"Tejasvinaḥ sūryasya vegaḥ!"
Her silver hair blazed with an incandescent light, each strand shimmering with intricate, self-illuminating patterns. A powerful ray of pure energy erupted from the spell circle beneath Vivienne's feet, slicing through the remaining forest with blinding speed and force.
In the blink of an eye, Aerion found himself abruptly transported. He was nestled against Vivienne, his small body pressed tightly against her, his face buried in the soft fabric of her tunic, his hands clutching her corset with a desperate grip. They stood on the edge of an unfamiliar cliffside, a colossal, frame-like structure crafted from an unknown, luminous material dominating the landscape before them.
[That was… scary, scary, scary… Gosh, I'm alive.] His thoughts were a jumbled mess of lingering fear and profound relief. His eyes were tightly shut, seeking the comforting darkness behind his lids.
Vivienne's eyes, the golden light fading, returned to their normal, vibrant green. She looked down at Aerion, still clinging to her, and a gentle smile softened her features before she carefully released him. "We are here… finally."
She began to walk towards the giant frame as if the harrowing ambush had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Aerion, his legs still shaky, instinctively grabbed her hand. Vivienne felt his small, trembling grip and looked back, a hint of confusion in her eyes as she saw the lingering fear and uncertainty in his tear-filled gaze.
Kneeling before him, she gently cupped his face in her hands, her thumb softly wiping away the tears that still welled in his crimson eyes. "Are you scared, little one?" she asked, her voice filled with motherly concern.
Aerion nodded, unable to articulate the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. [I couldn't stop the tears. My body reacted on its own. It was scary, yes, but not terrifying enough to make me cry like this… so why are my eyes wet? Is my physical form still lagging behind my mental age?]
"What about Lord Lysander and the other guards?" Aerion asked, his voice still trembling slightly. Hearing his fear, Vivienne's expression softened further. She gently stroked his hair, her touch reassuring. "They will be alright, Aerion. All of them are great warriors, and Lord Lysander is the best among them. Okay?" Aerion nodded, though a shadow of doubt still lingered in his eyes.
[I believe her… I have to.]
They began to walk towards the colossal frame, each of Aerion's steps feeling heavy, his body still vibrating with the residual adrenaline. Only the strength of his adult mind pushed him forward. Vivienne, perceptive as ever, noticed his forced movements. She wanted to let him find his own strength, but her heart wouldn't allow it. She stopped, and with a gentle scoop, lifted Aerion from the ground, cradling him in her arms close to her heart. He snuggled into her embrace, the rhythmic beat of her heart a soothing balm, and slowly drifted into a deep, exhausted slumber as she continued towards the frame.
Back in the forest, the unnatural fog had completely dissipated under the force of Vivienne's magic. Lysander stood amidst a gruesome carpet of countless bisected bees. He picked up one of the lifeless halves, examining the precise cut, when he heard approaching footsteps. He turned, finding five of his elite guard emerging from the trees. A faint smirk touched his lips. "Caxais… what are your thoughts on that little ambush?"
The man with curly brown hair, striking sapphire eyes, and subtle wolf-like features spoke with a cocky grin. "It was a well-conceived plan, I'll give them that. Using those altered bees to drain our paranh, then attempting to kidnap the young lord. But they underestimated the fact that all of us were present, ha!"
The woman beside him, bearing similar lupine features, rolled her eyes. "Oh, here he goes again. Commander, are you deliberately inflating his ego? By the way, are Lady Vivienne and the young lord safe?"
Lysander looked at Heena and nodded. "Yes, they are safe. Lady Vivienne is a formidable mage in her own right. And yes, perhaps I indulge Caxais a bit, but his strategic mind is sharp, even if his delivery is… enthusiastic. Wouldn't you agree?"
A man with short blonde hair nodded in agreement. "I do believe this is not the appropriate time for such discussions, Commander."
Maria, her voice edged with aggression, added, "I concur. This is a serious matter. If anyone dares to lay a hand on our lord's legacy, they will face my wrath."
Raksh, his tone calm and analytical, knelt beside one of the dead bees. "These are indeed altered. They feed on a host's paranh by attaching and paralyzing them, eventually draining them completely, leaving only an empty husk. We don't have species like this within our kingdom."
"How many of these creatures did we eliminate, anyway?" Andrew asked. A chorus of replies followed: "A few hundred thousand," they said in unison.
They looked to Lysander for the final count. "Around five million," he stated, his voice matter-of-fact. "That's where I lost count."
"As expected of you, Commander," they replied, a mixture of respect and awe in their voices.
They moved through the forest, checking on other knights. Some, caught off guard by the sudden ambush, had sustained injuries and were receiving treatment, while others had remained vigilant.
Raksh knelt beside the corpse of a mage, its bony hand still clutching a Nirava crystal. He ran his fingers over the body, pausing at the stomach. His fingers pressed into the flesh, encountering no resistance. Raksh lifted the mage's tunic, revealing a precise, clean slash wound that had cleanly severed the internal organs without damaging the fabric of the clothing. "Commander," he called, his voice low. "I've found something." Lysander walked towards him, towering over the kneeling general. "Yes, General?"
Raksh sighed, looking up at him, still holding the corpse. "This mage… she has a wound. A sword wound, precisely. It only cut her organs, leaving the clothes untouched." Lysander nodded, waiting. Soon, the other generals arrived, each with similar findings from different parts of the battlefield. Lysander sat down on a nearby rock, his blindfolded face turned towards the rising sun. [What is your ultimate aim, Your Highness? I confess, I do not yet understand.]
Meanwhile, Aerion, still cradled in Vivienne's arms, held her hand tightly as they approached the majestic, giant frame, an otherworldly structure that seemed to hum with an unseen energy. As they drew closer, a colossal rock golem, standing sentinel like a gatekeeper, came into view. It held a massive rocky staff, the top of which glowed with a vibrant, flowing red energy, like molten liquid eternally dancing. Its expressionless stone face turned towards them as they approached. "Oh mighty Giant," Vivienne called out, her voice respectful, "it is your humble Queen of Sangrael."
The golem nodded, the movement causing a low grinding sound, like boulders shifting against each other, a testament to its stony composition. "Oh humble lady," it responded, its voice a deep rumble, "you always grace me with your honeyed words. And is that the young lord who holds your hand?" the golem asked, its unblinking stone eyes fixed on Aerion.
Vivienne giggled, nodding excitedly. "Yes, Mister Rue, this is my and Valdemar's baby, Aerion, the heir to the Sangrael throne. Aerion, look," she said, gently turning his head, "this is Mister Rue, my and your father's old friend and the guardian of this gate, present in the world of the living."
[Dang he is giant in true words.]
Aerion's eyes widened at the revelation of the golem's high status and immense responsibility. He spoke in a soft, respectful tone, "Hello…"
Rue bent down, his massive form surprisingly agile despite its bulk, though there was still a considerable distance between them. "Nice to meet you, young lord," it rumbled. He then straightened, his empty stone eyes turning back to Vivienne, his tone shifting to a more formal register. "Now, state your affairs for being here, Queen of Sangrael…" His words were gentle yet held an Inherent coldness, which didn't seem to bother Vivienne. She explained to him the necessity of Aerion's journey to Suryasthirh, presenting him with the direct order from King Valdemar and the official agreement from the council. After carefully examining the documents, Rue nodded in agreement, granting them passage through the gate.
Rue looked at them again. "So, you desire to return home?" he asked Vivienne. She nodded. "Suryasthirh, the floating paradise," he murmured, his rocky eyes glowing with an inner light, shifting through hues of purple, black, and blue, revealing fleeting images of a breathtaking, ethereal landscape filled with white, shimmering structures. The red liquid atop his staff pulsed with the same otherworldly display. Then, the transparent, seemingly empty space within the frame began to ripple and tear. It was an unbelievable sight, as if reality itself was being pulled inward, distorting the very fabric of existence. The effect was reminiscent of the cockpit view of a speeding spacecraft from the games Aerion had played in his previous life. Within moments, the distorted space began to coalesce, becoming clearer, revealing a place utterly different from the forest they currently occupied. As far as Aerion could see, even through his still-sleepy eyes, the surroundings were exquisitely crafted, and a delicate, alluring fragrance, like a garden overflowing with jasmine, wafted towards them.