Chapter 9: The Day The Ashes Rose
Chapter 9: The Day the Ashes Rose
The scent of lavender water and polished silver wafted through the cold marble halls of House Obsidian.
A splash.
Lux's eyes shot open, his breath caught in his throat as frigid water slammed into his small body. He gasped, trembling in the basin, chest heaving. The servants said nothing. Just hands. Cold, practiced, emotionless hands that scrubbed his limbs raw. One forced his golden hair into a tight braid while another dressed him in the ceremonial white silks of a lesser noble.
"Stop—" he whispered, but the word was smothered by the snap of fingers.
Another splash of perfume. A tug of silk around his throat. A shove toward the hallway.
He blinked, dazed.
What… what was this again?
It had been two years since the Codex had awakened. Two years since the silent god within him began rewriting his body, his soul, and his fate. He had waited for this moment. And yet… something still ached.
Not pain. Not fear.
Grief.
The mansion gates creaked open.
Waiting there stood his father—Lord Obsidian—in black and gold robes, eyes already narrowed in distaste. Beside him, Edward and George, Lux's older brothers, straightened with pride in their tailored uniforms. Edward sneered. George didn't even glance at him.
"You walk behind the carriage," his father growled without looking at him. "A disgrace like you does not sit beside nobles."
Lux nodded in silence. The pale purple carriage awaited, drawn by two majestic unicorns with spiraled violet horns. Lux's bare feet padded softly over the stone road as the carriage rolled forward. The sun was hidden behind low clouds, as if ashamed to bear witness.
Let them look away, he thought. The true sun walks today.
City Hall – Argent Baptism Chamber
City Hall loomed like a giant wall of bones, its walls forged from the ivory remains of slain world-beasts. The plaza before it booked with noise—hundreds of families with their wide-eyed five-year-olds, waiting anxiously.
Lux approached the gates last, alone, trailing the purple carriage. Yet as the guards saw the sigil of House Obsidian, the crowd parted. Grudgingly.
Inside, the air was thick with divine pressure.
The chamber was vast, circular, with obsidian floors and walls inscribed with runes older than history. At its center floated a silver orb the size of a child's skull—The Argent Eye—radiating threads of divine energy.
Three figures awaited them:
A gentle-looking old elf, his long ears heavy with wisdom, robed in soft white. The Edict Priest.
A grim soldier in red armor marked with a black sun sigil—the General's Projection.
A thin noble in golden-trimmed robes with a monocle over one eye—the Imperial Scholar's Projection.
"Step forward, children of House Obsidian," the Edict Priest said kindly.
Edward approached first. The silver orb dimly pulsed. A faint wisp of silver light touched his palm, then vanished.
The priest frowned. "Ashborn."
Gasps echoed. Edward turned pale.
George stepped up next. The orb shuddered. A flicker of silver flame crawled up his arm for three seconds before fading.
"Ember-Willed ," the priest announced. A few murmurs of approval.
Then came Lux.
He stepped forward slowly. The orb did not pulse. It flared.
A wind swept the chamber. The silken banners on the walls twisted wildly. The silver orb blazed—then turned still.
Then, softly, it released a single strand of light, which touched Lux's chest and vanished.
Silence.
The Priest's lips parted slightly. He leaned closer, peering with trembling hands.
"…Starchild."
A roar erupted. But not from the orb.
From the room itself.
"No… no…!" Lord Obsidian collapsed to his knees. "This can't be!"
"He's lying!" Edward screamed.
"Impossible!" George shouted.
Even the nobles in the gallery above began whispering.
The Priest ignored them all. He knelt before Lux, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder with reverence.
"You are… the most talented elf born in the Outer Rings in years. The light has chosen you, child."
From behind him, the projections stirred.
The noble raised his hand. A golden sigil flared—and a face appeared in the air, noble and disdainful. "I am Veritas of House Iltherien," he said. "Come, child. Join true nobility. You belong with those of real blood—not with mongrels and half-breeds."
The soldier in red lit a crimson glyph. "Field Marshal Kaelor of the Eternal Vanguard. We've seen your kind die in glory. If you desire purpose and war… we'll give you both."
The scholar waved a hand, conjuring a third face, ancient and serene. "Archmaster Thellos of the Imperial Academy. The path of truth is the highest of all. Come. Learn what this world has forgotten."
Three choices. Three paths.
All eyes turned to the golden-haired boy with the quiet fire in his gaze.
"I choose…" Lux said.
"…War."
Kaelor's projection smiled happily.
"Do you desire a reward, child?" the Edict Priest asked.
Lux turned.
His voice was soft. But it cut like a blade.
"I want House Obsidian gone. My father dead. Everyone who shares his blood or allegiance… removed."
The audience froze.
Lord Obsidian stood up, trembling, screaming. "You dare!? You cursed child! You filthy whore's son! I should've drowned you at birth, your mother was a gutterbred slave and a lying—"
Kaelor raised his hand and said as he laughed, "as you wish child."
Snap.
There was no light. No sound.
Only a pressure—a divine authority older than justice.
And Lord Obsidian… exploded.
Blood sprayed across the marble floor. Screams erupted. Edward clawed at his throat as fire swallowed his lungs. George collapsed, convulsing, as his flesh turned black.
All throughout the city, from noble to servant, anyone bound to House Obsidian dropped where they stood.
Silence followed.
Only Lux remained, unmoving. Unblinking.
Kaelor's projection extended a hand.
"The War academy awaits."
Lux stepped forward. The Edict Priest bowed. The other projections vanished.
The glyph beneath Kaelor's projection glowed.
And in a flash of crimson light, Lux vanished, carried away by the light —toward the bleeding edges of the Empire.
Toward his new life.