Aetherra, The Throne's Decree

[Storm of Serenity]

Prologue

The heavens were eternal brilliance, woven from threads of liquid starlight and spun upon wheels of celestial flame. Endless spires of gold and silver rose from the sacred clouds, their architecture ethereal and ever-changing. Here, at the very heart of creation, rested The Throne—an incomprehensible brilliance that radiated authority and wisdom. Around it, countless Seraphim stood in eternal vigil, their wings incandescent, expressions serene yet watchful.

Among them was Seraphim Reyvn. Radiant, fierce, and loyal, she stood in proud silence, her sapphire eyes reflecting celestial fires. Her wings, pure and pristine, stretched majestically behind her—six powerful limbs, each feather shimmering softly with starlight. She was revered among her kin, a guardian of truth, wielder of Lumina and Umbra, the twin blades of celestial judgment.

Today, however, was different. A tension hung thick in the sacred air, silent yet deafening. The Throne pulsed with divine energy, waves of golden light rippling outward, carrying the weight of a profound decree. Reyvn felt the energy keenly, resonating deep within her being, each pulse stirring unease within her heart.

"Seraphim Reyvn," the voice of The Throne resonated, echoing like an orchestra of whispers woven together. It was both beautiful and overwhelming. "Come forth."

Reyvn stepped forward gracefully, kneeling in respectful submission. Her heartbeat quickened, unfamiliar anxiety gripping her essence. "I am here, Divine One."

"You have witnessed the world known as Aetherra," the voice continued, each word filling Reyvn with both reverence and inexplicable dread. "Its peoples have abandoned our ways, embraced corruption, and now teeter upon the brink of ruin. The corruption spreads unchecked, a cancer upon creation. The time has come for purification."

Reyvn's heart, normally unwavering, clenched painfully in her chest. Memories of Aetherra flashed vividly—great cities of elves nestled harmoniously within sprawling forests, dwarven halls ringing with the sound of honest labor, human villages thriving despite adversity, and even the fierce yet noble tribes of orcs. It was imperfect, yes, but vibrant, resilient, and full of potential. She recalled gentle laughter among children, acts of bravery amid despair, and the quiet dignity of ordinary mortals facing life's trials.

"Divine One," she dared softly, eyes cast downward in humility but voice carrying strength. "Is destruction truly the only way?"

"Cleansing fire brings renewal," The Throne responded solemnly. "From ashes, life will rise again, purified and obedient. The corruption must be excised before it threatens the balance of all creation."

"But they are more than their faults," Reyvn pressed, her courage rising despite knowing the danger of her audacity. "They strive, they fight, they endure. Is there no redemption left for them?"

Murmurs rose from the other Seraphim—astonishment at her challenge. None dared question the wisdom of The Throne, the source of all divine law. The eyes of her kin burned into her, curious and cautious, their gazes heavy with judgment.

"Careful, Reyvn," warned a voice at her side. It was Uriel, fellow guardian and friend, concern etched into his ageless features. "You tread a dangerous path."

Reyvn met his gaze briefly, feeling the weight of his worry. Yet she could not yield, not without exhausting every avenue. "I have seen potential among them," she insisted, her voice clearer and stronger. "Something dark stirs behind their corruption—something beyond mere mortal failing."

"Your compassion speaks well of your heart, Seraphim," The Throne intoned, its voice growing stern. "Yet you see only fragments. Obedience ensures order. Will you defy divine decree for your fleeting intuition?"

Reyvn felt the weight of every gaze upon her, the air humming with anticipation. Her swords trembled slightly in their sheaths, resonating with her turbulent emotions. She drew a slow breath, considering her words carefully, feeling each heartbeat as if counting her final moments.

She hesitated, torn by loyalty and duty. Images of faces, laughter, tears, hope, and despair flooded her mind, each memory an argument against blind destruction. Yet obedience was her very essence, ingrained into every fiber of her celestial being. Defiance was unthinkable—betrayal unimaginable.

But the thought of annihilating innocents in blind obedience was equally unbearable. It pierced her core, shaking her sense of self, challenging everything she had believed. Reyvn felt a tear form, crystalline and pure, slipping silently down her cheek—a first and profound sign of her turmoil.

Her gaze lifted slowly, meeting the blazing majesty of The Throne. A profound sorrow filled her eyes even as her resolve hardened. "I choose exile," she whispered finally, her voice echoing softly through the celestial halls. "If obedience means the destruction of innocents, then I can no longer serve."

An intense silence consumed Heaven, followed swiftly by an eruption of brilliant fury from The Throne. The celestial foundation quaked violently, sending shockwaves through the assembly. Reyvn's wings ignited painfully, their pristine feathers blackening under the searing touch of divine wrath, turning into midnight-dark shadows. Agony coursed through her as feathers burned and reformed, each nerve-ending screaming.

Her blades, Lumina and Umbra, dulled suddenly, the divine glow within them extinguishing abruptly, leaving only lifeless steel behind. Pain rippled through her as divine seals etched into her flesh, burning symbols that imprisoned her immense power behind impenetrable walls.

She cried out, the sound torn from the depths of her being, as the burning chains of judgment constricted tighter, binding her essence, stripping away her celestial grace. Her vision blurred with agony, her body wracked with spasms.

"Then fall," pronounced The Throne, sorrow threading through its fury.

The celestial floor beneath Reyvn dissolved abruptly, plunging her through a chasm of glowing clouds into a void of infinite darkness. Her scream tore from her throat as she fell, the heavens receding above her, distant and cold. Her descent quickened, breaking through layers of reality, rending time and space, leaving ripples of radiant energy trailing behind her.

Far below, nestled within dense woodland, lay the village of Veldenreach. The inhabitants, peaceful and modest folk, paused their nightly tasks, their eyes widening as they beheld the fiery spectacle. Among them was Jae'sen, a young man of quiet strength and observant eyes. He stood at the edge of the village, heart pounding, watching as a blazing star tore through the heavens.

Whispers of astonishment and fear rippled through the villagers. Some fell to their knees, murmuring prayers, certain they witnessed a sign from the gods. Others gripped their weapons cautiously, suspecting dark magic or divine punishment. But Jae'sen alone felt an inexplicable pull—a profound curiosity mingled with an instinctual recognition of something beyond mere chance.

As the celestial exile crashed violently upon the earth, the tremors reached Veldenreach, shaking homes and scattering wildlife. Jae'sen's heart raced, his thoughts consumed by a singular question: what divine or ominous force had come to their world—and why did he feel so compelled to discover the truth?





Chapter 1 to follow soon~
Hope y'all enjoy!!
Serenity.copyrights.