Chapter Thirteen: The Magocracy of Solencia

| The Floating Citadel of Solencia |

High above the clouds, drifting upon unseen currents of magic, the Celestial Sanctum of Solencia hovered like a radiant jewel in the sky. Towers of enchanted marble spiraled toward the heavens, their surfaces pulsing with runic inscriptions that shimmered with ethereal energy. Bridges of translucent crystal arched between the floating spires, suspended over the vast expanse of the continent below. The very air of Solencia hummed with latent power, an ever-present reminder that this was a land governed not by steel or gold, but by magic itself.

At the heart of the sanctum stood the Grand Sanctum Arcanum, a towering structure crowned with a radiant beacon of energy—a source of power drawn from the very fabric of the world's ley lines. Within its grand halls, the Council of Magisters convened, seated in a circular chamber where floating orbs of arcane light illuminated the faces of the most powerful mages in the world.

At the center, upon an elevated dais, sat High Magister Kaelion Tharos, his piercing silver eyes fixed upon a projection of the world map. Unlike the rulers of mortal kingdoms, he wore no crown of gold, but rather a diadem of pure starlight—a symbol of his command over the arcane. His robes, woven from enchanted silk, rippled with shifting constellations, as though the very cosmos bent to his will.

The projection flickered, revealing a growing dominion in the eastern seas. A sigil unfamiliar to many but impossible to ignore—a golden phoenix, rising from crimson flames. Vandemir.

The room was filled with quiet murmurs, whispers of speculation, concern, and intrigue. Finally, Kaelion raised a hand, silencing the chamber with a mere gesture.

"Vandemir," he spoke, his voice smooth but commanding, "a kingdom forged in the crucible of steel and sorcery. A land that defies the natural order by blending industry with the arcane." His gaze darkened. "This… aberration must be understood before it is tolerated."

A hooded figure, Magister Vaelora, leaned forward, her violet eyes glinting beneath the shadow of her cowl. "Their rise was swift—unnaturally so. They emerged from nothing, yet they wield powers that should take centuries to master. They break the sacred traditions of magic by fusing it with mechanisms of war."

A deep, rumbling voice cut through the chamber. Archmage Relkar, a man whose body was lined with enchanted metal grafts—scars of arcane experimentation—spoke with the slow weight of a man who had seen too much. "We should tread carefully, High Magister. Vandemir has already demonstrated its might against the Black Tide. They are no mere upstarts."

Kaelion steepled his fingers. "That is precisely why we must act. A power unchecked is a power that will one day challenge us." He turned to the council. "Send the Eyes of Solencia. I want our finest diviners and shadow-mages embedded within Vandemir. I want to know the source of their power, their secrets, and their weaknesses."

Vaelora's lips curled into a smile. "It shall be done."

As the council murmured their agreements, Kaelion turned his gaze back to the floating map. Vandemir was a wildfire, burning bright and fierce.

But Solencia had long held dominion over the unseen forces of the world. And if necessary, they would remind this rising kingdom that magic was not meant to be wielded so carelessly.

Beyond the citadel, the vast expanse of Solencia unfolded—a land untouched by the constraints of conventional rule. Unlike the merchant-driven wealth of Argos or the iron-fisted governance of the Dominion, Solencia was a realm where power was not inherited but earned through magical prowess.

The kingdom was divided into four grand provinces, each overseen by an Archmagister, whose command of their respective schools of magic shaped the land itself.

The Luminar Spires – A region of floating islands, where celestial magic allowed scholars to commune with the stars, divining the future and unraveling the mysteries of time.

The Umbral Marshes – A land where shadows whispered, ruled by those who practiced forbidden arts. The veiled assassins and illusionists of this region were both feared and revered.

The Arcane Forges – Great chasms of molten rock where magic-infused metals were crafted into legendary artifacts, home to artificers and war-magi.

The Leyspring Expanse – Rolling fields where ley lines converged, empowering the most powerful elementalists to shape storms, summon tidal waves, and shift the land itself.

Within each of these provinces, magic was both a tool and a weapon, and every citizen was trained in the arcane arts from childhood. Those who showed promise were sent to the Grand Sanctum Arcanum, where they underwent rigorous training to ascend the ranks of magical society.

It was from these provinces that Solencia drew its greatest strength—and from where it now turned its attention toward Vandemir.

Far from the floating citadel, in the mist-laden streets of Eternis Primus, shadows moved unseen. The Eyes of Solencia, a network of spies trained in illusion, divination, and silent infiltration, had already begun their work. Cloaked figures walked the streets as traders, scholars, and diplomats, gathering whispers of Vandemir's advancements.

One such agent, a woman known only as Selarra, stood upon a rooftop, gazing down at the glowing streets below. The city was unlike anything she had seen before—a place where magic was not revered as a sacred art, but rather bound into machines, harnessed like a common resource. Blasphemy, some magisters would say. Ingenuity, others might argue.

As she watched, an airship passed overhead, its engines infused with arcane power, the runes along its hull glowing softly. This was not primitive sorcery—this was something new.

Selarra turned her gaze toward the Dominion Castle, where a single figure stood upon the balcony, gazing out over his empire.

Aedric Leiyen von Vandemir.

The man who had defied convention and built a kingdom in defiance of the natural order.

Selarra's lips curled into a smirk. "Let's see what secrets you're hiding, Sovereign."

With that, she vanished into the shadows, her presence unnoticed by the guards below.

Within the halls of the War College, Aedric studied the latest intelligence reports. His network of informants had detected unusual movements—new arrivals who asked too many questions, traders who took note of every detail.

Sebastian placed a sealed letter before him. "The Eyes of Solencia are here."

Aedric exhaled, his expression unreadable. "Of course they are."

He took the letter, breaking the seal. The words were few, but they confirmed what he already knew.

"They watch. They learn. But we are watching too."

Aedric's lips curled into a knowing smile.

"Let them watch," he murmured. "They will see only what I wish them to see."

He turned, his mind already shaping the next move. If Solencia wished to understand Vandemir, then he would ensure they learned the lesson he wanted to teach.

This was a game of power and knowledge. And Aedric had no intention of losing.