28. Uri
URI
The light tastes of ash.
The chamber still smoulders, the scent of molten gold clogging the air.
I stand where the dais once gleamed, looking down at what remains of Solmir.
His blood has cooled to a dull silver, its brightness diminished.
In death, he is finally pure—no pride, no noise, only reflection. That, at least, is useful.
Calis kneels a few steps away, her hands shaking over the shards of her broken mask. She tries to piece it together, each movement a prayer, as if faith can be mended by holding the fragments.
“He was always so fiery,” I murmur. “No wonder he burned out.”
She ignores the jab. “This is sacrilege made flesh,” she whispers, her voice raw. “A creature like that should not be able to kill one of us. How did this happen so easily?”
“I don’t know. But the Light will pass judgement, and when we find her, so will we.” I keep my tone soft. Consoling. Always mercy before the blade. “Panic serves no one, Calis. The city needs calm. The people must believe the Triarch remains unbroken.”
“I am calm!” she screams, clutching the remains of her mask.
She rises. Her white robes are smeared with the remnants of Solmir’s life. Behind her shadowed gaze, I see a new and terrifying desperation. “The Sun is dead, Uri. You speak of calm while his blood stains our marble?”
“The Light has many suns,” I reply, fighting to contain my smile. She always forgets that. “Some are simply brighter than others.”
Her breath hitches—half anger, half grief. “You mean to conceal this?”
“We mean to preserve faith—to do Solan’s bidding.
Would you have the masses see chaos when they look upon the Guild?
” I edge closer, hands outstretched as if in a prayer.
“Tell them what they must hear: that Solmir ascended in radiance. That his death was renewal, not defeat. A new Luminary will be born from his embers, and the sun will rise stronger for the sacrifice.” If a replacement is even required.
I take her hands; they are warm and smooth. “We shall give him the procession the city needs to see; and then we will offer his body back to the Lumen Well.”
Truth is only dangerous when people expect it.
Calis hesitates, biting the inside of her cheek.
She has always been more of a zealot than a strategist. She looks to Solmir’s body sprawled on the dais steps, the molten silver drying to a dull, grey powder.
At last, she nods. “Then we will call the priests. The purification rites must begin at once.”
“Of course,” I say, bowing my head. “You read the rites. I will prepare the decree.”
She sweeps from the room, mask in hand and dust lining her cheeks. She pauses at the door, her golden gaze drifting to Solmir in a silent, furrowed farewell.
When she is gone, I let my own mask fall into my hands; the gold is still warm from my skin. In the warped reflection of Solmir’s blood, I see the faint outline of a girl—dark hair, eyes burning with violet intensity, shadows curling at her feet.
“You can run, but the shadows won’t hide you for long,” I whisper to her ghost.
My fingers trace the remaining quicksilver.
It clings to my skin, warm and almost alive.
It hums faintly, answering something deep within me.
I remember the way Seren looked when she drew for me—so trusting, so easy to manipulate.
I remember how the air shifted when she spoke of her visions.
I can feel it in her: something vast and patient that once spoke the language of the gods.
Even light casts a shadow. Such simple blasphemy, and yet it rang like a prophecy.
“You belong to me,” I murmur, staring at the remains of Solmir’s blood on my finger. “All miracles do.”
Outside, bells toll for the dawn—mocking and hollow. I slip my mask back on and turn toward the golden doors where the guards await their orders.
“Clean this,” I say to no one in particular. “Speak to no one of the events that transpired here. Ensure the city wakes to celebration, not mourning. The High Luminary of Radiance has joined Solan’s eternal flame.”
They bow, already moving to obey. None of them notice that the light leaking from my fingers isn’t gold at all, but a thin shimmer of silver. I close my fist, hiding the glow from those who are too observant.
“You!” I nod to a nearby guard. “Find Riven. Now!”
He dips his head then turns swiftly, his armour rattling as he sprints down the marbled corridor.
Riven will find her. And when he does, the Goddess and I will finish what was started a century ago.
This time, we will do it properly.