The heavy iron gates of the Vanguard Palace remained sealed to the outside world 364 days a year.
Only on the night of the annual Moon Festival did the ancient mechanisms turn. For a single day, the iron gates opened just enough to allow a highly exclusive, chosen group of individuals inside to pay their respects to the empire's ultimate shields. No one was allowed to linger. The moment the festival ended, the palace was purged of all visitors.
For Samuel, that one day was the only day he truly lived.
Every year, as the autumn moon hung full and bright over the capital, the pale scholar in white robes would walk past the silent Shadow Knights. He would traverse the dark stone corridors and enter the inner cemetery sanctum.
He would kneel on the cold marble floor in front of the newest golden chest. Resting gently against the magnificent tomb was a small, perfectly painted portrait of a woman with cold, dark eyes and a brilliant, terrifying smirk.
