Sight Seeing [The Sanctuary of the Ascendant Flame]

[Quillon Hawke]

With his Seeker’s attention divided between Seraphis and Calliope, Quillon turned his focus toward Mia. Her reluctance was evident in the tension of her posture and the guarded way her eyes flicked around the room. Yet, the fact that she was here at all—standing in the heart of the Sanctuary—spoke of a mind at least partially open to the unknown. He knew well how curiosity often worked its way into doubt and, eventually, into belief.

“We Veilwardens are custodians, defenders, and guardians,” he began, his voice low and measured, each word weighted with solemn authority. “In this case, of the Veil itself.” His tone carried a deadly seriousness, one that hinted at responsibilities that transcended the mundane.

He paused, watching her reaction, knowing his words would undoubtedly spark more questions. That was the nature of seekers—questions layered upon questions, each leading closer to the answers they didn’t yet know they were looking for. Sámiel’s request for a demonstration, though not surprising, was more direct than most. Visitors to the Sanctuary often sought proof, yearning for glimpses of what lay beyond their ordinary perceptions. Quillon felt the weight of the request and knew it could not be dismissed lightly.

“The demonstration you seek is not uncommon,” he said, his gaze briefly sweeping over the group. “Rituals take place here daily at twilight, and twilight is nearly upon us. It is the hour when the stars of the Sanctuary guide us, and as the world shifts from one phase into another, so too does the Veil move and stir.”

With that, he took command of the group, his posture straightening with quiet authority. The rich fabric of his robes swirled around him as he turned, the subtle sound of it brushing the marble floor adding weight to his movements. “Allow me to show you something,” he said, his voice calm yet commanding.

He led them across the expansive hall, its open spaces alive with subtle light that danced across the ceiling like reflections off water. High above them, the Sanctuary’s state-of-the-art holographic system displayed a dazzling array of images, each one breathtaking in its detail. Many depicted the Ascendancy’s miracles—moments of divine intervention immortalized in light. But one stood apart from the others, a projection that seemed to pulse and shimmer with a life of its own.

Quillon’s attention sharpened as he approached the image, his steps slowing as his eyes caught those of another Seeker nearby. A subtle nod beckoned the onlooker closer, silently inviting them to bear witness to what was about to unfold.

“This,” Quillon said as he stopped beneath the towering projection, his voice dipping into reverence, “is the Veil.”

Above them, the hologram depicted the Ascendancy himself, his back turned to the viewer as though he were gazing into the mysteries beyond. His arms were raised, and from his body radiated a stunning web of fine, colorful threads, shimmering like the strands of a spider’s web caught in sunlight. The wires, impossibly delicate and in constant motion, seemed to coil and stretch outward, undulating as if alive, an artistic representation of the Ascendancy’s godlike magic.

Quillon lifted a hand and entered a command into the holographic interface embedded in the pedestal before him. At his touch, the image began to shift and descend, drawing gasps from those gathered. The Ascendancy’s form seemed to shimmer and glow as the projection became more tangible, closer, almost as though he stood among them. The luminous threads emanating from his body reflected off their faces like fine beams of light.

Quillon reached out absently, lifting a palm toward the glowing threads. His fingers traced a line along the projection, the light glinting off his skin in a way that made it seem as though the magic itself had reached out to meet him. His gaze remained fixed on the image as he spoke, his tone lowering to something almost reverent.

“A veil covers an unseen world,” he began, “like a mist or a disguise, concealing it from the eyes of most. But some of us… myself, Seraphis, and others among the Veilwardens… can glimpse beyond it. We are among the honored few, chosen to guard this unseen place, to protect its mysteries and enforce the laws set forth by the Ascendancy. And those laws…” His eyes flicked to Sámiel, then back to the hologram, “…are carried out by the Luminar.”

He let the words settle, his hand dropping back to his side as he turned to look at Calliope. His gaze softened for a moment as he recalled the first time he had shown her this same display. She had been full of questions then, her curiosity fierce and unrelenting. It was a memory he cherished, one that came rushing back with the same pride he’d felt at the time.

But his thoughts were interrupted by a figure emerging from behind Calliope, stepping into the light of the hologram. Quillon straightened instinctively, his expression tightening with formality as the familiar silhouette approached.

“Speaking of,” he said, his voice low, and he bowed his head deeply. “Allow me to present… the Luminar.”

The figure that approached radiated authority, their steps measured and deliberate as they came to stand in the light of the hologram. Quillon’s reverence deepened as he stepped aside, his attention shifting fully to the figure now commanding the room. Whatever light Sámiel or the others had drawn from him was now eclipsed by the presence of the Luminar, whose every movement seemed to embody the will of the Ascendancy itself.