“Rise,” I command.
My voice carries easily across the marble.
They obey at once.
Auryn studies the mechanisms with sharp, analytical focus. Her attention shifts through the Bond—the same spark that ignites whenever she encounters a problem waiting to be solved.
I have commented on this before, but this entire structure is flawed.
I almost smile.
The ceremony?
The engineering. The leylines at the base are expected to pull on the entire chain of gears, but the higher the mana travels from the mages, the thinner it is. There is simply not enough force.
Her gaze moves across the control rings where the mages stand ready to cast.
Six mages to regulate the rotation of a single gear. The energy loss alone is absurd.
I keep my eyes forward.
Careful,I reply.The Priests already speak against you with enthusiasm.
Her response carries the faintest trace of dry amusement.
And yet I still worry about their health.
Your compassion is profoundly inconvenient for them.
One of the leading High Priests raises his staff.
‘Your Quintessence,’he signs.‘We await your command.’
I step forward until the immense gears loom above me. Morvane hums as the runes along my spine awaken, reacting to the dormant magic coiled within the machinery.
“Begin the Turning.”
My command moves through the plaza like a dropped stone through water.
Six mages step forward and place their hands upon the control rings. Runes ignite beneath their palms, flooding the engraved channels with light as they feed power into the ancient mechanism.
The gears answer with a deep metallic groan. The grating sound rolls outward through the Endless Dark like a living thing, striking the stone vaults of the cavern ceiling and returning again in thunderous echoes that ripple through the city.
One by one, the massive rings begin to rotate. Above us, the mirrors shift by fractions of a degree, adjusting their alignment toward the unseen sun far above the surface opening.
The movement must remain slow. Too much light at once would blind the city after months of darkness.
Auryn watches the mechanism for several long moments before speaking again.
This could be completed in minutes.
And half the population would walk into walls for a week. Or lose their sight entirely.
Only if the mirrors remain unwarded. If there was a filter—
I am about to answer when the sound begins.
It starts as a faint vibration beneath my boots.
