—Year 392 before the Ascension of the Celestial Monarch— Excerpt from the principles of the Ruby Codex.
There is no other truth than what I affirm. As above, so below; and as below, so above. Thus is how the laws govern. Just as everything arose from the Monad, just as from its single will, the entire expanse of the whole is created by the Monad through causality. Its father is the sun, the mother is the moon, the wind its vehicle, and the earth its nourishment. The Monad is all that is perfect. Its gifts are miraculous on earth. It separates the wet from the dry, the soft from the hard, the cold from the warm. It ascends from heaven to earth and descends from earth to heaven, and you shall be light and not darkness. Thus will shall be your fortress, as well as your weapon; it will protect you from fire and death, and it will penetrate the earth and the distance. This is how it works. From here arise the wonders of this world and of all the others. For that is my name: Vulcanelli, possessor of the wisdom of the three realms. All the mysteries of light have been unveiled.
Music blanketed the stage. A theater packed with people to the point it seemed ready to burst; a play was being performed in this place.
This play depicted an ancient king of Tara attempting to rebel against the Hegemony. To achieve his goal, he had enslaved a legendary Zhulong, one of the last descendants of the celestial dragons, but he was ultimately defeated by the Blood Rose Hegemon, who was said to have turned the entire battlefield into a blooming garden that consumed the blood of her enemies.
And now, the scene where the dragon was captured and defeated by the Hegemon with her bare hands was being performed. Obviously, the scene was dramatic and almost tragic; the Hegemon wore a loose tunic that bared her midriff and shoulders, while her face was covered by a smiling mask with a rose over the left eye.
"Who would have thought that woman would ultimately be known as the mother of all whores, the great harlot," grunted her companion with a sardonic smile.
She was a pale-skinned woman with golden hair. She had bewitching scarlet eyes, milk-white skin, and a delicate body without an ounce of fat or muscle, much like many of the Feys she had recently grown accustomed to.
"That is a legend with very little evidence," grunted a third person. She was a woman with a scholarly aura, a cold and emotionless face that simultaneously held a gaze full of intelligence, black hair, and healthy pink skin with a light white base of makeup on her face, making her look like a doll.
The performance was interesting in Jalida's eyes, even if perhaps the play's sources weren't the most accurate. Unfortunately, she couldn't speak to the director or to anyone, really.
After all, no one could see her.
"Are you perhaps bored by the play, Heraclio?" the veiled, green-haired woman asked curiously. The seer of Sasania was accustomed to matters of this nature, though the glory of her work had long since faded.
"Master," the man said lazily. He was covered in crimson armor and removed his helmet to reveal a grim yet attractive face, though with a severe expression and eyes filled with an intimidating aura and madness.
His mouth was open in a perpetual smile that he usually hid with his mask, for when he smiled he revealed the two terrifying rows of teeth typical of his species.
"It bores me beyond measure. I find gladiator spectacles or hunting grounds much more entertaining, or even the songs and dances of the Filiad seem more interesting to me," her servant replied bluntly.
"It seems you miss the Eastern Continent," Jalida said with a smile, averting her gaze back to the show. "In a way, I miss it too."
Her words somewhat surprised her guests.
She was no longer on the Eastern Continent, but on the island of Tesara, one of the richest islands of the Southern Continent, as well as one of its main commercial hubs. Here, it wasn't the Fey race that reigned supreme like in the East, but the Argenteans and Aureans.
The silver and gold races were the two most powerful races of the Southern Continent and, therefore, of practically the entire mortal realm, thanks to the Hegemony's dominion for thousands of years over much of the four continents. Although it was rare, at this point, for there not to be rebellions every few decades on each continent, not to mention that the hegemonies themselves died like cabbages in a field in battles or in conspiracies against them by their own men or competitors.
The silver and gold races, unlike the Feysir and Feynir, were not considered physically powerful nor did they possess great physical or magical swiftness, but they were races with vast vitality.
The silver race had received the gift of a long and fruitful life. Unlike the Fey, who could barely live a little over two centuries before showing signs of aging, the Argenteans (as they liked to call themselves) were granted a lifespan exceeding a millennium, even among those of the ninth generation. Furthermore, although they were not famous for their physical strength like the Feysir, their combat skills, martial prowess, and discipline were unparalleled during the glory days of the Consulate and the Hegemony.
And then there was the gold race, a race with the ability to mold reality to their whim.
And the woman beside her, with golden hair and an innocent appearance, could be considered part of that race, or at least she was in the past.
"Don't tell me you consider the Eastern Continent's entertainment superior to that of your own homeland, Jalida," said the golden-haired woman.
Her name was Stata Mater, a noble name of the highest class.
"I consider the spectacles of these lands degenerate, Stata," Jalida replied indifferently. "Obviously they have their charm, but the feeling of peace I experience in these lands where I was born pales in comparison to the true peace I feel in my second home."
"If the Hegemon heard you say that, he might destroy the oracle sooner than you anticipate," Stata said with a certain caution and sincere concern.
"Well, the current Hegemon has been in power for less than two decades and has already faced several invasions in the west. The integrity of the Hegemony is quite fragile and has shrunk and expanded in size throughout its thirty millennia of existence," commented the black-haired, makeup-wearing woman, Alamut.
"I am not asking about the geopolitical situation of the Hegemony, Alamut. Simply put, even if the Hegemony is in decline, a Hegemon is still a Hegemon. Even an Everlasting would be careful with them."
"Thirty millennia... what times, several things have changed in these thirty millennia of history," she replied while watching the spectacle, as did Stata, who apparently no longer had any interest in the conversation.
To which she thought while watching the show: Even so, the people are still quite content. I suppose that is what the phrase 'bread and circuses' ironically means.
Her eyes fell unconsciously onto the clothing worn by the women on stage, which was quite different from that of the East.
The noble women of the Eastern Continent were accustomed to wearing fur coats and dresses in primary colors, or black and white, and that was for the women most mindful of their image. In the case of the women of the gold and silver races, this was much more exaggerated.
Hairstyles decorated with dozens of accessories (if not hundreds), makeup and body paint, as well as balms that coated the skin, altering its tone and shine, and hairstyles of every imaginable style filled the entire hall. And the clothing was vastly different; instead of embroidered dresses or furs, they wore silk and cotton, and it was quite common to see garments that left little to the imagination, wearing at most a short open skirt and a blouse made of metal plates.
While thinking about this and growing bored of the absurdly dramatic play, filled with poetic metaphors and tragic words, her mind wandered to the surroundings, where she picked up several interesting conversations with her heightened senses.
"Have you heard about that woman? They say she's already gotten pregnant several times, but has aborted them all," murmured a female voice about thirteen meters away.
"I wonder how much an Easterner charges for a blowjob... I hope she doesn't mind spreading her legs for three other people," said another voice seventeen meters away.
"Hey, have you heard the rumors about the recent murders? They say it's related to the Quicksilvers," murmured a female voice that showed signs of terror, but also a strange fascination with that word.
"They are just rumors, but you're right. Even though the death of half-breeds isn't rare, I've already heard that a tenth-generation one died, murdered with his throat slit and his veins completely drained of blood."
"How scary," the woman whispered in a flirtatious tone in the distance. At this point, one didn't need super hearing to know what was going to happen next.
Isolating her senses, Jalida's gaze returned to the play, but not her thoughts, which raced toward a single word.
Quicksilver... she thought. Interesting. If I am not mistaken, they are members of the silver race who have been corrupted by desire and suffered a degeneration in their bloodline.
But before she could dwell on it further, the air in the room suddenly felt strangely heavy, and a severe yet sinister voice filled the space.
"So you were here, Stata. I didn't think you would dare to come near the continent again while you were still alive."
A figure emerged from the void in the room, tearing through the veil of darkness within. And yet, no one outside the room was able to detect any change or abnormality inside.
That was Jalida's doing. She called it the "spectator experiment," or rather, the Witnessless Barrier.
As long as no one outside the room looked in their direction and acknowledged their existence, they would remain invisible, even if a bystander's gaze passed superficially over them without focusing directly on them. Though obviously, that ability did not work on their visitor.
Tearing open space itself with her bare hands, her figure was revealed: a woman with platinum white hair and azure-toned skin, dressed in a ceremonial tunic adorned with gems and other esoteric ornaments. The figure was revealed to be crowned with a three-pronged straight tiara that ended in the shape of three stars.
Her four hands carried different treasures: a dagger, a bronze bowl, a silver key, and a scepter.
"Ops," Jalida said severely as her presence seemed to expand despite her harmless appearance. The woman was tall, measuring over three meters in height, with a divine figure and beauty.
And there she was, standing against her.
"Jalida, what a pleasure to have the last seer in my presence. Truly glorious; it makes my mission much simpler."
"Mission?" Jalida grunted coldly as she looked at the woman, who was the greatest exemplar of the silver race. Yet her blood was far from that of her current kin; her lineage was likely closer to the Sidhes than to her own race.
The silver race normally had silver hair, flesh and skin like lapis lazuli, and a supernatural beauty with a light in their gaze as if they were the most beautiful beings in creation (though well, that was their own description; they were an arrogant race, vain about their own perfection).
And now she stood before her with that brilliant look in her eyes.
"Yes, a mission," Ops said with a hint of mockery. "Or did you forget, seer, that the woman beside you no longer belongs to either the Aureans or the Argenteans? She no longer has the Hegemon's protection; she lost that with her own death."
"And does that loss of protection mean a second death for me?" Stata growled fiercely.
"No, but you need to be tested. Had you remained hidden in your own place, you might be right, but for now you have returned to the de facto territory of the Hegemony." The smile on Ops's face widened. "De facto, they have sent a consul who grants power over the eastern oceans and its islands."
"And the congress has decided whether to strip you of your seat as a legislator or let you keep it; after all, in life you were an optimates."
Stata frowned. Her expression morphed from anger to frustration and, finally, acceptance. "Then what do those old monsters want? Do they want me to return and marry one of their descendants, or do they want me to abandon the Hegemony completely?"
"There is no need for you to overthink it. The test is simple and its execution even more so," Ops replied.
"What do you mean?" Jalida asked suddenly, getting a bad feeling about all of this.
"Your head will be ours until you pass your test," Ops said with a wicked smile. "Meanwhile, the person who will administer it is someone you know."
Without dropping her smile, her gaze fell back on Jalida as she murmured: "That is why I was so glad to see you around here, Jalida. I suppose it is destiny."
Then the pressure from both sides erupted as Jalida stood up and the void trembled. But, even so, they did not fight. In an instant, Ops's figure vanished, leaving behind the following words:
"I hope your competition is entertaining; after all, it is your head that is at stake, Stata."
And like a sinister omen of those words, a scream escaped Stata's mouth.
At the same time, the play ended, with the beast decapitated and peace restored.
For now.