Toki stood before the towering stone monoliths, his eyes scanning the endless list of engraved names—names of fallen knights, silent and eternal. The sun filtered through the cathedral-like arches of stone, illuminating the solemn place with gold and gray. It felt like standing amidst ghosts.
"Each name... a vow fulfilled," Toki murmured, fingers brushing one of the names, still unreadable to him, yet heavy with sacrifice.
"Not every name," Bernard said quietly, stepping beside him. His voice held a weight not even his armor could carry. "Some are missing."
Toki turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. "Missing?"
Bernard nodded. "Ozvold's father. His name isn't here. He... took his own life."
Toki's lips parted slightly in surprise. "And that disqualifies him? Even after a lifetime of service?"
"In the eyes of the Order," Bernard replied, "suicide is seen as the ultimate betrayal. Abandoning one's oath. It's cruel, but it's tradition."
Toki was silent for a moment, then asked, "Then where is he buried?"
Bernard sighed. "Most likely in the common cemetery. With the civilians. No fanfare. No vigil. Just dirt and silence."
Toki's eyes wandered from Bernard's worn expression to a monolith in the distance. Unlike the others, it bore only one name—bold and solitary.
He approached it slowly, reverently.
"Who is this?" he asked.
Gerald had joined them, his boots echoing across the stone floor. He looked up at the monolith. "That is Rindal. The first king of Luminith. The first knight. The founder of the Order. Four hundred years ago."
Toki stared at the carved face above the name. The statue had aged, but the craftsmanship still radiated regality. Rindal's face was carved with such authority and calm that it silenced all noise.
To Rindal's right and left stood two statues of women. One was veiled entirely, her features hidden beneath folds of marble. The other held a shovel, worn and deliberate, her stance solemn.
Something stirred in Toki's memory.
"She... reminds me of the woman from the Hall of Mirrors," he whispered.
Bernard nodded. "These are the guardian goddesses of Luminith. On the left, Andromeda—goddess of stars and fate. On the right, Moonlight—goddess of the moon, of death, and of the night. She is always depicted with a shovel."
"They grant power to the knights?" Toki asked.
"They bless us," Bernard replied. "They are the spiritual pillars of the Order."
Toki squinted at the statues, then asked, "Are they the ones who distribute mana?"
Gerald chuckled. "No. That's more complicated. Mana comes from the gods, but not directly."
He turned toward Toki. "Long ago, the gods sent manacores to our world. Crystalline vessels of power. Each one linked to a specific deity. Churches were built around them. Doctrines formed. But the manacores are what allow us to grow stronger."
"You mean... the Four Levels of Mana Cultivation?" Toki asked.
Gerald shook his head. "That's just the beginning. In truth, there are twelve phases an adept can go through. The higher levels are shrouded in mystery. Few ever reach them. I've only reached the fourth phase myself. Bernard is at the third."
"Twelve...?" Toki blinked. "Why have I never heard of this?"
"Because only the Order knows," Bernard said. "It's kept secret."
"But why?"
Gerald crossed his arms. "Because this knowledge is dangerous. The higher phases require immense spiritual resilience. One misstep, and you lose yourself. This is divine power. And it corrupts the unworthy."
Toki's gaze darkened. "So what's the process? How does one ascend?"
Bernard gestured toward the monoliths. "It starts by absorbing a manacore. From there, you begin aligning with the god it's tied to. In our kingdom, we follow the paths of Andromeda and Moonlight."
"So, domains like... stars and destiny?"
"Exactly. If you're attuned to a manacore from Andromeda, your domain might be stars or fate. From Moonlight, it might be darkness, the moon, or death."
Gerald added, "When you fought me in the arena, you summoned a black mist. That wasn't ordinary mana. Most likely, your affinity is to the domain of Darkness."
Toki frowned. "But I'm only at the second level of mana cultivation..."
Gerald smiled. "Compatibility with a manacore is more important than your cultivation level. Some are born to walk these paths. You're one of them, Toki."
Toki was quiet for a moment, then asked, "If this power is so sacred... why are manacores forbidden? Why doesn't the public know about this?"
"Because temptation corrupts," Bernard replied. "And manacores are divine tools. If civilians learned the truth, they'd fight over them, use them selfishly. We—the Order—are the guardians of balance."
"So how do you evolve through the phases?" Toki asked.
"Rituals," Bernard said. "Each phase requires a ritual. Specific objects. Specific locations. Specific moments. Most of us don't even understand what happens at the higher phases. We're forbidden to delve too deep."
Gerald nodded. "We serve, not question. The gods reward those who obey."
Toki looked at the statues again, now with new reverence. "And other kingdoms?"
"They have their own gods, their own manacores. Their own secret orders. We move in silence to keep balance. The world isn't ready for the truth."
Gerald's tone changed. "Toki, tomorrow night, under the full moon, you'll perform your first ritual."
Toki blinked. "So soon?"
"You've been chosen. This isn't coincidence."
Bernard placed a hand on his shoulder. "Gerald walks the path of Destiny. I walk the path of the Moon. If you continue down the path of Darkness, your journey will be unlike ours."
Gerald added, "As a Division Commander now, your responsibilities—and your salary—will increase dramatically."
"Salary?" Toki raised an eyebrow.
"You'll be leading missions. Secret ones. Classified. But first, we need to sign official documents. That happens tomorrow morning. You'll stay in the capital tonight. I'll arrange accommodations for you, your lady, and the little one."
Toki gave a tired smile. "Thank you."
He turned back toward the monolith, now glowing faintly with candlelight. Quietly, he lit a candle of his own and placed it beside the others. Hundreds of flames flickered together—some old, some new—all reaching for the heavens.
The three men exited the hidden chamber in silence, the heavy stone door closing behind them like a final breath.
The palace doors shut behind Toki with a soft echo, the massive hinges whispering secrets of old to the marble halls. The quiet solemnity of the stone chamber still clung to his shoulders, but his heart beat faster now—he had taken another step forward. He was not the same boy who had entered Luminith. He was something else now. Something becoming.
Gerald clapped him on the back one final time. "Welcome again to the Order of the Eternal Flame, Commander. I trust you'll burn brightly."
Bernard smiled as he leaned against one of the sunlit columns. "And may you have a wonderful day, Commander. I look forward to working with you."
Toki raised an eyebrow, amused. "Do I even have a division yet?"
Bernard scratched the back of his head, laughing a little. "Ah... about that. Division Four hasn't been active for some time. It might be safe to assume your people are... in a tavern somewhere."
"A tavern," Toki echoed flatly.
Bernard held up his hands defensively. "It's tradition. When a division loses its commander and isn't assigned a new one, the soldiers tend to... improvise structure."
Toki sighed, a wry smile pulling at his lips. "So I have two hundred undisciplined knights scattered around the capital?"
"Exactly," Bernard said, grinning. "But once you sign the official documents tomorrow morning, they'll fall under your direct command. You can whip them back into shape."
Toki nodded. "Thanks, Bernard."
He exited the palace gates, stepping down the stairs with measured calm. Outside, the golden light of afternoon painted the cobbled square in warm hues. Utsuki and Tora waited by the carriage, both watching him closely. Utsuki's arms were crossed, but her face softened when she saw him approach. Tora had her boots up on the wheel, chewing on a piece of candied ginger, her eyes squinting against the sun.
"Leonard had to leave early," Utsuki said as soon as he reached them.
"That's fine," Toki said. "We have to stay in the capital one more night."
Utsuki blinked. "Why?"
"We have some things to finalize tomorrow morning," Toki explained. "Paperwork. After that, I'll officially be the commander of the Fourth Division."
Tora let out a low whistle. "Look at you. A whole division. That means you can order people to bring you grapes and fan you with peacock feathers, right?"
"Exactly that," Toki deadpanned. "Starting with you."
Tora rolled her eyes. "Not a chance."
Toki smirked, climbing into the driver's seat of the carriage. He gave the bird-like creature—Lumma—a firm tap, and it let out a ruffled caw before pulling the carriage into motion.
Utsuki leaned out the window. "Where are we staying?"
"I'll drop you two off at the guesthouse near the eastern fountain," Toki said. "I have to make one more stop before sunset."
Utsuki tilted her head. "Is it important?"
"Confidential," he said with a faint smile.
Tora raised an eyebrow. "Mysterious. I like it."
Utsuki leaned back and shrugged. "No need. Lady Elizabet has invited all the candidats to a tea party this evening. It's meant to be a casual get-to-know-each-other gathering. She asked me to attend, and said Tora can come with me."
"Tea parties," Tora muttered. "Sounds like a bloodbath in slow motion."
"You'll survive," Utsuki said.
Toki chuckled. "Well, I'm glad things are starting to calm down. All right then. To the salon we go."
High above, inside the palace's west tower, Bernard stood watching the disappearing carriage through the tall stained-glass window. The colors of red and gold stretched across his armor.
The King approached him slowly, his presence always somehow heavier than his steps. "You're worried."
Bernard didn't look away. "Not worried. Curious."
"Do you think he might take your place someday?"
Bernard turned his head, a wry grin forming. "Toki? No. He's far too peculiar to bother with a title as small as First Division Commander."
The King raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what does he want, then?"
"Your crown, most likely."
There was a silence.
And then the King laughed—deep and genuine.
Bernard laughed too.
The two men watched as the carriage disappeared into the winding streets of the capital, the light bleeding toward twilight.
Toki guided the carriage carefully down the side roads, his thoughts drifting back to the monoliths. To the statue of Rindal. To the veiled face of Andromeda and the quiet presence of Moonlight and her eternal shovel.
He had been chosen. Not just to lead soldiers. But for something more. The ritual would take place tomorrow night. And deep inside, he wasn't sure what he would become after it.
The carriage rolled forward, wheels echoing on cobblestone.
Behind him, Utsuki and Tora chatted quietly. The city began to shift around them—from the grand marble boulevards to cozy lamp-lit streets lined with flower boxes and ivy-draped balconies.
Tomorrow, his life would change again.
But for now, the sky blushed violet, the scent of baked bread and burning incense filling the air.
For now, Toki allowed himself to smile.
And the road stretched on, golden and gray.
Toki stepped out of the carriage and gently closed the door behind Utsuki and Tora. The summer air was cooler now, filtered through lantern-lit trees flanking the salon's stone entryway.
"Behave," he said, his voice quiet yet firm, a light smile tugging at his lips. "And tell Lady Elizabeth—and Bernard—that I greet them both. I'll be back before nightfall."
Utsuki gave a gentle nod, smoothing a stray curl. "We'll be here, but don't push yourself."
Tora rolled her shoulders, feigning toughness. "Don't worry—unless you fall into a suspicious puddle. Then you better send a messenger."
Toki let a soft laugh escape him. "I'll manage."
He watched as the two women stepped inside. Then, pausing at the carriage lantern's glow, he reached to caress Lumma's neck before turning away.
With deliberate steps, he raised his cane and set off down the capital's silent cobblestone streets. Each tap echoed with purpose—his head held high, coat tails rustling like a knight's cloak.
As he walked, Toki felt the shift beneath his boots: the city's pulse slowed, walls darkened, and lantern shadows deepened. No crowd, no carriage thrums—just tranquil nightfall and the echo of his cane.
A few turns later, he paused before a shabby flower shop, its paint peeling and lantern broken. A sign swinging in the breeze read "Blossoms & Bouquets". Faint petals scattered near the doorway, footprints of neglected business.
Inside, a young florist—a dark auburn in her unkempt braid, apron smudged with pollen—approached him nervously. Her dress looked mended at the hem, and dust clung to her boots.
She bowed quickly. "Good evening, Commander. May I help you?"
Toki tipped his top hat, drawing it over his heart. "No need for formality, young lady. I'd like a bouquet."
She straightened, eager. "A 'special lady'? I can put together something lovely?"
He shook his head. "No… a white bouquet. I'm going to the cemetery."
Her eyes widened. "I—I'm sorry for your loss."
He dipped his head. "No loss of my own. I wish to show respect—for an ancestor."
Claustrophobic shelves rattled as she hurried to gather white blooms: lilies, white roses, and sprigs of baby's breath. She arranged them gently, her expression solemn.
Toki opened his hand and dropped in five gold coins. She gasped.
"Ma'am," he said, soft but firm, placing a respectful hand on her shoulder, "these blossoms are beautiful and your kindness has value."
"But Commander…" she protested, finger brushing a petal. "This bouquet wouldn't cost more than one gold."ȚHe grinned down gently. "Accept the rest as thanks—for your care."
Her cheeks warmed, and she clutched the coin purse. "Thank you, Commander. I'll wish you safe passage."
He inclined his head and lifted his cane. "Farewell."
He stepped back onto the street, the bouquet held carefully before him, white petals illuminated by lantern glow.
Scene: Cemetery by Moonlight
The cemetery lay tucked behind the chapel, grass overgrown, tombstones leaning gently under time's weight. A few lanterns dotted the paths, revealing mossy inscriptions.
Toki paused at a tarnished stone: Henry Edmund, Beloved Father & Knight. He knelt, knuckles brushing grass, and laid the bouquet at the base. His flickering candle ignited in the windless night.
"Rest well," he whispered, touch light on the marble. "May your memory guide your son."
He paused, breathing in the soft scent of night-air and lilies. Then, beneath the flickering lantern light—and his gaze—he saw a figure step from the shadows: slender, robed in shades of gray, face concealed by clown-like makeup, but eyes unmistakably.
Toki stood slowly, heart pounding. The man bowed low, cane silent on the earth.
"I wondered if you would come,.....Ozvold Edmund" Toki murmured.