Mum wanted the whole baptism and godmother business completed as soon as possible, but she too knew the value of tradition to get it over with. Thus, at the first break of light the day after, we hurried to the local sanctum.
Cold gusts of wind blew, easily finding its way through the loose ceremonial robe draped on my shoulders. I clasped my arms tightly under my chest and crept between my parents. The biting winds would have miffed me royally if not for the cold bath I endured. Thankfully, it wasn't winter. Aunt Emi walked before me; she wore a blue full-sleeved traditional attire, similar to Mum’s, though her hem was not so easy to manage. Counting father, their gait held an air of nonchalance.
The sanctum stood at the heart of the city, protected by two towering walls. The first wall enclosed a large block of land where the city's most influential people resided, including the lord of the city, many noble families, and, of course, the Fabled Knight, who had sworn an oath to protect the sanctum with his life. His immediate disciples and their squires also lived within these walls.
The inner city was far more beautiful, and different, too. Buildings weren’t clustered together, competing for space, nor were there crowds of people. Well, given the hour, we’d be lucky to find anyone on the path.
We scurried closer to the grand hippodrome, marking halfway to the final barrier. The majestic edifice was built mere decades ago, employing the finest builders and artisans. It would be centuries before it would see any wear or tear.
A dozen youths of different ethnicities practised their swordplay in the open field. On another side, a few more meditated, wearing thin, sleeveless robes, their backs straight under the caress of the icy wind.
“Are they…” I opened my lips, faltering midway.
“Squires,” Aunt Emi answered. “Come now, you’ll have plenty of time to peep at them.”
They’d probably be done with their training by the time we were finished, but I did not complain.
Four stalwart guards stood at the final gate, ensuring that we entered through the legitimate way. They took this very seriously, as even a freeholder could not enter the sanctum without a prior appointment, which usually took days to be approved. Aunt Emi had to use her station of a Magus to get our appeal approved last evening.
The innermost wall protected a small plot of land—barely a few acres—which held a vast green field and the sanctum. It stood more like a solitary fortress than an edifice of religious importance. Still, with its walls plastered pristine white, and its form symmetrical, the sanctum boasted a view of contemporary brilliance.
Eight towers stood on all sides, with a higher circular tower of black stone in the middle. Even though the Oracle was the newest being to ascend to godhood, her influence was more prevalent than that of the old deities, such as the goddess of Fire and Passion, Solas, or the god of Earth, Zaguar.
We crept closer to find the gate closed. We had to wait before a rector would come to oversee our ceremony. It seemed there was still some time, so everyone secured themselves on a bench under a tree.
“I’ll go check what’s taking them so long,” Mum said, standing up after a few minutes. Father joined her as they hurried towards the west side of the sanctum.
I rubbed my palms together, whereas Aunt Emi used her time reading a book with one leg crossed over the other.
“What are you reading?” I asked.
“Some fascinating theories,” Aunt Emilyn said, lifting her head.
“What does it say?” I perked up, already invested.
“It explains how the sun’s rotations affect the aether density of the realm.” Finding me intrigued, she continued, “You know aether is strictly native to the spirit realm?”
I shook my head. Mum had never explained anything about that. I knew a little about the spirit realm, that it was the land of spirits, fairies, and gods.
“Doesn’t our world have aether too?”
“It does, though in far lower density.” Aunt Emi paused, searching for the right words to explain to a child. “Our world and the spirit realms are connected. Some scholars argue that one is absolute for the other to exist. You see, aether is not native to our realm. Occasionally, ruptures form where the physical and spiritual realms overlap, allowing otherworldly aether to permeate our land. And in doing so, the energy changes form.
“While both come from the same source, pure aether from the spiritual realm is different from the energy you can feel in the air, which, for lack of a better term, is called the essence of the world.”
“Whoa!” I sucked in a deep breath, but Aunt Emi wasn’t finished yet.
“An awakened naturally has a connection to the spirit realm. It is through that connection that they gain aether, which in turn transforms into their essence through the process of Unification.”
Gods, this explained so many questions I hadn’t even begun to ask.
“Now, this is just the least amount of requisite knowledge you need to understand before I explain how the suns affect the energy density of the realm.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
And, as it turned out, she had hardly even scratched the surface. Aunt Emi opened her palm, and two spheres of light formed above it—one large, one far smaller. The smaller one ceased spilling light and swirled slowly around the gleaming orb.
“Consider the smaller one as our world,” she said. “You know the world is a globe, right?”
I nodded, and Aunt Emi sighed, relieved that she wouldn’t need to go on a tangent about why we don’t fall off when we’re on the underside of the globe.
A halo of shimmering mist coalesced around the small sphere. “And this represents the essence. I don’t have to tell you what the large sphere of light is, do I? Now, you see…”
Under her control, the smaller sphere swirled around the larger one, its orbit more oval-shaped than circular. As it moved, the misty light shifted along with it. When the sun shone on one side of the world, it pulled the essence toward that side, leaving the dark side nearly barren. The cycle continued every day, while the rest of the world remained unaware of its importance.
“It’s like the tide and ebb?” I blurted out, my eyes glued to Aunt Emi’s imitation.
“You know how the tide and ebb work?” She cocked her head.
“I…” I mulled over the question and found my understanding lacking. “I’m not sure.”
Aunt Emi, being the good teacher she was, explained everything in great detail, using a live model formed from her essence.
“You two are certainly having fun.” Mum’s voice pulled me out of my stupor.
“I am,” I said. “Aunt Emi knows so much.”
“That she does,” Mum replied.
“It is practically my job,” Aunt Emi said.
Soon, the gate opened, and an elderly man with fair, wrinkled skin and thin grey hair stepped forward. A ceremonial white robe with deep green stripes draped over him, while he himself wore a pleasant smile, as though not at all offended by the rude awakening at this early hour.
He ushered us into the mostly empty sanctuary, which looked far grander and more spacious inside. It could easily hold over a thousand people for a theological function. The early light struggled to fully illuminate the contemporary, artistic decorations, though I glimpsed various figures in the stained-glass paintings—some depicting the Oracle herself, others portraying different deities or legendary figures, like the First Knight, a long-time companion of the Oracle.
Marbled pathways paved our way directly into the main hall. A slight tug pulled me towards our destination, as though the essence within me was calling to it. Unlike the rest of the sanctuary, the main hall brimmed with brilliant light. It wasn’t merely the light constructs. No, the entire tower was carved from clear glass, allowing the sunlight to filter through effortlessly. I could glimpse the bleak sky through the glass, even though it was all black from the outside.
However, what caught my full attention was the reason they had adopted this see-through, marvellous glass. It was the elder tree—several dozen metres tall—standing proud in its full grandeur. Its bark, bone white and shimmering, stretched into many branches, each holding equally lustrous deep crimson leaves. Together, they painted a picture of otherworldly glamour.
But it wasn’t just its appearance. The sheer intensity of its essence tugged at the minuscule force I had managed to unite. I could almost glimpse into it, yet I feared that doing so might blind my senses.
"Much like the suns," Aunt Emi whispered to me, sensing what I was feeling, "Avisidora has a similar effect on essence."
I was entranced, too enthralled, too exhilarated to answer. I had read about Avisidora in books, every known fact about the tree etched in my mind, yet none of it had prepared me for this.
Hesitantly, my green eyes shimmered dimly as I gazed upon it. Hesitant, because I knew what it would do to me. But I couldn't help myself.
A light as intense as the sun struck my Fractal Sight, freezing me in place. Blinding white light stretched into every nook and cranny of the elder tree, and I knew what it was. The tree was alive—far more than any other tree had the capacity to be. It was more alive than any of the people in the chamber at this moment.
Then I heard something. A mild echo of laughter? Or was it the rippling echoes of essence surging through?
My gaze traced the blinding light and found threads of essence coursing through its bark. Yet it was not peaceful, not like how the tree presented itself outwardly. A torrential force gushed through it, drawing in the aether of the realms, its depth seemingly infinite, even though it shouldn’t be.
A tug on my shoulder pulled me out of the vision, and I found my heart restless.
“Breathe,” Mum said. She knelt, rubbing my shoulder to ease me. She hardly needed to say more for me to understand that she was there for me. Not only her. When I looked up, I found Aunt Emi and Father watching me with concern.
“I’m fine,” I said, tearing my eyes away from the tree. This was probably the second time Fractal Sight had activated itself. However, unlike the other time, when it had revealed intricacies without any warning, this time I had felt it coming, and I could have stopped it.
Great, eight more years, and I might just complete the Way of Fractal Sight I.
Mum shot me a look, one that said she wasn’t done with this.
“So, how do we go about this?” Aunt Emi asked the clergyman. “If you can’t tell, we’re all fairly unfamiliar with the ceremony.”
“It’s nothing too complicated,” said the rector with a kind smile. “If you’ve been to the temples of other deities, their ceremonies might have been a bit more extensive. The Church of the Oracle is loosely bound by edicts or traditions, but we do strive to keep our teachings authentic…”
He went into further detail, mostly unnecessary, but it gave the feeling that his religion was for those who did not want to be bogged down by all the rules and traditions. Thankfully, he didn’t delve too deeply into preaching about the religion of the Mistress of Omen. He likely recognised that most of the people here were learned men and women, not particularly devout.
“Beyond the purview of fate and divination,” he continued, “the Lady’s dominion extends to Oaths and Bonds.”
“Most gods do,” Mum muttered under her breath, so only I could hear.
“We simply require you to vow before the Tree of Life. After the pledge is made, you may request documentation, should it ever be required for legal purposes.”
“That simple?” Aunt Emi perked up. The book she had been holding had vanished long ago, and I found myself wondering where she had left it. “Well, let’s begin then.”
As it turned out, we couldn’t begin immediately, as there was an entire order of knights pledged to protect the Tree of Life. At least one had to be present during the ceremony.
So we waited for several minutes. Then, finally, a knight joined us in the chamber, and it was not the figure of nobility and prestige I had imagined. The man was middle-aged, and looked good for his years. Dressed in a simple tunic, he boasted more than just a healthy stomach. A sheathed sword was strapped loosely to his hips, perhaps only there because it was required.
Only a Knight of the Order of Emberleaf was allowed a weapon within the hallowed ground of this chamber.
After settling a few formalities, Aunt Emi and I stood before the Tree of Light. We were only permitted as close as twenty metres to it.
“By the light of the Oracle, Mistress of Omen and Oaths,” she began, “I, Emilyn Amadeus, daughter of Shenaryn Amadeus, and Arcis Silverheart, do swear the sacred vow of godmotherhood, to guard and guide the child of my eldest sister, Arilyn Arcis O’Ryon, through joys and sorrows, victories and defeats.”
[Your vow has been witnessed.]
A voice rang in my mind, catching me off guard. From the look on my aunt’s face, it seemed she had heard it too.
The rector clapped his hands together and ushered us out of the main hall, relieving the knight of his sacred duty. As I crept out, I couldn’t help but glance back at the sacred tree one last time.
Then, finally, just as I was about to cross the entrance, something soft fell upon my head.
A deep crimson leaf, its veins bone white.