History recorded Sol Sanctum as a unique temple two hundred kilometres, east, from the Sea of Trees. Its religion worshipped neither Ehedus nor Baha, and its followers walked the path of time. They represented a lack of obsession, without scriptures, without any written text, or tenets even.
Old or young, the men and women from Sol Sanctum wore long, green shawls, around their necks, and nothing more. From pale, olive skin, to deep blue eyes, and with sharp features, they emanated a strange pressure, inducing a sense of awkwardness to those outside their sphere of influence.
“Pardon me, Ehedus, for I hope that there is no blood here,” whispered Aelius, nursing a mild headache. He stared at the dull stairway in front of him, and asked, “Are the nobles aware of the situation?”
With more than a thousand corpses behind them, Magellan grimly nodded in confirmation. “I only received the request much later.”
“Sol Sanctum is an autonomous existence even under Godvildian banners,” reminded Aelius. “We better hope that they’re all alive. I won’t hear the end of it otherwise.”
Aelius shook his head with frustration. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
It started with a step, another, and then seven more. At the tenth, they noticed the magic surface – a dampener to their flow of aeter. Aelius felt the presence drain him of his Mioveroldian strength. At the fifteenth, they hollowed, becoming comparable to trained athletes from the Earthen Realm. Aelius quickly exchanged glances with Magellan in that moment.
“You show me a great kindness, God Ehedus!” whispered the Godvildian High Lord, with sincerity.
Aelius remembered the phenomenon from an old war song from the Age of Staunchness. He hummed the verses, in praise of the Mioveroldian Gods and their mercy towards Sol Sanctum. It was an ancient magic that nobody understood – Aeterna’s Exception.
“A domain with the power of influence, yet outside Mioveroldian governance,” summarized Aelius, in quiet thought. “I often wondered how the temple had even managed to survive for all this time; the conservatives would have burned this place to the ground, if not for the magic protecting it.”
Aelius grumbled and tilted his head skywards. The stairway narrowed and withered with every step. It twisted and coiled around an invisible structure, but without support on either side. After the hundredth step, Aelius noticed the stairway break away from its original architecture. The steps now followed a spiral path to the temple, only mysteriously afloat despite the absence of aeter.
“I forgot how painful this is,” said Aelius, in a complaint. “Are you coping well, General?”
“Yes, My Lord,” lied Magellan, convincingly. “Only a little breathless.”
“How much more until we’re at the top?”
“I believe we’re about two hundred steps away, High Lord Bloodheart.”
Aelius spat an exasperated sigh and looked around, then lower. They were far from the ground, atop a few clouds even. Aelius slowly observed the stairway once more.
“There aren’t any bloodstains after this point,” mentioned Aelius, wiping away the sweat on his forehead. “Do you think the invasion was halted here?”
“Five hundred steps,” murmured Magellan, cautiously. “It’s certainly possible for that person, even without the influence of Aeterna.”
“We need to hurry.”
The two men persisted past the pain in their legs and the weight of their armour. They rested at the six-hundredth step, chests pounding against steel, laboured and in distress. With a deep breath, they took another step, only to pause from a cool breeze. It chilled their bodies at an abnormal pace and froze their sweat in pinches. Aelius turned immediately, out of concern for his subordinate, but noticed Magellan unaffected from the cold.
“Damn dwarven privilege!” thought Aelius, wryly.
Aelius rubbed his eyes and took another step, then a hundred more to reach a flat surface, Sol Sanctum. He felt his strength return as a reward, now surrounded by a weak aeter presence. His eyes scanned the almost bare location, a circular platform, circumferentially decorated with short, broken pillars, and old, unfinished sculptures. He followed along to a portion covered with grass, and a small pond with greater depth than the platform offered. Aelius cocked his head at the phenomenon. But his attention soon waned at the sight of something more important, people – naked and unaffected by their two strange visitors. Magellan respectfully lowered his head when one of the worshippers broke away to welcome them.
“Well met, Children of Ehedus,” greeted a woman, with a sensual, almost distracting voice. She excitedly touched Aelius, in admiration of his features, and trembled. “I smell so much blood and exhaustion…is that why you’re here, to cleanse from the pain?”
The Godvildian High Lord gently pushed the dark-haired woman away and shook his head. He almost felt his soul plummet into bewitchment from the latter’s beauty. “Are you not aware of the situation down below?”
“There’s a situation?” the woman asked, innocently.
“Void Helena should be able to confirm it,” said Aelius. “Is she awake at the moment?”
The woman retreated a little and eyed the Godvildian High Lord, from head to toe. She stifled a soft moan and tremored at the thought of pleasure. Her eyes lowered to the armour in a glare; she wanted to tear away at the metal, the clothing, the undergarments. She covered her mouth to hide a gasp and shifted her gaze towards Aelius, his eyes. An odd pressure permeated the air, magic outside the realm of Mioveroldian control. She yearned for him, enough for her transcendent beauty to twist with greed. Her tongue slipped from her mouth in an unsightly manner, and she approached her visitor once more.
“I can do much better than Void Helena!” the woman whispered, merely a breath away from Aelius. With a smile, she then slowly withdrew to an appropriate distance from her visitors. “The Void is awake, yes. Would you like to come inside, or should I have someone fetch her for you?”
“We’d prefer to stay outside,” said Aelius, without emotion. “You have my thanks.”
The woman faked a smile, almost deliberately. The corners of her lips stretched toward her ears, and her eyes narrowed to slits. It lasted a mere moment. Magellan coughed when the woman’s face eased to a gentler expression; it made him itch with uneasiness.
“How did I not catch you, little man?” the woman said, addressing Magellan. Her voice echoed with purity despite the insult, gentle and soft. “It’s a shame I can’t have you. All those rumours about your vigour, I may never know.”
“And why is that?” interjected Aelius, with a smile.
The woman giggled, covering her mouth with grace. She shook her head and laughed again. “Surely, you jest, visitor.”
Aelius twitched at the comment.
“Yes, yes,” the woman continued. She regained her composure, and then said, “I shall return with the Void. Who may I introduce you as?”
“Aelius Bloodheart.”
