The warriors and elders sat in a solemn circle, their faces illuminated by the ethereal glow of the subspace sky. Aelric stood before them, arms crossed, his sharp eyes studying each of them in turn.

  “Now that we have time,” he said, voice steady, “tell me everything. From the Order, to your history, to everything you know.”

  A heavy silence followed his words. Then, Erasmus, the eldest among them, let out a long breath and nodded.

  “Our story begins long after the Order had already rooted itself in the world.”

  The warriors, known as the Veilborn, listened with the same reverence they had been raised with, their gazes locked onto Erasmus as he continued.

  “We were not among the first civilizations. We were once scattered people, those without a land to call home, remnants of fallen kingdoms and broken clans. We lived on the edges of the world, always running, always hiding.”

  Selene, another elder, picked up where he left off. “It was then that one man changed everything—our ancestor, Azar Kaelith. He was once a soldier, a warrior who fought in the wars of a nameless kingdom that was crushed beneath the Order’s will. He survived when his comrades did not. He lived, while his home was erased from history.”

  Aelric remained silent, absorbing every word.

  “Azar wandered for years, witnessing the suffering of those who had lost everything to the Order’s rule. The starving, the enslaved, the forgotten. And he knew then that the Order was not an unshakable truth—it was simply an enemy no one had yet been able to defeat.”

  Erasmus’ expression darkened. “But he was just one man. He had no power, no allies. So, he sought out those who still clung to their will to fight. He gathered the desperate, the exiled, the defiant. He gave them purpose when they had none. And for a time, they fought back.”

  Aelric’s gaze sharpened. “A rebellion?”

  Selene shook her head. “Not quite. They were never foolish enough to think they could openly challenge the Order. Instead, they became something else—ghosts in the shadows, warriors without a home, a force that could not be easily erased.”

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  But the Order was not blind. They sent their enforcers, their hunters, and their warriors. One by one, Azar’s people were slaughtered.

  “He tried to find a place where the Order could not reach them,” Erasmus said. “A place where they could be free. But nowhere was safe.”

  That was when he stumbled upon her—the Unknown Goddess.

  “In his final attempt to find sanctuary, Azar led his people deep into the ancient lands below the surface. It is said he did not know where he was going, only that something guided him forward. And there, by sheer chance or fate, he found a ruin unlike any other—the temple of the Unknown Goddess.”

  The Veilborn warriors bowed their heads in reverence, for this was the very foundation of their existence. Kaela, who had grown up with these stories, merely crossed her arms and listened with quiet respect. She already knew this history, but for Aelric, this was his first time hearing it from their perspective.

  “And he survived her trial,” Aelric said, already knowing the answer.

  Erasmus nodded solemnly. “Yes. Azar Kaelith was the first. And no one knows what he saw, only that he emerged forever changed.”

  Aelric already knew what the Unknown Goddess had granted Azar: a home for his people, a sanctuary hidden from the Order’s reach. But hearing the story firsthand from those who had lived under the weight of that history gave it a new depth.

  Selene’s voice was quiet but firm. “She gave him what he asked for, but at a cost. She spent half her remaining power to create a land that could sustain life beneath the surface, veiled from the outside world. She set up barriers, concealed the city from detection, and filled the outer ruins with traps and monstrous guardians to deter intruders.”

  “She gave them a home,” Aelric murmured, recalling what the Goddess had told him herself. “And now, she has given me her home in return.”

  Erasmus nodded. “It was her last great act before she faded into slumber. And in return, Azar vowed that his descendants would never let her sacrifice be in vain.”

  Aelric exhaled. “So that’s how this place came to be.”

  “But Azar knew that survival was not victory,” Erasmus said gravely. “He understood that if they remained hidden forever, the Order would one day find them. And so, he prepared.”

  He trained them. He forged warriors.

  “Every fighter who could be raised, every swordsman, every spear-wielder, every defender of this place—they all swore to protect what had been given to them.”

  But he knew it was not enough.

  “He sent warriors into the world, seeking knowledge, power, anything that could give them an advantage against the Order.”

  None ever returned.

  Silence followed those words.

  Kaela’s expression remained steady, unlike Aelric, who narrowed his eyes. “If none came back… why keep sending them?”

  Erasmus sighed. “Because whispers remained. There was a legend. A story of a village—deep in a distant forest—where warriors of the Order would march… and never return.”

  Aelric’s eyes narrowed. “A village?”

  Selene nodded. “They say it is a place untouched by the Order’s influence. That something—or someone—protects it.”

  Aelric considered the information. If such a place truly existed, then it was proof that there was something beyond the Order’s reach.

  Erasmus folded his hands together. “The legend states that only those who seek something greater than themselves will find it.”

  Aelric glanced at Veyne, then at Kaela.

  “Then perhaps that is exactly what we must seek next.”

  The firelight flickered in their eyes, illuminating the weight of the path before them.

  Chapter 15 ends