realm, governing all affairs alongside the Four Great Clans. Tonight, the city gleamed with a radiance that rivaled the stars, alive with the revelry of thousands. Floating lanterns danced above the streets, laughter echoed through the grand avenues, and music wove through the air like an enchanting spell.
Yet, beneath the facade of celebration, a storm loomed. A darkness that no one foresaw, save for those who ruled.
At the stroke of midnight, the empire would witness a divine event, the selection of the Four Avatars. Pillars of radiant light would ascend to the heavens from their locations, signifying the gods' chosen. Through arcane holograms, the event would be broadcast across the empire, allowing the world to bear witness.
But while the people eagerly awaited a miracle, the rulers of the empire had already resigned themselves to a cruel truth.
The destruction of Vermaris was inevitable. A predetermined calamity meant to remind the world of its frailty. The Emperor and the Four Clan Patriarchs, Ignisborne, Valtair, Stonehelm, and Ventaryn, had chosen not to intervene.
They justified their inaction with cold logic. Only through despair would the people truly understand the might of the Avatars.
Even knowing that thousands would perish, they did nothing.
Within the royal palace, six figures sat around an ornate roundtable in a chamber adorned with golden sigils and intricate carvings of the empire's history. Emperor Cassius Regnar Varenthion, the Four Clan Patriarchs, and the archbishop, overseer of the oracles, deliberated over what lay ahead.
Yet not all were in agreement.
"To think a day like this would come… We, rulers of the greatest clans on the continent, powerless to save a single city."
Felix Stonehelm, patriarch of the Stonehelm Clan, sighed heavily. He had opposed this decision from the beginning, but he was outnumbered. Even if he resented this choice, he had no other option, his own son was about to become the Avatar of Earth, and this event directly concerned his future.
Reluctantly, Felix had submitted to the demands of the Emperor and the Archbishop.
Not that it would have mattered. The other three patriarchs had already agreed. Who knew what deals and methods had led them to such a decision?
Theron Ignisborne, patriarch of the Ignisborne Clan, had chosen to stand by in silence. He had made no declarations of support for the emperor or the church. He was simply waiting, watching.
Finn Ventaryn, patriarch of the Ventaryn Clan, openly declared his cooperation. A man detached from worldly affairs, he followed his own whims, offering his assistance simply because he found it interesting.
Helena Valtair, matriarch of the Valtair Clan, had also pledged her support. She claimed it was the best way to strengthen the people's faith in the Avatars.
Though some suspected she had another motive.
She gave a teasing smirk in Theron's direction.
"I must say, you've changed, Theron. You used to condemn decisions like this. What happened to that self-righteous arrogance of yours? Your past self would have marched to Vermaris alone, just to defy the gods themselves."
A chilling silence fell over the chamber.
The rivalry between the Valtair and Ignisborne Clans was no secret. Helena and Theron had clashed countless times.
Once, he had been a fierce-hearted warrior, a man who fought against injustice with unyielding flames. Meanwhile, she was cold and ruthless, believing her bloodline's superiority destined her for absolute victory.
She would use any means necessary to win.
Her mocking voice carried through the room.
"There's no need to be disappointed, Theron. Your daughter will be an Avatar soon, even if she isn't your blood."
"It's not your fault that incompetence runs in your family. Your failure of a son is proof of that."
"He tried so hard to become more than what he was, and now there's not a trace of him left."
Her words were venomous, laced with cruel amusement.
But Theron remained unmoved.
He opened his eyes, his gaze like smoldering embers.
"Strange. My son never looked incompetent when he defeated your daughter in the True Dragon Tournament."
"Nor when he governed Cindervale and defended it better than any of us."
At his words, Sofia gritted her teeth. A dark expression settled over the table.
Except for Felix, who laughed heartily.
"Those were good times, indeed."
"You know, Theron? After that duel, I actually considered bringing your son into my clan."
"He would have made an excellent rival for my boy. It's a shame he… vanished."
Theron ignored Felix's words. He closed his eyes once more.
The Emperor cleared his throat, ready to steer the conversation back on track.
"Enough with the small talk. Now, let us—"
But before he could finish his sentence, something shifted in the air. A sudden spike in mana pulsed from the palace where the Oracle of Varenthis resided. A greenish hue engulfed the entire palace.
Unbeknownst to them all, Theron Ignisborne had the faintest of smiles on his lips.