There was an unfamiliar lilt present in her voice, an accent that I couldn’t quite place. A female Aetherborne, one I presumed to be the Speaker, beckoned me forward with long, pale fingers adorned with ornate silver rings.
I proceeded forward with delicate steps against shimmering white tile until I reached the very center of the room, where the symbol of the city-state was inlaid in gold. Six circles overlapped one another, and each represented an element of aether, with a seventh circle in the center connecting them all in representation of the Source itself. Together, they formed what almost appeared to be a flower with six petals in the center, not unlike the white lilies that grew naturally all over the continent. It was also known as the Seed of Creation, and it was the official emblem of Sophrosyne and the Arcane Studium—both of which were synonymous with the Aetherborne themselves.
I personally recognized it as the silver tattoo on the inside of Amaretta’s left wrist, which had faded with age but still glowed gently from time to time. If all went well, I would soon bear that same mark that would identify me as a Conduit.
Upon arrival to the center of the room, I lifted my gaze upon the dais before me where the Aetherborne sat in silence.
All nineteen of the gods had titles specific to their roles within the Convocation and their arcane specialties, if I could recall correctly, though the details of what they all could do had been obscured over time. I had a feeling they preferred things that way.
The Speaker, the Oracle, the Priestess, Justice, Temperance—I had seen them all depicted in paintings and etchings inbooks, and yet nothing could have captured their breathtaking, ethereal forms as they appeared before me now.
“I am the Speaker,” the woman in the very center confirmed, her voice a pleasant song. It was so lovely, easy to listen to, and almost as entrancing as her beauty.
The Speaker was tall and slender, as they all were, with pale porcelain skin and long, pointed ears that peeked out behind thick waves of silver-white hair. She wore a complimenting sleeveless white gown made out of layered panels of sheer, semi-iridescent Irrosi silk, cinched at the waist with a silver cord and a broach that mirrored the symbol beneath my feet. Her eyes were such a pale blue that they appeared almost as silver as her hair with the wisps of aether flowing behind each iris, creating that otherworldly glow.
Gods, she was like pure aether. As the stunning immortal spoke, I could see her elongated canines flash and glint in the light, and felt myself shiver.
When I was younger, I thought that the stories of the gods having fangs was an embellished detail designed to scare children and remind us of their power. It was true, though. Those teeth were sharp as Hel and must have served some predatory purpose in an age long past. I should have probably found them fearsome for that reason, but they were actually rather pretty, in a dangerous sort of way.
I had always been attracted to danger.
They were all so entirely stunning. It was both enchanting and suffocating to stand before them in my plain mortality.
“We welcome you to Sophrosyne, young Resonant.”
“Thank you kindly, Speaker. I appreciate your time and consideration.”
Amaretta had instructed me to carry myself with grace and formality before the Elders without being overly reverential, andthough I was so nervous that I thought I might faint, I somehow managed to speak the words clearly.
“What brings you to Sophrosyne, young one? What is it that you hope to seek from the Arcane Studium?”
That felt like a loaded question, though that was probably the point.
“Knowledge. Insight. Growth,” I answered honestly, unsure of how specific they wanted me to get here. For a moment, I felt slightly lightheaded. The Speaker’s lips curled into a slight smile.
“You may be seated at any time, should you need it,” she said, gesturing to a small bench behind me that I hadn’t noticed before. I nodded.
“And what is the nature of the knowledge and growth that you seek here, Resonant?”
As I could not tell her the full truth, I decided to go with... truth-adjacent.
“In all honesty, Speaker, I do not yet know the answer to that question. Having been raised by a retired scholar, I know there is a wealth of knowledge here, far beyond my current understanding of the world. I grew up in the woods, and so I come eager to learn, but without any one specific path in mind. All I know at the moment is that I would like to strengthen my Resonance, learn arcana, and hope to see where the rest takes me.”
“Ah yes, your Resonance…” she mused softly after nodding along with the rest of my explanation. “It has been quite some time, by mortal standards, since a potential Light Conduit stood before us. Several decades, I believe. Am I correct, Alexei?”
The male Aetherborne to her left, dark-skinned with wine-red eyes, nodded slowly. If I could recall correctly, the god she referred to as Alexei was known as The Archivist. He was just as stunning as the Speaker and the rest of the Convocation. It wasbecoming quite clear to me why there were still some mortals who looked upon our living ancestors and saw divinity.
“Twenty two years,” he said, voice slow and thick like honey.
A coincidence, I told myself.Just an odd coincidence.
“The pursuit of knowledge for the sake of knowledge is a path we honor and respect, and you need not justify it. We are pleased to see another Lightbearer seek entry to the Arcane Studium.”
There was that term again—or was it a title? Lightbearer. One of the other Resonants on the ship had called me that, but I was unfamiliar with the origin.
“Tell me, Arken,” the Speaker continued. “At what age did your Resonance manifest?”
“I was just about twelve when it first appeared.”