Beneath the hypogeum lay a third level, hidden deep within. There rested the Aelvorans' best-kept secret: the adytum.
It was a vast, shimmering pond. Its water radiated a golden glow, as if the aether had melted into a liquid body of pure energy. Its beauty was hypnotic… but lethal. Falling into it was tantamount to death; the concentrated energy would infiltrate any living organism until it exploded. Literally.
Circular platforms rose above the water at the chamber's center. A bridge led to the outer ring encircling the central platform. From there, it branched into two paths that connected to the main base. The entire structure was framed by wide columns arranged in a semicircle. The alabaster walls and pillars were covered in white roots and thick ivy that climbed toward the surface.
At the heart of the space rested a gigantic pink lotus flower in full splendor. Its roots clung to the stone like tentacles, slithering along the edges before vanishing into the pond's depths. Sometimes, they moved as if alive.
A stream of light fell from the grand dome above, where a glowing orb bathed everything in a warm radiance. Despite being underground, the air was fresh and pure, carrying the damp scent of a spring forest. An ethereal mist floated in the air, as if stardust hovered over the adytum.
At the beginning of the bridge, a circle etched with patterns like those on the chapel's altar began to glow. The tiles shifted like pieces of a living puzzle, fitting together to form a new, glittering pattern.
Elyraen emerged over the circle just as the light faded. She hurried across the bridge, her stride firm—she knew this path by heart. Relief flooded her when she saw the person she'd been desperately searching for on the other side.
"Father!" she called, not slowing down. "Do you know what's happening to the Enedinas?"
Lorcan Aelvoran, a middle-aged man with whitish-green hair, stood atop one of the bridges. He wore a white toga fastened at the neck and a green cloak—the shade reserved for Hathor's royalty.
"No. I've never seen them react like this," he admitted bluntly, frowning with concern. "Stay back. Don't come closer."
To the outside world, the wisteria tree was the only Enedina Hathor guarded. But the Aelvorans knew the truth: there were two of them. And never in their history had either of them reacted this way. The lotus flower, in particular, had never bloomed— until now.
The pond swirled violently, splashing around them. Veins of light danced within it like restless snakes, and the golden halo it gave off pulsed intermittently, like a living heart.
Lorcan stepped forward, raising his bloodied hand over the roots. The same white emblem Elyraen bore glowed on the back of his hand, both marks reacting to the Enedina. Then a root jerked, whipping his hand away.
Elyraen's eyes widened in horror. Since Hathor's founding, the lotus had never rejected Aelvoran blood. The Great Rhig was at a loss as to how to handle the situation. Neither he nor his ancestors had ever faced such a thing.
He tried again, but this time the roots struck harder. Father and daughter barely dodged the attack and retreated to safety.
"Do you think Kaelior and the others…" Elyraen trailed off, nervously.
Lorcan let out a heavy sigh and stood in front of her. His head throbbed as thoughts of his second son flooded back—Kaelior, who had defied him and fled into the Milbong Rainforest.
The past few weeks had been hell. The temple demanded answers about the Apostle's disappearance. The Great Erna had tried to cover it up, but witnesses claimed to have seen Kaelior with her just before she vanished.
And now this. The Enedines' turmoil couldn't be a coincidence.
The odds were too high to ignore.
Unable to approach or abandon the adytum until they understood what was causing such erratic behavior, they had no choice but to wait. In the worst-case scenario, Lorcan knew he would have to stay behind and send his daughter to coordinate the evacuation with the army marshal.
The lotus petals kept unfolding until they were in full bloom. Lorcan and Elyraen stepped back to the edge of the bridge, nerves stretched taut with anticipation.
Silence fell, thick and absolute, as if the world held its breath.
Elyraen opened her mouth to speak, but the ground shook violently once more.
The golden water swirled, and roots burst from the depths with fury, lashing out at everything in their path. Lorcan tried to summon his power, but it was useless. The aether was out of control, and nature refused to cooperate with him.
Without hesitation, he hoisted her onto his shoulder and ran for the exit. Elyraen steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder, her mind still clouded. If it hadn't been for her father, she would've been struck by the roots and fallen into the pond.
And that death would've been anything but pleasant.
A gut-wrenching crack shook the entire palace. The marble walls vibrated, shedding clouds of dust. Energy engulfed everything with the force of a storm, and a deep hum, like an agonizing wail, echoed through the underground crypt.
"Hold on tight!" Lorcan shouted, leaping onto the pattern that served as the crypt's entrance. He tried to activate it with his blood, but it didn't react. "Damn it!"
Lorcan turned instinctively, giving his back to the Enedina and shielding his daughter with his body. Meanwhile, with his free hand, he wrestled with the door leading to the chapel. Elyraen, on the other hand, strained her eyes, focusing on what was happening in the distance.
From the center of the lotus flower rose a small golden orb, surrounded by tiny shimmering particles. Water began to lift, drawn toward the orb like bees to flower pollen, merging with it and making it grow.
"What is that?" Elyraen whispered, unable to look away.
Lorcan released the door and turned around, his gaze fixed on what was happening behind him. The aether sphere began to contract and warp, forming a silhouette.
"Is that... a person?" Lorcan murmured, astonished.
The crystalline figure floated in a fetal position above the flower. Its long hair trailed behind like a liquid trail. It had a female, humanoid body but wasn't entirely human. It was translucent, barely tangible—more a manifestation than a physical being.
Then, a halo of pure aether burst from it and spread throughout the room. The roots retracted. The water calmed. But the air thickened, almost suffocating.
Both felt the crushing pressure trying to subdue them. Elyraen staggered, certain she would have collapsed if her father hadn't protected her with his own aether. Even Lorcan wasn't doing well; large drops of sweat ran down his face and neck. Seeing him like that was unthinkable. He was the Great Rhig. One of the most powerful elementalists in the kingdom.
The entity descended onto the flower without touching it. Then it moved its head from side to side, as if searching for something, and raised its arm in one direction. Its movements were slow, almost hypnotic. Then it dissolved into particles of light that rose through the dome and vanished. It was as if it had never been there.
The shaking stopped, and silence returned. Elyraen remained still, skin prickling, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest. Finally, the pressure lifted. Both inhaled deeply, as if just surfacing from deep water. Only then did they realize they were soaked in sweat, exhausted, and barely understanding what had just happened.
"What... that...?" she stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.
Lorcan seemed bewildered, his eyes fixed on the empty space where the entity had been, but he was the first to pull himself together.
"Dikke's going to have a field day with this," he said, voice flat like he'd just scored himself another blessed headache.
Unbeknownst to him, deep in the damp Milbong Rainforest, a walking disaster had just awakened—bad enough to make even Lorcan consider early retirement.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
When the Hathi believed the situation had finally calmed down, a tremor far more powerful than the previous one struck without mercy. The Enedina blazed, lighting up the acropolis like a second sun and blinding everyone. Then it began to creak again, unleashing a dreadful hum that echoed across the entire capital—like the wail of something in agony.
People screamed in terror, and dozens of buildings—not designed for such a disaster—collapsed, causing more injuries and deaths, further escalating the general panic.
The great mantle of aether that had blanketed the kingdom in a static veil suddenly receded, triggering a violent suction effect that swept away everything in its path: people, rooftops, plants, animals, beasts—even the clouds. All were dragged several meters in one direction before the effect vanished.
In the distance, between the rainforest mountains, a massive pillar of light rose, swelling rapidly until it pierced the sky. But it wasn't the only one; several columns emerged across the continent.
These beams of light, seemingly infinite in height, collided with something that halted their ascent—as if they'd hit the ceiling of the firmament. Then, the upper edge of each column flattened and began to expand sideways.
Rings of light, like ripples after a stone hits the water, spread through the sky. They traveled for kilometers before transforming into veins of aether that dispersed in all directions.
ether auroras filled the skies over the Eirian continent, allowing every living being to witness their magnificence. The veins continued to expand until they met the auroras formed by other pillars, eventually connecting them all. Even the sigils circling the Enedina in glowing rings were absorbed into the surrounding auroras.
The invisible domes that protected each Enedina—and with them, the capitals built around them—flickered with vibrant colors, absorbing the aether veins at astonishing speed.
The Enedinas scattered across the world quaked with force and resonated with one another, emitting haunting sounds that terrified not only the local populations but also the families entrusted with guarding them.
With the situation so dire, humanity couldn't help but believe the end of the world was near. And yet, after what felt like an eternity, the light pillars began to dissolve, breaking apart into glowing particles that scattered into the air.
The Enedinas then fell into silence, as if the entire event had been a long nightmare. But the destruction left in their wake told a very different story.
Thus unfolded a historic event that would be recorded in every history book, and would later become known as the catastrophic phenomenon 'Aether Borealis'.