[The Skyward Region - Entrance of the Phoenix Queen Tribe]
They found themselves standing before the village's imposing main gates, crafted from lustrous Sun-Steel and flanked by two towering statues carved from red marble.
"We've finally arrived..." Libinea sighed, the weight of the journey evident on her shoulders.
Though they could have simply teleported to the summit, they had chosen the slow route to allow Faye to witness the wonders of nature.
It was a decision they now deeply regretted.
The forest had been a gauntlet of accidental divinity.
First, Faye had been terrorized by a swarm of bees. Her sheer panic caused a nearby Oak Tree to gain sentience in defense of its "Goddess." Ezmelral had to slay the rampaging tree before it swatted the bees (and the rest of the forest) into oblivion.
But the madness didn't stop there.
Just before reaching the summit, a colony of ants had built a mud sculpture of Faye to worship. Faye, delighted by the tribute, had giggled at it.
That giggle was a command.
The mud sculpture grew flesh and bones. It blinked. It started crawling. Suddenly, there were two Fayes. The confusion was absolute. Raiking, Ezmelral, and Libinea spent ten minutes trying to figure out which baby was the biological anomaly and which was the golem.
Even now, as Raiking adjusted the baby in his arms, he looked at her with mild suspicion.
Is she the mud one? he wondered. She feels a bit heavier than usual.
"Gaga!" Faye drooled.
Close enough, Raiking decided.
"Let's avoid forests in the future..." Ezmelral muttered, removing a twig from her hair.
"I concur," Raiking said.
His gaze shifted to Libinea, who was staring up at the two grand marble statues guarding the gate.
"Are those the previous Queens?" Ezmelral inquired softly.
"Yes," Libinea replied, her voice laden with emotion. She gestured to the statue on the left. "She is the Ancestral Phoenix. And the one on the right... is my mother."
The sorrow beneath her regal tone was palpable. A moment of silence enveloped the group as everyone, even Faye, gazed up at the stone visage of the woman who had perished defending this mountain.
Raiking, however—with Faye in his arms—cautiously took a step back, concerned that he might be within range for Faye to inadvertently awaken the statue, which would be a nightmare to explain to the villagers.
After a brief silence, Libinea stepped forward. She placed her hand on the shimmering, invisible dome encircling the village—a Grand Formation designed to disintegrate anyone without Phoenix blood who attempted to enter.
While the formation was ineffectual against Raiking and Ezmelral due to their cultivation realms, Faye was still at the mortal stage. Her resistance to ancient disintegration arrays had not been tested, and Raiking was not eager to find out.
Libinea channeled her Sun Attunement into the barrier.
"Shatter."
The word was simple, yet the effect was absolute.
CRACK.
The invisible surface fractured like a mirror struck by a hammer. Shards of golden energy rained down, dissolving before they hit the ground.
The massive Sun-Steel gates creaked open.
Revealed behind them were hundreds of Phoenix kin. They stood in formation, attired in feathered robes and leather armor, their red hair billowing in the wind. They regarded the intruders with a blend of confusion, awe, and wary suspicion.
"Is that..." one warrior whispered, squinting against the sun.
"That cannot be..." an older woman gasped, clutching her chest.
"But they look so much alike," a child pointed out.
"Fetch the Elders immediately!" a guard ordered with urgency.
The scout swiftly vanished into the village, yet whispers persisted. Among the Phoenix kin, rumors spread rapidly, igniting a blend of curiosity and disbelief. Theories abounded, but none dared to voice them openly. The notion that the figure at the gate could be the Queen, who had perished a millennium ago, was a hope too vast to articulate.
The crowd instinctively parted, forming a wide path to the Ancestral Shrine.
The shrine's wooden doors groaned as they opened.
Emerging from the incense-filled shadows were the tribe's eldest members, their hair, a testament to their wisdom, faded to a pale grey.
Elder Wenya, the matriarch who once braided Libinea's hair when she was but a hatchling.
Elder Mushai, the patriarch and the tribe's most formidable guardian.
They paused on the steps, their gaze fixed on the woman at the gate—her familiar jawline, the royal azure streaks in her hair, and her proud, unwavering stance.
"Li... Libinea?" Elder Wenya whispered, her voice quivering with a millennium of sorrow. "Is... is that really you?"
"It is me, Auntie Wenya," Libinea responded, her regal demeanor softening into a genuine smile.
Elder Wenya stepped forward, then again. Her walk turned into a jog, then a desperate sprint. She abandoned her dignity, forgetting her age, as she raced down the stairs like a mother running to a lost child.
Libinea stepped forward to meet her.
They met in the center of the plaza, where Wenya enveloped Libinea in an embrace, burying her face in the Queen's neck.
"It is you! My dear Libinea, it truly is you..." Wenya sobbed, her tears soaking into Libinea's garments. "We thought you were dust... we thought you were gone..."
Libinea held the elderly woman tightly, gently patting her trembling back. "I am sorry I was delayed, Auntie. I am so sorry."
As the village observed the emotional reunion with wet eyes, Elder Mushai remained on the steps.
He was less sentimental, not due to a lack of care, but because his duty as a guardian took precedence over familial bonds.
His keen, hawk-like eyes were not on Libinea. They were fixed on the man standing behind her.
Raiking.
A man whose spiritual energy he could not detect.
"Who are your companions, Libinea?" Elder Mushai inquired, his voice cutting through the warmth of the moment.
The question silenced the crowd. The ancient law forbidding mortals from entering the Skyward Region was a grave matter that even a Queen must address.
Libinea gently pulled away from Wenya, turning to face Mushai. The warmth in her eyes hardened into resolve.
"They are not mere companions, Uncle," she declared firmly. "They are the reason I am alive."
---
[The Void Realm - The Boundary Lake]
While the Phoenix Tribe experienced a reunion that would redefine their history, a far more sinister event unfolded in a dimension where the most malevolent creatures resided.
At the entrance to the Void Realm lay a lake black as ink, acting as a one-way mirror: mortals could enter, but Void Beings were eternally confined.
Currently, the shore was occupied by a crouched figure. To the untrained eye, she appeared to be a little girl wearing tattered, oversized robes. Her hair was stark white, her eyes a glowing crimson, and her petite frame screamed vulnerability.
Yet, she was no mere child.
She was Morgal. A 1,000-year-old Void Being and the third strongest member of The Silent Blade Clan.
She had assured Grandmaster Vex of her return by yesterday, but here she remained, entranced by the creatures swimming in the lake. At first glance, they seemed like harmless fish, but those who dared enter the water met the fearsome Void Guardians—beings of pure hunger.
"My... Little... Fishes," Morgal giggled, her voice vibrating with a distortion that made the air tremble. "Which of you shall I take with me this time?"
She stood, smoothing her tattered robes, and pointed a pale finger at the squirming mass of horrors beneath the surface.
"Okay!" she shouted excitedly. "Let's let fate decide!"
She began to hop from one foot to the other, her voice singing a twisted version of a nursery rhyme that echoed across the desolate landscape.
"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe..."
She pointed at a massive, serpentine creature coiling in the deep.
"Catch a Hero by the toe..."
She shifted her finger to another shadow.
"If he screams, eat him slow..."
The monsters held their breath. They knew the rules. To be chosen was to be enslaved.
"I, choose..."
Morgal spun around, her finger landing squarely on a creature composed entirely of jagged crystal.
"...YOU!"
The chosen creature recoiled. Its purpose was to guard the boundary, preventing Void Beings from leaving, not to abandon its post for an adventure with a 1,000-year-old eccentric woman.
Morgal frowned, her pout was genuinely fearsome.
She was not only internally frustrated with the creature's defiance, but her discontent resonated throughout the Void Realm.
BOOM!
A sudden explosion of Void Magic Essence erupted from Morgal's petite form. The dark energy swirled around her, taking shape as a menacing wraith with a head and horns reminiscent of a goat.
This was the Will of The Void.
Its body was veined with dark red, mirroring the glow in Morgal's eyes. It fixed a soul-chilling gaze on the defiant Void Guardian.
In terror, the Guardian surged forward, leaping out of the black lake in a spray of dark water. It transformed into a humanoid figure of sharp crystal and knelt before Morgal, trembling with fear.
Morgal smiled, and the darkness dissipated immediately. She reached out to pat its jagged head.
"That's a good little void creature."
She gently stroked its head, though the act was more insidious than it appeared. The Guardian's trembling began to cease. Its glowing eyes dimmed, fading into a lifeless void.
As she withdrew her hand, a black string emerged from the Guardian's skull, attaching itself to Morgal's fingertips.
It was its soul.
"I'll hold onto this until the task is complete," she said, winding the soul-string around her finger like a toy. "We wouldn't want you getting cold feet now, would we?"
Her cruelty did not stop there. Her magic demanded more puppets.
"I... have... room for two more," she sang ominously, turning back to the lake.
The Void Guardians in the lake met her gaze. They longed to flee, but none dared move in the presence of the Void's Will. They could only resign themselves to their fate: to become the playthings of a monster masquerading as a child.