The Avatar of the Golden Phoenix soared overhead on wings of fire, racing to the front line against his old rival, the Azure Dragon.  All who trained in the Ethereal Arts had been called to war by the very gods themselves, against a threat none of them could begin to fathom.  Rhys Stalos had borne witness to Artists of every Dawning traveling to their assigned fronts.

His place was in Atheria … playing guard.

He couldn’t help but feel misused, but he was of the First Dawning, the most basic of Ethereal Artists.  Sure, he was at the limits of the rank, inches from the Second Dawning, but that mattered little.  His Ether Core, paramount to the Cultivation process, was damaged in a duel years ago.  No matter how hard he trained, he could never break through with a damaged Core.

“I should be at the Western Blockade,” he muttered, sitting on top of a wooden barrel in the center of town.  The flow of the large fountain provided a soothing sound in the background, settling his agitation.  He should have tried meditating but what was the point?  It wasn’t as if he was going to advance any further.

The Blockade was assigned to the Second Dawnings, a task considered suitable for Artists of that level.  First Dawnings were conscripted to hold the city and keep the people safe. Of course, everyone knew if they saw action, the war was already doomed.  He stared at his ring finger, where Ether Script encircled his finger.  He still remembered the day he got those markings.

Thanks to them, he never forgot anything.

The Ring of Memory, crafted by the goddess Ceres, was a gift from Dyanna.  It was a rare treasure, counted on one hand the number in existence.  Dyanna had given one to the person who funded the expedition, one of him, and one to Astera.  He and his sister slipped the rings on and watched them fade, leaving the markings on their finger that signified the soul-binding.  The ring, and the power of perfect memory it imbued, became a part of them forever.

“I’d rather risk my life in the fight than just sit around here,” he said to Astera.  She looked far more comfortable than he, war not something she ever would have willingly signed up for.  She was a librarian by trade and working at the Lumen Archive for the past four years had been more than satisfying for her.

Sometimes he envied her.  When they left their hometown of Fortem nearly ten years ago, Rhys had all kinds of big dreams for what was out there.  He wanted to reach the Fifth Dawning, find out the secrets of the Regal realm and ascend to a King, maybe even a god.  When that fell apart, he was devastated.  Astera might never have left home if not for the fire, and her big brother pushing her to go to the big city.  Now, she could have done her work at the Archive the rest of her days and called that a meaningful life.

Apprentice blacksmith at the Titan’s Forge wasn’t exactly bottom of the barrel, but it was far from the life Rhys had planned for himself.
This message was last updated by the player at 00:49, Sun 30 May 2021.

Astera, or Tera as Rhys called her, sat near her brother with a book in her lap.  It was pretty typical of her, really.  She didn't know why they had asked her to play part of the guard when they knew she wasn't the most agile or alert of people.  She could truly be her own worst enemy at times.  If it wasn't her tripping over something, it was her near complete lack of confidence.  It was why she had barely made it through the first Dawning and never even really tried to reach the second.  She wasn't like Rhys who had big dreams and aspirations.

It was sad that his dreams had been cut short so soon.  To her, he deserved everything.  He had always looked out for her and encouraged her, even when she fell flat on her face ... metaphorically AND literally.  When everyone else laughed at her, he simply helped her up and told her to keep trying. He was all she had after they lost their parents and she loved him with all her heart.  His voice drew her out of her reverie, not really reading the book but thinking about things over the years.

"I know you would but I'm selfish enough to be glad you aren't in the middle of things," she said quietly.  "I don't think I'll ever understand war.  All it does is tear families apart and destroys land and buildings.  Usually just for one or two people's egos," she added the last with no small amount of disdain.  "Just a big bully pushing everyone else around to make themselves feel even bigger."  She'd endured her fair share of bullies which was precisely why she loved books.  She was quite comfortable in the library where she didn't have to deal with people very much.

"The gods called for this war, Tera.  I don't think they're worried about a cosmic pissing contest," he replied, slipping off the barrel and stretching.  Atheria was the largest city on the continent, more than enough to have the entirety of the First Dawning Artists stationed far enough away from each other to have them out of sight of one another.  Among them, Rhys was probably the strongest.  He couldn't take pride in being the strongest ant in the animal kingdom, however.

“We should have gotten a posting closer to The River’s Edge.  I could go for a drink about now.”  Their favorite watering hole was in the third district while they were stationed at the center of town.  It had already been three days since the war began, with no news coming from any front.  Only the sight of powerful Ethereal Artists, flying overhead, told them that things were still ongoing.  Rhys looked for them, both to gauge how many powerful Artists had gone to the battlefield, but also dreaming of what it must have been like to soar through the clouds.

“Wow,” he whispered, catching the first sight of battle beyond their comprehension.  The horizon lit up with Fire Ether, streams of flame bursting like an aurora, reddening the sky enough to cast the ground at their feet in orange.  Another flash, brighter than the last, lit up over them, sparks falling overhead.

“Did that seem like it was a bit close to — ”

 The next crack tore the top of a building off, sending it plummeting into the street.  Rhys moved with all the speed he could muster, slinging Astera over his shoulder like they were still children.  “Defense!”  His shouts told her what she needed to do; if any more debris fell toward them, she had to make use of her Ether Arts.  Tera’s Sightless Grip let her move things with a gesture of her hand, while SIghtless Push let her shove them away.  Rhys would be her legs, carrying her to safety, but she was the eyes in the back of his head, making sure no walls crumbled down on them.

“The nearest battlefield is twenty miles from here!  How can it be so close?!”   Both siblings knew how powerful Ethereal Artists could be but they’d never seen Ether Arts that caused damage miles away.  They truly knew nothing of what a high-level Artist was capable of.  Just when he thought it safe, when they were far enough from large buildings in an open part of town, Rhys came to a dead stop.

There was a new problem.

He set his twin sister down, unable to find words to prepare her for what she would see when she turned around.  The dead citizens caught in the initial attack had risen, some missing limbs, some already reduced to skeletons.  All of them were turning on the living, multiplying their numbers by slaying those who still had a pulse.

They were already setting eyes on the Stalos twins.

Tera sighed softly, closing the book and tucking it into the satchel slung over her shoulder.  She knew she wasn't going to be able to concentrate because of the sense of wrongness she was feeling.  She didn't know what it was but she looked at her brother.  "Always so eloquent," she teased when he spoke of pissing contests.  She brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear just as the sky turned orange, making her pause in movement and words.

She sat there stunned, shaking her head when he started to say something but when the building nearby exploded she squeaked in horror.  The next thing she knew, she was bouncing along on Rhys' shoulder like a sack of potatoes and she did all she could to push debris away and try to keep them from getting crushed.  She didn't say anything as he tore through the streets, simply gathering the Ether and letting it go here and there.

She did grunt when he suddenly stopped, wondering why he suddenly set her down.  "What's wrong?" she asked in a quiet, shaky voice.  She looked into his eyes that were staring out at something obviously horrible and she felt that burning lump of dread in her stomach as she started to turn around and look where he was looking.  Nothing could have prepared her for this, none of the books or stories.

"Dear Gods ..." she gasped as she saw the carnage.  Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at the dead bodies but then she saw what he had seen.  "Rhys ... Rhys ... we need to go," she whispered in panic and tugged at his arm.  They had to find someplace safe, somewhere these things couldn't get to them.  "Please," she whimpered but wouldn't leave his side.

She was right.  The victims were only becoming more predators.  How many could they possibly save in such a state?  A pair of dead lunged at Rhys, who was quick to defend.

The Iron Blow was one of the few Ether Arts he had learned to use to the fullest.  Ether flowed through his body to his fist, gathering tight in his knuckles as he threw his punch into the chest of the living dead.  He collapsed the chest and, more importantly, transferred the energy of the strike through the first and into the second monster behind him.  With one strike he blew both away, shattering them into bones.

He readied further Iron Blows, using them to carve a path through the street, aided by Astera’s Sightless Push.  Bodies flew in every direction, giving them the means to get beyond the city walls, where fewer dead would swarm them.  “Just keep moving, Tera!  No looking back!”  Looking back wasted time they didn’t have.

Was it like this everywhere?  What about the Western Front?  He had to get there, had to hope she was still —

“No …” His throat tightened as he saw something worse than an army of dead, worse than fire breaking the city around them.  In the distance, darkness was swallowing the earth like a wave.  Everything it touched turned a black so dark, it was like it no longer existed.  In their final moments, Rhys took hold of his sister’s hand, saying a goodbye that his voice no longer could.

“Astera?!  Calm down!”  Whatever panic Tera felt, like waking from a nightmare, the voice she heard attempted to soothe it.  It was a familiar lilt, a soft twang she hadn’t heard since she was eighteen.

Her mother.

“I swear, I don’t know what’s wrong with you kids.  First, your brother acts like he saw a ghost, and now you.”  Maia Stalos looked the same as she did in Astera’s enhanced memory, not a day older than she had been before …

The fire.

She was in her childhood home, a house that had burnt down nearly a decade ago when the local gang destroyed their village.  She was dressed in the clothes of her youth and a quick glance in the mirror showed Astera the face she had seen on the day she had first awakened to the First Dawning.  All the items and clothes she had acquired over the last ten years were gone, all save one.

The tattooed symbols around her finger remained.  The Ring of Memory had come with her, seemingly back in time to the day she first became an Ethereal Artist.

The fear and exhaustion had swept over her as she and Rhys watched the darkness swarm toward them.  They had run and flung Ether all around them, desperate to survive until that black cloud.  She could still feel his hand in her own as she sat up in the bed, sweat making her hair stick to her face and neck.  It had been awful and even with her mother's voice trying to soothe her, she couldn't shake that horrid sensation.

"Momma?" she whispered in confusion.  It couldn't be!  She had been dead for years now.  And yet there she was, standing before her.  With a strangled cry, she bolted up out of the bed and threw her arms around the woman.  She was real and solid and smelled so wonderful!  "Oh Momma ... I love you," she mumbled into the woman's neck as she hugged her tight.  It was the one thing she had wished she could have said before the fire, so that the woman knew just how much she was truly adored.

Maia Stalos blinked in a moment of confusion.  Her daughter had always been affectionate but she was hardly the type to grasp her in such a tight hug anymore.  “I don’t know what got into you two when you awakened but I like it,” she said, a hand on Astera’s back as the two shared a loving embrace.  When finally she was freed, she stepped back to draw open the curtains of Tera’s room, filling it with light.

“Rhys was up at dawn, as usual.  He wanted to stay close today, he said, in case you needed him.”  Whatever familiarity there was, things had slightly deviated.  It had been Winter when she first awakened, six months after Rhys.  Their family was too poor to afford the materials to let the twins both come into their powers at once.  Looking outside that morning, it seemed more like early Autumn.

More than just the season, the house seemed in better shape, and their mother had even gotten herself a new apron.  It was an expense she always denied herself, instead patching her old one until Astera wasn’t sure there was any original material left.  Whatever had happened, the family seemed better off this time, even letting Astera get her first Elixir early.

“I don’t know what your brother has planned for you today but don’t let him push you into anything you aren’t ready for, dear.  Rhys has been possessed for the last two months, even if it has been good for us.  The herbs and materials he has been bringing home … I don’t know where he finds them.”

Astera did.  When she had worked at the Lumen Archive in Atheria, she had found records of various Cultivation materials.  For fun, she had told Rhys just how many things had been within only a few day's travel.  He’d spent the last two months gathering what he could and bringing them home for their mother.  She had used her knowledge to make elixirs and sold them to help the family financially and, as a bonus, being able to spare enough for Astera to reach her first Dawning four months early.

To say Astera was feeling out of sorts would be an understatement but just having her mother so near and able to hold her again was enough to make her just go with it for now.  It was far better than the nightmare she'd awoken from for sure!  "I won't," she promised her mother when advised to not let him push her too far.  The light filled the room and she let out a soft sigh.  "Definitely need to wash up and get some breakfast first," she said as if everything was perfectly normal.

It didn't take long and she was sitting at the table with a plate of scrambled eggs and toast with some coffee full of sugar and cream.  Though outwardly she looked to her mother like normal, internally she was in a whirlwind of questions and doubts.  Maybe Rhys would have some answers for her but she needed to get him away from everyone since she had a feeling the conversation would be one that would make even more questions from people who probably didn't need to know what was going on right then.

"So Rhys being the early bird as usual," she said mostly to herself with a tiny chuckle.  Some things would never change it seemed.  She had the urge to grab a book but there were chores to do first.  A slight pang hit her as she realized she wouldn't be in the library all day and she would likely have to deal with people.  Books didn't call her names or laugh when she tripped over her own two feet.  Books were just there with wonderful stories and could make her feel like she was normal.

Rhys had turned their backyard into his personal training grounds.  The tree they used to play in as children showed signs of being punched hard enough to splinter the trunk.  After that, it had been left alone, used for chin-ups and sit-ups.  Heavy stones had been lashed together with heavy rope, tied around his waist to increase the weight of his lifts.  An old steel drum had been acquired from town, now dented as he attempted to retrain his Iron Blow.

“Muscle memory is a bitch,” Rhys said, gaining the attention of his sister.  He had the same youthful face he had when they lived in Fortem, but he’d already started training his body closer to what he had at twenty-eight, living in Atheria.  More strikingly, he had already obtained his Flawless Eyes, something which originally took him months of work to achieve.  His once blue eyes were a steel gray, symbolic of his ability to now look at things and find their weakness.  It was said that one with Flawless Eyes could take down the largest wall with a single strike, their gaze capable of detecting the structural point of failure.

“Turns out knowing how to use our old techniques isn’t enough.  Our bodies don’t know how to perform the movements, nor are they strong enough.  I can visualize my Iron Blow going perfectly but my motions are off and it hurt like hell the first few attempts.  I’m getting it back, though.”

This had been the last two months of his life, waiting for Astera to wake up as he did.  He trained in the early morning, went on missions to get materials for their family, even did a few shifts at the local blacksmith.  The man had been skeptical of him at first but Rhys soon proved more capable than he, thanks to years working under a true master.

“I got mom some good materials to help you awaken.  We can’t waste any time.”  Waste time for what?  Rhys seemed to be having a conversation with her that she didn’t remember starting.  That was him; assuming she’d go along with whatever he did.

“Tera, we saw the end of the world.  I don’t know how we got back here or why we’re the only ones who remember what happened, but that means we have a chance to do something about it.  We don’t have to be a couple of First Dawns stuck in Atheria ten years from now.  We can … we can do anything!  Think of everything we learned about the last ten years.  Every treasure that was found that hasn’t been found yet, every technique we could use to raise our strength.  We could be Fifth Dawns in ten years.  Hell, we could be Regals if we pushed hard enough!”