An Eldritch Legacy: Sin & Sacrilege

Years had long passed since the events that painted the heavens crimson. Time, like an avalanche, buried the past, and life seemed to return to normal for those untouched by those tragedies. In the Empire of Light and Flame, it was as if those events had never happened.

But only those who carried the pain within knew the truth—something was waiting to erupt.

And erupt it did...

The emperor, once a beacon of majesty and power, had changed little in appearance. Yet, his coldness was something no one had foreseen. He did not mistreat his people—his duty always stood above his own desires. But should one dare to touch anything unrelated to the empire, they would find death a mercy.

He had married another. She was crowned empress, yet even the people saw her for what she was—a mere replacement. And so, within the privacy of their homes, they treated her as such; no real loyalty was accorded to the woman whom the emperor himself never addressed directly.

But the emperor himself did not care whether the people were able to glean much from it or not, not unless it affected the empire as a whole. And even then...

They had children—two, in fact. The crown prince and, more recently, a royal princess. Yet, they might as well have been strangers to their own father, for he had never once looked at them. Never allowed them to call him father, as he made it a decree. Cold and brutal, the only time he had set his eyes on them was the time he was required by divine law to attend their birth for his intent to bring them into the world, and most times they would have died right there within the woman's womb, but he would always pull back at the last second.

Such was the life of the royal family; they might as well have been strangers forced by law to share a roof above their heads.

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Today, the Empire of Flame and Light held an awakening ceremony for the crown prince, heir to the Throne of Light and Flame. It was a joyous occasion, and all beings in the realm were obliged to attend, if only from beyond the palace walls; even back then, Awakening Ceremonies were things held at the heart by all families. Tributes were to be given in honor of the prince's awakening.

Dignitaries dressed in gold and amber filled the grand central court, a sacred space often used for ancestral worship and the veneration of gods.

They stood beyond the opaque reality that separated them from the main event, hidden away from all others apart from the direct family.

At the heart of this court lay a pool of liquid light—its glow so fervent that the very surroundings dimmed in reverence.

In the center of this pool stood a tree, barely half a foot tall, yet mesmerizing beyond words.

Carved from gold so pale it resembled ivory, its smooth surface bore no trace of metal's harsh gleam but instead mimicked the gentle texture of bark. Its leaves, crafted from dazzling rubies, shimmered like embers.

The roots of this tiny marvel stretched across the pool, claiming dominion over it. An invisible breeze stirred its crystalline leaves, sending forth a sonorous chime—mystical and soothing, crackling like godsparks...it was enchantingly divine.

Beneath this sacred splendor, a lone figure knelt, humbled before the tree.

His knees sank into the radiant liquid, which would have incinerated lesser beings, yet he remained unmoved, as though immune to its wrath.

The liquid would caress his skin in a show of curiosity, like a child wondering where the familiarity within came from.

He was breathtakingly handsome—to a terrifying degree. His features were sharp and unforgettable, softened only by traces of his mother's lineage. His resemblance to her was uncanny, save for a few distinct traits inherited from his father.

Like the emperor, he possessed hair of white and gold, tied into a swift ponytail that did nothing to diminish his beauty. His eyes—an intense shade of gold laced with the barest touch of emerald—were the only clear sign of his paternal heritage. Unlike his father's towering presence, he was slender and lithe, his aura that of a cool flame, lacking the emperor's overwhelming majesty.

Today was his day—his awakening. And yet, no joy filled his heart.

For the emperor had not come to witness his son's ascension.

His heart twisted with turmoil. When will I be worthy of your gaze, Father?

His gaze flickered to the throne beyond the pool. Of the two seats, only one was occupied. The most important one—his father's throne—remained empty.

Seated upon the other throne, carved from regal jade—a material meant as an insult to his mother—was the empress.

He looked at her, but no love stirred in his heart. Only hate.

You are the reason he despises me, Mother. How I wish I had never been born from your womb.

Yet, when he met her emerald eyes, he found no pain, no sorrow. No motherly grief at her son's hatred. Only twisted pride and cold ambition gleamed in their depths.

She did not flinch at the mockery of the throne she sat upon; no, she seemed to relish it, as though declaring to the world what she had conquered.

Her eyes, calculating and devoid of warmth, held nothing but arrogance. Even the son who allowed her to keep her place upon that throne was nothing more than a tool in her eyes.

The only flicker of emotion she betrayed was when she glanced at the empty throne beside her. In those fleeting moments, something darker stirred within her gaze—something Enenel could not yet understand. And then, it was gone, vanishing like the wind.

He was Enenel, the First of Light and Emerald. The bearer of the blood of emerald and flame. The crown prince of the Empire of Light and Fire.

Enenel of Emerald—the jaded light. godss...!! How does someone carry such a name around? Do these ancient people have no shame? All that cringe carried on one's spine must be quite heavy....

His mother, Losys Emerald, was the reigning empress. Her hair, a luminous emerald green, shimmered with both a soft radiance and the harsh brilliance of their realm. Her eyes were deep, cold emeralds—sharp yet hazy, intense yet distant.

She was beautiful, but not with the fragility of soft, gentle beauty. Hers was a sharp, cutting allure, softened only by her femininity.

A jade-green, droplet-shaped mark adorned the center of her forehead, accentuating her otherworldly beauty. Her smile was a constant presence, never widening, never fading—fixed in place like an eternal mask.

Her hands were as fair as white lotus petals, and her petite frame only added to her deceptive charm.

But Enenel knew the truth.

Beneath her flawless exterior lurked an emerald snake—venomous to the core, ruthless beyond measure, spineless yet envious. Pride ran through her veins deeper than any river, and her sense of superiority crowned her in self-proclaimed glory.

He had never seen someone wear the dark sins with so much splendor...

He harbored no love for this woman who called herself his mother. And yet, he dared not reveal his disdain—for the consequences would be dire.

As the sacred chanting began, Enenel buried his dissatisfaction, focusing instead on the task before him.

A priest dressed in robes of gold was the only other being within the obscured reality; his form was hidden beneath an intense light that radiated from his skin to his hair. His features were long lost to history and time. Having served as the royal priest of the Imperial family of the Empire of Flame and Light for who knows how long. Even Reagan, the current emperor, did not know who stood beneath the holy light...

The aether surged through his veins, stirring his dormant legacy awake.

A golden cyclone erupted around him, its radiance so blinding that even those beyond the veil of obscured reality could see its radiance, but none dared to look directly at it. Those who foolishly attempted to witness the divine spectacle had their eyes burned away, their blood evaporating, their lips exhaling soot-stained breaths.

But none acknowledged their suffering.

For who in their right mind would dare gaze upon the might of the gods? That was sacrilege!

None saw the occultic transformation taking place within the boy at the heart of the flames.

Divine scripture seared itself into his skin, tongues of fire licking across his body with perverse intensity, branding him from within. His very bones corroded under the might of the flames, his eyes turning into molten rubies, as though fire itself stared out from his soul.

His organs burned to ash, only to be forced into rebirth, the cycle repeating in an agonizing loop. His blood was no longer blood—it had become liquid light and roaring flame.

He wanted to scream. But the flames denied him that mercy.

Subdued, he endured. And pain—pain like never before—etched itself into his soul, a memory he would never forget.

His form quivered, swelling and contracting as though undergoing some great transformation. Yet, beneath the blinding radiance, nothing could be seen.

And I would not dare spoil the fun for you…

Enenel wanted to quit, to surrender to the agony. Yet, he dared not bring shame upon his mother. So he endured, trembling, yet never making a sound.

Then, his consciousness faded, and he slipped into his own subconscious.

Before him stood a towering gate, its two massive doors unlike any he had ever seen. Each one different from the last to such an astonishing degree, he felt he could feel their clashes echo beyond the veil of their reality.

His legacy had awakened.

And yet…

Why did it feel as if two legacies had been bound together? Forced and fused forcefully

A double awakening?

No, that could not be…

Could it?