Sword Brother

The lighthouse of Kernéval stood like a titan of stone and light, watching over the city like an ageless guardian. Its imposing silhouette pierced the gray sky, towering over the ruined port, the first crown, and its surrounding districts. It was not just a building, it was the beating heart of the luminic Order in these lands.

From its summit, a pure and unwavering radiance burst forth, piercing the darkness like a celestial spear. This light was more than just a guide for lost ships adrift on the turbulent waves. It was a blessing, a salvaging presence that soothed weary souls and reminded travelers of the way home.

During the battle against the monarch, the lighthouse had been a bastion, a fortress against corruption. Its lutech cannon had defied the monstrous entity, though it had not managed to bring it down. Even so, it had never faltered, standing firm against the forces of Umbra with the sheer tenacity that defined Kernéval.

Gaël and Kaëlan, along with about twenty others their age, were led into the lighthouse's depths by Guardians of the Radiance, draped in white robes.

Their procession moved slowly, two by two, as the flickering torchlight cast shifting shadows against the stone walls.

The spiral staircase descended into the lighthouse's depths, a dizzying coil of stone worn smooth by the passage of time. Each step echoed beneath their feet, carrying a symbolic weight: the transition from one world to another, the passage from a life left behind to an unknown future.

Kaëlan broke the silence in a hushed voice.

"Feels strange to be leaving home… I'm gonna miss our little adventures."

Gaël gave a faint smile but didn't turn his head.

"You? Miss our adventures? You never stopped complaining."

Kaëlan rolled his eyes.

"That was for show! If I didn't complain, you'd have taken it as a challenge to drag us into even more dangerous places." He shook his head, chuckling softly. "But between that and sitting through Old Maëlig Pennwenn's endless lectures on the emergence and structuring of the great city-states…"

He let out a theatrical sigh before stiffening into an exaggeratedly rigid posture, imitating their elderly teacher in a pinched, severe voice:

"'Ignorant youth! You must understand that the fall of the fragments and the birth of the city-states are not mere anecdotes, but the very foundation of our civilization!'"

This time, Gaël couldn't suppress a stifled laugh. He nudged Kaëlan lightly.

"I completely agree with you, but keep it down. The radiance keepers asked for silence, and they don't look particularly forgiving."

Kaëlan cast a glance at the silent figures walking ahead of them, their white robes drifting through the damp underground passage.

"Hmm… Fair point."

Gaël's smile slowly faded as they continued their descent. The humor drifted away, just as surely as the daylight they left behind.

He felt his breath grow shorter as he descended, his heartbeat echoing in sync with the reverberation of their footsteps. Each step carved into the stone seemed to remind him of his decision. An irreversible choice.

At the end of the descent, they emerged into a vast oval chamber.

A technological sanctuary.

At its center, an enormous Lutech portal, encircled by copper and silver, pulsed softly with a golden light. Its engraved runes shimmered intermittently, like luminic veins feeding an artificial heart. It was a masterpiece of engineering, a gateway to the unknown.

To the side, several engineers in work uniforms moved swiftly over terminals etched with complex symbols. Their fingers glided across the controls with surgical precision, adjusting the parameters of the journey. Gaël understood none of their coded language, but he could sense the weight of their task.

A few steps from the portal, a commanding figure awaited them.

The reverend, a middle-aged man with a piercing gaze, stood tall and unyielding, draped in a ceremonial robe embroidered with gold. His features bore the marks of years spent in devotion and battles against the Umbra.

With a deep, firm voice, he addressed them in a final speech.

"You stand at the dawn of a new path. Where you are going, only discipline and perseverance will forge your future. The Golden Tree academy does not welcome the uncertain. Only those who fully embrace duty and effort will find their place within it."

His words settled in the minds of each listener.

Beside him, a woman of rare presence observed them with a warm smile.

She was undeniably beautiful, but it was not her grace that struck first, it was her aura. A presence that commanded both admiration and respect.

'An Ardent of the Sun, like the reverend!' Gaël guessed.

Her eyes, with irises golden like autumn leaves, gleamed with sharp intelligence and unwavering confidence.

When the reverend finished speaking, he turned slightly toward her before gesturing with measured respect.

"Professor Délviane."

A murmur rippled through the group. The name was not unfamiliar.

Cassandre Délviane, a renowned ardent of the sun, wielding both steel and Lumen with equal mastery.

She was a living legend.

A former captain of the Golden Blades, an elite force that once protected the High Cities, the religious and political heart of the Luminic Order, she had relinquished her rank to join the academy of the Golden Tree, where she now trained new generations in the arts of combat and lutech weaponry.

It was said she had once faced an entire horde of • Hollowborns alone and emerged unscathed. Some claimed her blade had never known the rust of time, that its brilliance was dulled only by the blood of the creatures she cut down.

Yet, in this moment, she had nothing of a brutal warrior.

She stood tall, clad in a refined combat tunic, dark fabric woven seamlessly with light metallic plates, fitted to her slender yet athletic frame.

Her deep brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, revealing a delicate neckline marked by a thin scar.

When she spoke, her voice was clear, steady, laced with a natural authority.

"I see hesitant gazes. That's good. Doubt means you're still thinking, and it's better to question now than on the battlefield."

Her gaze swept across the group.

"Some of you know why you're here. Others, perhaps not yet. But what you must understand is that the academy does not shape soldiers. It forges warriors, strategists, survivors."

She took a few steps toward them, her boots echoing against the polished stone floor.

"The academy of the Golden Tree will not hold your hand. It will break you, test you, and only those who rise again, again, and again will leave stronger."

A shiver ran down Gaël's spine. His eyes briefly met Kaëlan's, who had pressed his lips together in a thin line. They both knew now, the training would be far harder than they had imagined.

But something stirred within him.

A fire, a promise, the sharp edge of his resolve.

I will not fail!

She stepped back and turned toward the Lutech portal. The engravings flared brighter, a sign that the passage was ready.

With a smooth motion, she gestured toward it.

"Two at a time. Kaëlan Morr and Gaël Ardyn. Step forward."

Kaëlan shot Gaël a look, a flicker of apprehension in his eyes. He forced a casual smile, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his unease.

"Well… guess we'll find out if we don't come out the other side as a pile of ash, huh?" he murmured with forced humor.

"Enter. And leave Kernéval behind," the woman commanded.

Gaël took a deep breath and, without a final glance back, stepped toward the light.

'Mama, Aedan… I'm going.'

One step forward.

The next instant was chaos.

Light engulfed him like a burning tide, tearing him away from reality. His body felt stretched, compressed, flung through an infinity of overlapping spaces. Sounds twisted around him, distorted, incoherent. Fragments of voices, echoes of muffled cries, whispers that came from everywhere and nowhere at once.

He stumbled, his senses scrambled by the warping of the journey.

Then, suddenly, everything stopped.

A second step brought him back to stability, but the impact was so abrupt that he nearly lost his balance again, his legs buckling slightly before he steadied himself.

The ground beneath him was cold and solid, the air different, drier, purer, carrying a faint scent of old parchment and stone.

He lifted his gaze… and his breath caught.

The hall they had emerged into surpassed anything Gaël had ever seen.

It was vast, colossal, even.

The ceiling, a high-vaulted masterpiece of carved stone, seemed to defy gravity, supported by towering white columns etched with glowing runes. The very walls pulsed with an ancient energy, their surfaces alive with symbols he could not yet understand.

The atmosphere thrummed with a solemn silence, barely disturbed by the faint hum of the portal behind him.

Gaël wasn't the only one left in awe.

Around him, the other recruits struggled to regain their senses, still dazed from the journey. Beside him, Kaëlan ran a nervous hand through his dark hair, his gaze sweeping across the vast hall.

"Shit… We're really somewhere else," he murmured.

Gaël nodded, unable to put into words what he was feeling.