The grand chamber of Soran Keep. Enchanted crystals pulsed in the walls like captive stars, their light refracting off the gold-leafed crests of the four great houses. The air hummed with the static of Aetherium, the sacred energy that powered the kingdom’s elite, and the scent of incense coiled like a serpent around the attendees—nobles in silks, knights in steel, and priests in robes dyed the white of bleached bones. At the center burnt the Fme of Soran, said to be a gift granted to the first king by the goddess, its tendrils twisting into shapes that mirrored the tension in the room: wolves, swords, and weeping faces.

  King Andrel sat motionless on the Throne of Light, his crown a circlet of molten gold that seemed to fuse with his silvered hair. To his right, Captain Roderic stood like a gargoyle hewn from granite, his gauntleted hand resting on the pommel of a sword said to have been quenched in dragon’s blood. To his left, Pope Fillce loomed, his ivory robes stitched with threads of living light, his face a mask of celestial indifference. Behind him, the Holy Padins stood sentinel, their armor etched with scripture that glowed like embers.

  The four great houses faced the dais, their leaders arranged in a crescent of cshing ambitions.

  Count Von Vienar lounged in his seat, a panther in human skin, his velvet doublet the crimson of a fresh wound. “Your Majesty,” he drawled, “the Lightbearers.” He spat the word like poison. “Rabble in rags, screaming of ‘justice.’ Let the Church handle its own vermin. Or do your Padins fear getting their hands dirty?” His smirk was a knife slice.

  Pope Fillce’s gaze sharpened. “The Goddess’s light purges all shadows, Count. Even those cast by noble hands.” The unspoken accusation hung in the air: Your house funds the rebels. We know.

  King Andrel surveyed the room, his voice breaking the silence. “The Lightbearers grow bold.” His gaze swept across the assembly. “What began as whispers of discontent has erupted into riots. Vilges loyal to their cause refuse taxation, and they openly challenge the divine selection of the Aetherium. They threaten the very foundation of our faith. I have summoned you all here to decide our course of action.”

  Lord Von, his presence as imposing as ever, smmed his gauntleted fist onto the table. “This is treason! Heresy, pin and simple! These rebels defy the will of Lumara herself. We cannot allow their corruption to fester. Deploy the Holy Padins and the Royal Knights. Let us burn out this filth before it spreads further.”

  Lady Elyssa Calystria, ever composed, lifted a gloved hand. “Brute force alone will not end this, Lord Vienar. The Lightbearers’ grievances did not appear overnight. We cannot deny the seeds of their anger—centuries of neglect and disparity. Perhaps we should hear their leaders out before we condemn them all.”

  Duke Rowan Trelvain scoffed, his lips curling in disdain. “You speak as though we have the luxury of time, Lady Calystria . Every day this rebellion grows unchecked, our trade routes suffer, our markets tremble, and my coffers bleed coin. We must strike swiftly. Let them learn what it means to challenge the order of this realm.”

  Lady Cassandra Viremont nodded in agreement. “While I support swift action, reckless sughter will only make martyrs of them. We must be precise. Cut off the head of the snake, scatter the body. The leaders must be eliminated, and the followers left to falter in their absence.”

  The discussion raged on, with lesser nobles offering half-hearted suggestions, though their voices held little weight against the titans of the great houses. Some called for reforms to pcate the rebels, while others insisted that only fire and steel could restore order.

  As the room continued to simmer with debate, a quiet but firm voice rose above them all.

  “And what of Lumara’s will?”

  The chamber fell into silence as Pope Fillce, adorned in flowing white and gold robes, stepped forward. His aged yet piercing gaze swept across the lords and knights gathered before him.

  “For centuries, the Church has been the guiding light of this kingdom. The Lightbearers cim to seek justice, yet they sow discord among the faithful. Their actions defy the harmony Lumara teaches. This is not simply rebellion against the crown, but a defiance of divine order itself.”

  He turned his gaze to the king. “Your Majesty, you ask how we shall act? The answer is clear. If we allow their heresy to take root, it will spread like wildfire, consuming all that we hold sacred. We cannot allow the faith to be twisted by those who misunderstand its purpose. Their leaders must be silenced, and their followers reminded of the true path. If they will not return to the light willingly…” he exhaled, “…then they shall perish in darkness.”

  The weight of his words settled over the chamber. The Pope’s stance carried divine authority—resistance to his decree was unwise.

  King Andrel leaned back in his throne, his golden robes catching the firelight from the Eternal Fme beside him. He had heard all he needed to. His voice, unwavering, sealed the fate of the rebellion.

  “Enough.”

  The chamber fell silent once more.

  “The Lightbearers cim to fight for justice, but they seek to unravel the kingdom, to defy Lumara’s chosen order. If we let this fester, it will tear Pentra apart. I will not allow that.”

  His gaze sharpened. “From this day forth, the rebellion shall be stamped out. The Holy Padins will ride. The Royal Knights will march. Let it be known—the kingdom of Pentra does not bow to heretics.”

  Murmurs of agreement spread through the gathered nobles. Some had hoped for mercy, but none dared challenge the King’s final decree. The Church stood beside the Crown, and with that unity, the path was set.

  As the meeting concluded, orders were issued. The bells of Luminaris tolled thrice, their solemn chimes echoing through the streets of the capital. Across Pentra, from the towering spires of Luminaris Cathedral to the farmnds of Sunvale, priests took to the podiums, their voices amplified by the divine resonance of Aetherium relics.

  A procmation had been issued.

  From the High Altar of Lumara, Pope Fillce himself addressed the faithful. His voice, measured and commanding, resonated through the great hall and beyond, reaching every corner of the kingdom.

  “People of Pentra, hear me.

  A grave shadow seeks to silence the voice of our Goddess. The Lightbearer heretics, emboldened by their treason, conspire to strike at the heart of our faith. They do not seek justice. They seek to sever the bond between Lumara and her people.

  In two days, the Holy Inauguration of Melissa Pentra, chosen as the next Holy Priestess, will take pce. It is through her that the will of our Goddess shall be spoken, and a path to salvation revealed.

  And yet, these heretics seek to destroy her before she can speak.

  They do not wish for truth. They do not wish for justice. They only wish for chaos. They would rob the world of Lumara’s light and plunge us into darkness.

  I call upon you, faithful children of the Goddess.

  Should you know of any who consort with the rebels, who whisper their poison in the streets, who aid them in their heresy, then you must act. Report them to the Royal Knights so they may be brought to justice before they strike against the divine.

  We cannot allow these bsphemers to steal Lumara’s voice. We cannot allow them to deny the people her truth. The Light must prevail.”**

  The procmation spread like wildfire. In the streets of Luminaris, whispers turned to murmurs, murmurs to shouts. Within hours, fear and fervor took hold of the people.

  Some clutched their prayer beads, vowing to stand vigint against the heretics. Others saw opportunity—informants and spies emerged, eager to curry favor with the Church and the Royal Knights by turning in their neighbors. The city guard received countless reports, many false, driven by paranoia, greed, or old grudges.

  Tensions fred.

  In the noble districts, the minor noble houses convened in secret, each questioning how much of this procmation was truth and how much was political maneuvering. Were the rebels truly pnning an attack, or was the Church consolidating its control?

  In the shadowed corners of the capital, the true rebels whispered among themselves. The Church’s move had put them in check, but they were not defeated. If the people were turning against them, they had one choice left—strike first.

  Inside the halls of Soran Keep, a messenger kneeled before King Andrel Pentra, his face pale.

  “Your Majesty, the Church’s decree has ignited the city. The people are hunting rebels in the streets. More concerning, however, there are reports of movements in the noble houses. The Vienars, Velnars, Orthells, and Thalrins have all increased their private guard numbers.”

  Captain Roderic frowned. “They are preparing for something.”

  The king sat in silence, his fingers tapping against the armrest of the Throne of Light.

  “And the missing knights?” he asked.

  The messenger hesitated. “No sign of them, Your Majesty. But there are whispers… of mercenaries moving through the northern roads, hired bdes from Ashenveil. The war room of the castle Soran Keep was tense, the flickering light of the Eternal Fme casting long shadows over the gathered figures. King Andrel sat at the head of the table, his fingers steepled as the test report was read aloud.

  “The Knights of Pentra have departed from the northern front,” the messenger announced. “Their captain, Alric Vienar, leads them back to the capital under the pretense of reinforcing security for the Holy Inauguration.”

  A heavy silence followed.

  The King’s gaze darkened. “Count Von Vienar pys his hand. First the missing knights, now this?” He exhaled sharply. “I want eyes on Alric the moment he steps into the capital. If he is here to ‘protect’ the ceremony, then we shall ensure he does just that—under our watch.”

  Roderic bowed. “It will be done, Your Majesty.”

  The King’s grip tightened on the armrest of his throne.

  NOTE

  cssification for the Church of Lumara

  Holy Priestess / Pope

  The supreme leader of the church, guiding its spiritual direction and overseeing all rituals, ceremonies, and sacred duties. If the Holy Priestess is not avaible, the Pope assumes this role as the highest-ranking authority.

  High Priests / High Priestesses

  The closest advisers to the Holy Priestess or Pope serve as the top-tier clergy responsible for overseeing major sanctuaries and temple activities, ensuring that doctrine and rituals are followed across regions.

  Priests / Priestesses

  The backbone of the Church, performing daily rituals, leading prayers, administering sacraments, and providing spiritual guidance to the people. They serve in the community and local temples.

  Bishops

  Senior leaders oversee multiple regions or dioceses, ensuring that the teachings and practices of the Church are upheld within their jurisdiction. They also perform high ceremonies like ordinations and consecrations.

  Padins

  Devoted warriors and protectors of the faith. They defend the Church from threats, uphold justice, and maintain peace in the name of Lumara. They often serve as elite guards for important clergy and temples.

  Cardinals

  Senior clergy are tasked with advising the Pope or Holy Priestess on matters of faith, doctrine, and church policy. They often act as diplomats, representing the Church in interactions with other organizations or regions.

  Deacons / Deaconesses

  Assistants to the clergy, particurly in the administration of sacraments and serving the needy. They may also lead certain liturgies and community outreach efforts.

  This hierarchy represents a bance between spiritual authority, administrative duties, and the protection of the faith, with each role contributing to the mission of the Church of Lumara.