Chapter 3: Envoy of the Light
The next morning, Jean was summoned to the Hall of Ascension.
It was a solemn place—no banners, no flames, only white stone etched with names of the dead: Envoy Knights who had given their lives in the defense of the realm. The silence pressed like stone upon her shoulders.
She stood at the center, alone but not unobserved.
High above, on the mezzanine, sat the inner council of the Luther Clan—elders, Envoy commanders, battle-scarred and sharp-eyed. And in the highest seat, carved from the bones of a dragon slain by Martin Luther himself, sat Charles Luther.
His presence alone made the air feel thinner.
"Jean Luther," his voice rang like a hammer. "You have passed the final trial. You are now qualified to begin the two-year Assessment to earn your place among the Envoy Knights. But a new development demands we amend tradition."
Jean lifted her gaze, silent.
"Reveal your mark," Charles commanded.
Word had reached even him.
Jean turned and pulled down her collar once more. Gasps rippled through the council.
The mark of Celeste glowed bright gold, pulsing gently like a heartbeat.
"She has been chosen…" one of the elders whispered. "A true Emissary."
Charles raised a hand and silence fell. He stood, slowly descending the stair with the weight of centuries in each step. When he reached Jean, he looked not at her eyes—but at her soul.
"I knew it would be one of you," he muttered. "But I hoped it wouldn't be you."
Jean held her breath.
"You are no longer merely a daughter of this Clan, Jean. You are now humanity's shield… and its last light."
He stepped back, and with a nod, the doors at the far end of the hall opened.
From the shadow beyond stepped a beast of myth.
Whitney.
A dire wolf, as tall as a horse, fur as white as frost and eyes like burning stars. Divine. Eternal. The guardian of the Emissary of Light.
Every elder dropped to one knee.
Jean did not flinch. She took a step forward. Whitney lowered its head in silence—and she laid a hand upon its crown.
A wave of energy surged through her, warm and infinite, as if a thousand suns had been lit inside her chest. Her aura burst outward in a flare of golden light that washed over the entire hall.
Charles shielded his eyes.
"It's begun," he said grimly. "The Emissaries awaken… the dragons will follow."
Jean turned to the council. She no longer felt like a student. She no longer felt small.
"I accept the Assessment," she said. "Not for your approval. But because the world needs its sword."
Whitney growled low and proud beside her.
Charles gave a single, solemn nod.
"Then ride, Jean Luther. Ride far. In two years, return as a knight—or do not return at all."
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Far across the sea…
On the floating island of Aetherion, where the Magistery cast its great spells to monitor the world, Erin Magus stood before a vast arcane mirror. Her son, Ryan Magus, approached, cloaked in robes of silver flame.
"She's awakened," Erin murmured, watching the image of Jean and her guardian.
Ryan's lips curled into a faint smile. "The Emissary of Light."
Erin's eyes narrowed.
"Then we'll have to move faster."
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