Prince of The Abyss

Aether squinted as his eyes adjusted, taking in the sweep of green hills that rolled out like waves. A single path cut through them, pale stone, it was worn but smooth, leading towards a distant city crowded in gold.

The air smelled of fruit and wheat, the kind of scent that reminded him of harvest festivals; he had experienced some himself, but not many, so it brought him back. Birds wheeled lazily overhead, too at peace to fear the figures who had just arrived. He could hear laughter somewhere; it was faint, drifting from a village near the foot of the hill.

White cottages sat in tidy rows, their windows blooming with flowers, smoke rising from clean chimneys. Children ran through the streets with ribbons tied to sticks, and old men rested beneath apple trees, telling stories to others.

The sky didn’t seem to move, the light was soft and forgiving, as if time was refusing to hurry, taking its sweet time.

For a while, he said nothing.

Coming from a place like the Withered, it was too nice. This was a titan rank book; it couldn’t be so... nice.

Frozen Crown was only one rank higher, and it was in absolute ruin from the first place. This was unreal; something had to be up.

He stepped forward, his boots sinking slightly into grass that felt like velvet. The warmth reached him instantly, brushing the cold of the Withered from his skin. For once, it didn’t feel like the world was against him. It almost felt like a reward.

...

Affinity — [Abyss]

> A slumbering void stirs within you. It gazes back.

...

’It was worth a try.’

His affinity wasn’t restricted like it had been inside of Frozen Crown, sadly. Really, he didn’t think it would be such help in this place; there were no shadows in this place... not even he had one.

His eyes widened seeing how it was missing, and it wasn’t just for him; all of the others were missing their shadows.

Instead, when he looked at his hand, he saw a mark.

It covered the back of his hand, gleaming faintly beneath the thin layer of grime and blood. It wasn’t small, neatly the size of his backhand, the lines sharp and deliberate, like something burned in rather than drawn.

A golden sun crowned behind a silver sword, both enclosed by a wreath of laurel leaves. The design caught the light every time he moved, as if alive. The gold seemed too bright, the silver too pure, but both felt wrong.

He turned his hand, and the mark shimmered again, threads of faint blue gliding under the skin like veins.

He wasn’t even the only one who had it; all of his party had one, yet the light inside was dimmer for some, and brighter for others. Interestingly enough, he had the dim light, with Riven behind it. It seemed as if their newest recruits had the brightest light.

Which made him wonder why?

It was him, Riven, and Lyra; they had the dimmest light, but why them?

’Our deeds shall be shown to the whole world.’

He looked once more at his crest. Was it what it meant by showing their dead to the world?

It would make sense, he had the dimmest light because, of course, he had done the most evil deeds, with Riven coming behind him. But at the same time, Riven light wasn’t that much brighter than his, even if he had done many more evil deeds.

So then were the deeds of the characters they took over.

But how had they gotten the order right...

Well, actually, if he thought about it, the Codex had the ability to see their sins already; it needed it for the Trial of Salvation.

So then did the Codex also choose their character when inside a group by the sins

...

’Interesting.’

Now that he figured that out, what the crest on his hand meant, what caught his eye was the carriage near them, and the path that led toward the city. Were they merchants... but why? This was a reader book; shouldn’t they have been given some better characters? Frozen Crown had chosen the last Vessel of Praise for him, quite literally, the only one who could change the story.

Sighing, he signaled to his party to start moving towards the city. With their horses moving with pride on the road.

He didn’t know what to think. After seeing its rank, he thought that this would be similar to Frozen Crown, but yet, it was so much different. It was more peaceful, and for the first time in a while, the sun glimmered brightly on them.

None of them were used to this, to a happy land; it was like a fairy tale.

Like a paradise.

’But something like that can’t exist...’

Soon they reached the city, walking through the gates.

The city looked alive, in a way Aether hadn’t seen in a long while, maybe ever...

Stone streets gleamed like polished marble, clean enough to mirror the sky. Banners of gold and white hung from every archway, stirring in a lazy breeze. The walls themselves weren’t high or defensive; they were open, welcoming, built from pale limestone that caught the sun and glowed as if lit from within.

Every corner spilled with color, not black and grey like the Withered, gardens blooming from terrances fountains whispering from courtyards, market stalls lined with glass jars of honey, fruit, and bright woven cloth.

The people moved with a rhythm too steady to be real. Merchants called out, smiling, their laughter rolling through the air like music. It was so different from the merchants in the Withered. Children ran between soldiers without fear, and those knights didn’t bark or threaten, they smiled, bowed even, their armors were polished, maybe even too bright, to the point it hurt to look at. As if they had not been stained once, as if they hadn’t been in a battle ever.

Aether slowed as they passed through the streets. Near the center stood a monument, a towering statue of a man with a calm face and a sword raised toward the heavens. The same crest that burned on his hand was carved into the base. The golden sun and silver sword, the wreath of laurel leaves...

He stared for a long while. The inscription beneath read:

”To the Hero who saved the City of Dawn, may his light guide all who follow.”

Lyra glanced at him, uneasy. ”This... feels wrong,” she murmured.

He nodded slightly. The city was beautiful, yes. But beauty like this came at a cost. A paradise can’t be without sacrifice. It was too organized, too bright, as if the light itself was keeping something buried.

He could see the smile now, a little too forced, the joy a little too rehearsed. The way people’s eyes lingered a moment too long on the mark on their hands.

For the first time since stepping into this book, Aether felt cold again.

At the very center of the city rose the Sanctum of Light, an immense palace of spires and domes, from what he learned from a guard, since he was curious. It cradled the Heartforge, a radiant crystal said to contain the Source of Virtue. Its glow spilled outwards, dominating the city, bathing every street, every square, and every cathedral in a liquid sunlight.

Cathedrals of white stone surrounded the Sanctum, their spires catching the light and humming faintly in response, a resonance that Aehter could feel deep in his chest. Every surface, cobblestones, polished fountains, and mirrored windows that reflected the sky and the citizens alike. It was deliberate; this kingdom worshiped its own reflection, obsessed with appearances.

The Heartforge pulsed constantly, its brilliance seeping into every corner of the city, shaping the order, the reverence, and the obsession that clung to every street. The citizens moved like part of a carefully arranged tableau, drawn to the crystal’s radiance, believing it to be divine light.

From anywhere in the city, the Sanctum’s presence was inescapable. Its luminous authority both dazzled and unnerved, and Aetheer, walking through streets polished like mirrors, felt like tension beneath perfection.

Something was wrong about it; he didn’t know why, but he felt that something was kept hidden. He had figured out Frozen Crown, so he could sense when something was wrong.

It reminded him of the Second Ring slightly, but it was much worse than it had been, since there, the paradise was made to deal with their hope crushed, here, it felt as if they were being controlled, chasing a corrupt order.

And he knew, deep inside his heart, that it had to do something with the Sanctum, specifically the Heartforge.

Something was hidden there.

He had to find a way inside.

There...

Or the massive castle floating inside the Sky. It was strange, it was for everyone to see, and yet no one glanced at it. But why? Not even the others could; only he could see it.

But why?

...

...

Aether turned back.

For a second, sensing someone’s gaze at him.