Odyssey of the Guardian Emperor

The streets were illuminated with lanterns and torches, sparsely littered with people walking about or peeking out of their houses to gaze at the new arrivals. Most of their faces were filled with a mix of shock, awe and untold curiosity. Their hair was white and golden, just like Kair'ak's— like the glorious patterns of their bicoloured feathers.

From the sparse titanic trees surrounding the city, colossal nests dangled off the branches and stems with blue gems shimmering inside of them, perhaps built into the trees as reminders of the world outside.

Majestic as these nests and trees were, Alaric was stunned by one other sight. A pagoda caught high in the sky, too far for his eyes to discern details, with lightning flashing in the storm clouds above it. The storm rumbled high above them, constantly pulling at the pagoda with chaotic power. Chains shot off the pagoda and fell down to the ground, piercing into it and anchoring the great building to the ground. Every now and then, the pagoda shuddered and the chains clinked, resisting the power of the storm high above.

"A pocket dimension," LionHeart breathed.

"A very big one," Alaric responded.

This city didn't just exist in a pocket dimension. It thrived within it, exceeding anything Alaric could have imagined inside a pocket dimension. Fields grew beyond the city, ripe with produce, while great trees grew all around. A massive amphitheatre stood in the middle of the city of cobblestone houses, while a large temple-like building overlooked the city to the East, raised on a small hill.

A gentle stream crawled down the Southern part of it, giving off a familiar shimmer, 'The Shimmering Creek. How?' Alaric wondered. It made no sense for a river to cross dimensions, and yet, that's just how peculiar magic was meant to be.

A silence echoed back, where he expected his guardian's response, tanking his excitement in an instant. 'She would have liked to see this,' he thought to himself.

[ Is that river familiar? ] Sabre asked him suddenly.

[ You don't know the Shimmering Creek? ] he furrowed his brows.

[ I'm not always watching you like Alia used to. ] The guardian answered, [ You can call on me any time, but seeing as you're not doing that, I'll check on you from time to time. ]

"I wonder why they didn't tell us about this place the last time we were here," LionHeart interrupted Alaric's conversation with his guardian.

"The blonde slayer made the situation complicated," Kair'ak answered from their right, "While Alaric was only wary of him at the time, the High Sentinel took action to limit the damage he could cause."

"Smart." LionHeart nodded.

The Eagles flew above the city and landed in the courtyard of the temple-like building Alaric had seen built overlooking the whole city. A statue stood in the centre of the courtyard, detailing a beautiful woman entirely made out of gold. A pair of golden wings shot out from her back and curled around her frame, while threads flew out of her hands to coil around a golden ball of yarn.

Behind the statue, Alaric saw the temple. It rose higher than the Sisters of Fragrance had with pillars lining the bottom floor. Each floor had a ceiling far higher than Alaric thought necessary, exaggerating the building's size even more.

"You came," a voice suddenly spoke up, "The Stone Gate demiplane welcomes you, Great Protector… and friends of the Great Protector."

Alaric looked up from Aslan to see an old man with golden hair and a glimmering white and gold beard flowing down to his waist. He approached them, clad in silky robes that swept the ground. At this point, the pattern of white and gold in his robes was no surprise. If anything, it was to be expected.

The man's presence was an overwhelming force Alaric could never forget. While his voice was warmer than before, it still bore the same firmness of a powerful leader. "You need not wear those Face Masks while you are here." He spoke again.

Alaric took the Face Mask off, as did LionHeart, before dismounting the lion. He walked up to the old man and bowed, heat rising to his cheeks. The High Sentinel was a force to be reckoned with in his Eagle form, and yet right now, he looked far more intimidating. Perhaps even more than Elder Gregory, "Thank you for having us, High Sentinel. You look… grand."

"Grand? Like a King?" the High Sentinel wondered in a light-hearted tone.

"I doubt a king would wear golden robes on a normal day," Alaric chuckled. Now that he was closer to the man, he noticed how his face lacked wrinkles, yet still looked old at the same time. A jagged scar stretched across his eye, and when Alaric stood in his presence, he was overtaken by a familiar feeling of calm. The same way he'd felt around Master Jill and Master Jack, "You look young, yet I can tell you're old."

"I don't know what to make of that," the man chuckled, "Might you introduce me to your friends? I see a new face."

Alaric turned to see a timid boy standing behind a man desperately trying to shake him off. Troy was holding onto Grun'am's sleeve with a vice-like grip, taking in his surroundings with curious, yet timid eyes. "Ah, yes. Meet Troy. He's an aspiring Alchemist."

"Your Highness, I sent word of Alaric's condition," Kair'ak pitched, "This child was the reason behind the mission to acquire the Storm Orbs."

"The one who wishes to refine a Stone Pill for the Protector," the High Sentinel concluded. Alaric smiled, curiosity biting at the back of his mind. The old man noticed and turned to him, "Your aether is too potent for a Wood Rank. I could tell from the Shield spell that nearly broke the gate to our demiplane. That was quite the entrance."

……………………

Alaric's heart skipped a beat. 'Shield spell? Broke the gate?' He vaguely remembered the sound of thunder splitting the heavens during their entrance. His eyes had been closed, but at the time, he'd thought it had something to do with the storm. Now, however, he suspected there shouldn't have been any turbulence during their entry.

"I'm… sorry about that."

"No need," the man answered, "It's not every day you dive straight into a storm wall."

"Is that Storm an illusion?" the boy had to ask.

"No, but there are places where its power is diminished," the old man answered, turning to the rest of the travelling crew, "Let me see if I remember all of you from our last time together. The big man has a lion's heart."

"No… That's…" LionHeart rubbed the back of his head and grimaced, "The name is LionHeart."

"Oh!" the High Sentinel's eyebrows shot up, "I thought… Well, that's a rather peculiar name then. My apologies. The red-haired maiden's name is Scarlett, and the silver-haired damsel is Lucy."

"Lucy bears the power of Total Concealment," Kair'ak informed.

"From the Constellation of Revelation?" The man's eyes went wide.

"She's a Holy Maiden with a power belonging to Delphi," Grun'am joined in, "A mystery perhaps even greater than our Great Protector."

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"A curious one indeed," the High Sentinel came up close to the girl, "Is that your Inborn Ability? We, Heaven-Crested Eagles, aren't born with those. Just power over the wind."

Lucy took a step back, her face red with embarrassment, right before vanishing right in front of everyone. The High Sentinel blinked, "A power that affects even one's memories. Are you still in front of me, girl?"

Lucy reappeared, "You're not affected?"

"I'm a saint, girl. You'll have to get stronger for that power to work on me," the man answered with a chuckle, "Though I must say it's truly fascinating. How does it work?"

"I'm not… sure," the girl responded in a small voice.

As the group launched into a small conversation, Alaric drifted, allowing his eyes to wander across the new city. He would be lying to say he wasn't stunned by the Stone Gate demiplane.

'Scarlett told me about pockets of space warped through various techniques and spells to contain life within them, but this is insane.' The boy mused.

In the distance, he could see children chasing each other around, their laughter ringing through his ears. Their golden eyes made it obvious that the dark meant nothing while they played. Not far, an older lady chased them down, possibly hoping to get them back inside and off to bed. It seemed their chaotic entrance had indeed woken up the city.

Further away, Alaric caught sight of a woman knitting shining golden thread on her balcony. Her chair was made of fine cloth stretched taut about a brilliant hardwood frame. It almost felt like she'd taken luxury to a whole other level. Alaric knew this silky material well, but seeing this much of it within the demiplane seemed to break his perspective. Not only was the fabric resistant to violent wind magic, but it was also as soft as down feathers, and yet, it was everywhere within the demiplane. The High Sentinel wore it, the knitting woman wore it, and so did the rowdy children.

Even further, the great amphitheatre roared to life, the howling sound of boisterous supporters reaching Alaric's sensitive ears. There was a fight going on, and spirits were running high.

High up in the gigantic trees bordering the city, nests hung low, some illuminated with soft amber glows coming from the inside, swinging gently in the wind. Alaric lingered on one of them, a nest slowly turning to reveal its entrance. A second later, Alaric's face turned red as he caught a glimpse of a man and woman kissing. His eyes darted to the ground just as a deep chuckle echoed behind him.

"Those… are a reminder of where we came from. Plus, they are oddly comfortable," the High Sentinel's voice echoed into Alaric's ear. "However, many also refer to them as Love Nests. Be wary of the intentions of any who would take you up there."

Alaric nodded stiffly and cleared his throat, "Umm… Your city is beautiful."

"Thank you," the High Sentinel responded, "We took centuries to get where we are today." To everyone, the High Sentinel gestured, "Come. You must all be tired from the long journey. You'll get a tour of the demiplane in the morning. For now, let me show you to your rooms."

He led the group to the towering temple-like structure. Pillars rose to the unnecessarily high ceiling, running along the outside of the temple, rarely on the inside. They were only on the ground floor, but Alaric already felt so far out of place. The ground was so clean he felt the dirt left behind by his shoes was a crime.

With a ceiling more than twice as high as Alaric was tall, it was easy to feel small. It did, however, increase the number of steps they had to climb up the stairs.

"Is this a temple?" Alaric asked after having noticed several inconsistencies with the temples he'd been in, which, for him, was just the Purification Tower in Melbourne.

"We call it the Pantheon. And while it is indeed a temple, it doubles as a luxury suite for very special guests."

Alaric furrowed his eyebrows, going a whole minute before he spoke again, "I'm sorry. That doesn't make sense."

"How so?" the old man replied calmly.

"Who turns a Constellation's temple into an inn?" Alaric wondered.

"Someone who has been ordered by the Constellation to do it. Haven't you seen priests and Holy Maidens living in Temples of Libra?" the old man contested.

Alaric bit his lip in thought, "Well, yeah, but those are priests and Holy Maidens. They are literally blessed by Libra. They are the only ones with access to Holy Magic."

A grin bloomed on the High Sentinel's face, "You've only made my point."

Alaric looked around. Lucy remained silent at the back, "There's only one Holy Maiden among us. Will she stay here while the rest of us go somewhere else?"

"You were getting closer to the answer, and now you've ruined it," the High Sentinel sighed, "Look around you! Do you see any statues holding scales in here?"

Alaric paid more attention to his surroundings. All about the temple's interior, he noticed next to no paintings or objects to symbolise which Constellation this temple honoured.

He almost gave up until something caught his eye. Lost in the haze of the somewhat rough and misty walls, he saw the image of a woman seated behind a crystal ball, her eyes sealed shut in eternal focus.

It was a hard image to see, considering the wall was purposefully made rough and misty to hide the image in a haze. Knowing what to expect, however, Alaric started seeing this image everywhere, hidden underneath the guise of aging walls. These walls weren't ageing, though.

"Delphi." He gasped.

"The Constellation of Knowledge and Revelation," the High Sentinel confirmed, "You're not so clueless after all."

"My guardian made sure I knew each guardian by name, character in the Old Tongue and symbolism," Alaric responded, "But that takes Lucy out of the picture? What special guest could there be for the Constellation Delphi? I didn't even know there were temples dedicated to the other Constellations."

"Well, the Thirteen Constellations all serve different purposes and because of that, their temples exist in places where their power is wanted the most," the High Sentinel explained, then turned back slightly, "Kair'ak, Grun'am, be sure to visit the Gizzard Ward about your pellets. You mustn't risk any complications."

"Yes, sir," the demihumans answered in sync.

Alaric noted how just some of his questions had gone answered. He still didn't know who amongst them was favoured by the Constellation of Knowledge. It wasn't long before the group was brought to a line of doors. One by one, the members of Alaric's party were assigned rooms on what Alaric counted to be the third floor of the temple. 'What kind of temple would be this big?' he thought to himself.

LionHeart was the last to be given a room before Alaric turned to the High Sentinel with a curious look. The rooms were all almost identical, but the fact that Alaric was still the only one without a room made him nervous.

There were two more rooms before the stairs, but the High Sentinel didn't look interested in them. Instead, the old man led Alaric to the stairs leading to the fifth floor and announced that he would proceed alone with Alaric. His friends stayed behind to get settled in while Alaric went on.

On the top floor, the boy's heart skipped a beat, 'More preferential treatment, huh.'

Not only was it top floor but it also had just one room, closed off by a set of large double doors that stood twice as tall as Alaric.

"Is there something else you wish to discuss?" he asked the High Sentinel, curious about what was happening.

"Not today," the man answered, "Are you always this modest, Protector?" This was the same treatment he'd received at the Tower of Seekers and in Jack's Fall.

Alaric stopped following the High Sentinel and approached the parapets, leaning into the cool, gentle breeze. Out there, he saw a city bursting with life, devoid of strife or suffering. It was a sight that brought a smile to his face, even now when he didn't want to smile at all.

"Alaric?"

"What was your relationship with Soren?" The boy's voice took on a heavy tone, partly mocking in its weight, "I know now that he was my past life—the revered Guardian Emperor."

The old man standing behind him let out a heavy breath, and his shoulders slumped. "What are you hoping to hear? That he was a noble man, kind and gentle, just and loved, powerful and indomitable." Alaric turned to hold the old man's gaze. The tension was palpable before a small smile broke his concerned, wrinkle-free face, "Yes, he was all those things… and more. At least, that's what he was to me."

"Was he always those things?" Alaric asked, "He sounds like the kind of man you only find in fantasies."

"That's because you don't see the big picture," the High Sentinel answered, "Those qualities alone did not define Soren. While he was many great things, he was also stubborn, lazy, unreasonably curious, too nice, naive most of the time and denser than a brick when it came to girls."

Alaric burst out in laughter, "You're badmouthing him now?"

"Why not?" the man threw his hands up, "I had to sit him down time and time again just to remind him of the basics, and don't get me started on the number of times he dragged us into battles we could not win. Much like the one you went running into back in Melbourne."

Alaric swallowed, and his heart sank.

Sabre and Alia had helped him get back up, but he'd be lying if he said he was over that disaster: "I lost that battle."

"And yet you are far stronger than the boy who went running to his death," the High Sentinel chuckled. His voice was grave and heavy, "What doesn't kill you, often, makes you stronger… and you, my friend, are much stronger than you realise."

Alaric held his gaze. Golden eyes peered right back at him. Before, he'd addressed this man in his eagle form, large and terrifying, and yet, as he stared into his eyes now, he saw no difference between the man and the eagle. Both of them had strong, terrifying golden eyes.

"I'm not getting the answer to that question, am I?" Alaric responded.

"The journey is more important than the destination," the man responded, "If I just told you what Soren was to me, you'd take it for what it was, but if I showed you bit by bit every day, then perhaps you'd stand a chance of understanding."

Alaric nodded and the man turned around, continuing on their journey, "The room I'm offering you is not some kind of hospitality to make you feel welcome."

"It's not?" Alaric asked, catching up to the man.

"No, it has always belonged to you," the High Sentinel answered, pushing open the large doors to reveal what could only be described as a crime of luxury.