12-14-2025, 07:56 PM
Seraphis went to bed that night blissfully pleased with herself, the feeling settling in her chest like the gentle, steady heat of a well-banked coal fire. She had secured an Ember. Not just any Ember, but one with potential Aethermancer strength now bound to the Sanctuary's codex.
Her meticulous nature demanded order. Before allowing herself the luxury of sleep, she dispatched a concise, triumphant message to Quillon, already tasting the sweet envy he would feel. Then came the required due diligence: documenting Nora’s ascension, noting the precise moment she claimed the Ember’s spark. Seraphis then plunged into the digital archives, running a deep search on Nora Saint-Clair’s initial entry into the Brotherhood's orbit.
The historical records were strangely sparse, a jagged gap in the otherwise smooth tapestry of their documentation. Nora’s file contained little more than a timestamp and a single cryptic line: Entered Veil. Departed. No attending Veilwarden was specifically listed, no detailed notes on her immediate channeling experience. She had appeared one day, brushed against the raw power of the Veil, and vanished, a loose thread the Sanctuary had failed to catch. It was untidy, and untidiness chafed at Seraphis.
She made sure to flag this anomaly for the Luminar’s personal review. Ordinarily, a promising Seeker only warranted the attention of a senior Veilwarden, but an Ember with unexplained power fluctuation and a sudden, enthusiastic return? That was a signature that demanded the highest notice. Seraphis wrote her summary with professional clarity, emphasizing the irregularity of the previous visit and the unexpected depth of Nora’s subsequent commitment.
The response arrived almost immediately, pinging her Wallet with a crisp notification tone that always made her pulse quicken. The Luminar’s message was a single, concise phrase:
A shock of pure, joyous pride ran through her. This wasn't merely validation; it was a physical dose of the warmth she craved, a confirmation that her tireless service and eye for potential had been seen and acknowledged by the man who held her deepest loyalty. She swiftly saved a screenshot of the words to her Wallet, a small, luminous prize to revisit later. She smiled into the darkness, the thought of Quillon’s grumpy reaction in the morning already sweeter than the best cup of coffee.
Her meticulous nature demanded order. Before allowing herself the luxury of sleep, she dispatched a concise, triumphant message to Quillon, already tasting the sweet envy he would feel. Then came the required due diligence: documenting Nora’s ascension, noting the precise moment she claimed the Ember’s spark. Seraphis then plunged into the digital archives, running a deep search on Nora Saint-Clair’s initial entry into the Brotherhood's orbit.
The historical records were strangely sparse, a jagged gap in the otherwise smooth tapestry of their documentation. Nora’s file contained little more than a timestamp and a single cryptic line: Entered Veil. Departed. No attending Veilwarden was specifically listed, no detailed notes on her immediate channeling experience. She had appeared one day, brushed against the raw power of the Veil, and vanished, a loose thread the Sanctuary had failed to catch. It was untidy, and untidiness chafed at Seraphis.
She made sure to flag this anomaly for the Luminar’s personal review. Ordinarily, a promising Seeker only warranted the attention of a senior Veilwarden, but an Ember with unexplained power fluctuation and a sudden, enthusiastic return? That was a signature that demanded the highest notice. Seraphis wrote her summary with professional clarity, emphasizing the irregularity of the previous visit and the unexpected depth of Nora’s subsequent commitment.
The response arrived almost immediately, pinging her Wallet with a crisp notification tone that always made her pulse quicken. The Luminar’s message was a single, concise phrase:
Luminar Wrote:Good work.
A shock of pure, joyous pride ran through her. This wasn't merely validation; it was a physical dose of the warmth she craved, a confirmation that her tireless service and eye for potential had been seen and acknowledged by the man who held her deepest loyalty. She swiftly saved a screenshot of the words to her Wallet, a small, luminous prize to revisit later. She smiled into the darkness, the thought of Quillon’s grumpy reaction in the morning already sweeter than the best cup of coffee.
![[Image: Seraphis-signature.jpg]](https://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/12/Seraphis-signature.jpg)