The air on the other side of the portal was cold — not from temperature, but from age.
Zaxton stepped into a world where gravity whispered differently, where the skies churned with celestial rivers and floating continents glowed like lanterns in the dusk. His dragon, Draknyr, roared not in dominance, but in reverence.
> This was the Third Realm.
And even Zaxton, breaker of empires and founder of a nation, felt… small.
---
A Moon Descends
He wasn't alone.
Within moments, the heavens rippled. A silhouette descended — cloaked in white flame, barefoot upon a golden platform that hovered effortlessly. No aura of hostility. No bluster. Just gravity-defying presence.
> "Zaxton of Don," the figure said, bowing at the waist.
"I am Lunaris Teth'Vaar, Keeper of the Tenth Moon."
Zaxton raised a brow. "A moon?"
Lunaris smiled, faint lines of starlight tracing across his skin.
> "Here, we do not have emperors or sect lords. We have Moons. Twelve, to represent the natural order. I am one of them — but not your judge. Only your greeter."
Zaxton stood silent, observing. Lunaris continued.
> "We've watched you rise. You remind us of a time when greatness meant responsibility. You will be observed here… not opposed. That is the Third Realm's way."
---
The Third Realm — A Higher Game
Lunaris guided him across the skies on the glowing platform. Below, cities floated on radiant stone, tethered by vines of spirit energy. Giant beasts flew in formation alongside stormships.
> "Unlike the First and Second Realm," Lunaris explained,
"power is not hoarded here, nor is influence wielded like a dagger."
Zaxton frowned. "Then what do you call the game here?"
Lunaris' smile turned sharp.
> "Chess. With pieces so old, they forgot the board."
Zaxton chuckled at that.
They arrived at a floating island temple — Sanctum Arkenis, where newcomers were to declare their intent.
---
Not Petty, But Patient
Zaxton quickly learned the truth.
The Third Realm wasn't free of ambition. It simply refined it into elegance. Disputes were resolved by feats of cultivation, not sabotage. Alliances formed over bloodline potential and ideological compatibility, not mere territory.
The "pettiness" of the lower realms was seen here as… immature art.
> "Your presence shakes this realm," Lunaris told him,
"but not because of your power. Because you still have momentum. Most here lost it long ago."
Zaxton knew then — this wasn't a warfront. It was a waiting room for titans.
---
Zaxton's Declaration
In the Sanctum Arkenis, Zaxton declared:
> "I do not seek dominion. I seek progress.
I carry the hopes of the First Realm, the strength of the Second, and the vision of a gatekeeper.
Let my works speak louder than my name."
The Moons listened. And while not all smiled, none laughed.
The Thirteenth Pillar
The golden platform carrying Zaxton slowed to a halt.
Before him loomed a hall unlike any in the First or Second Realms — the Hall of Moons, carved from starlight and shadow. It stretched beyond sight, an endless cathedral with a ceiling painted in living constellations, whispering prophecies in forgotten tongues.
Up high, twelve massive pillars rose along the inner walls, each carved from a different celestial material — obsidian, stardust, frozen lightning, and more. Each radiated a unique energy. These were not statues of gods.
> These were the Pillars of the Twelve Moons.
And they were watching.
---
The Unexpected Invitation
Zaxton stepped forward, not out of arrogance — but as one who had walked through storms and built nations with blistered hands. His dragon coiled silently in the sky above.
Lunaris, the Tenth Moon, spoke.
> "Ten thousand years have passed since the last moon was raised. In this time, balance has become complacency. Wisdom has turned to waiting. And the cracks are beginning to show."
He gestured to the pillars — which now vibrated with gentle resonance.
Another figure appeared. Her robe was made of nebula threads, her eyes twin eclipses.
> "I am Serika, Keeper of the Hidden Moon —
the one who saw this moment long before any of us would believe it."
She raised her hand. The air behind her shimmered… and a thirteenth pillar began to take shape. It wasn't carved from any one substance, but from flowing streams of living potential — unformed, adaptable, alive.
---
A New Moon Is Needed
Serika's voice echoed with the weight of prophecy.
> "In this realm, new ascendees are typically adopted.
Pulled into the orbit of a greater moon.
But you, Zaxton of Don, have gravity of your own."
She stepped forward, eyes narrowing.
> "There are powers coming — from beyond even the Third Realm. And our ancient ways will not hold against them.
We require not a new heir… but a new pillar.
One forged in the fire of change. Not bound by past alignments."
Zaxton's eyes flicked to the still-forming thirteenth column, pulsing in rhythm with his heart.
> "Are you asking me to become… a Moon?"
Serika smiled. "No. I am telling you that you already are."
---
The Vote of the Moons
Tradition demanded a vote.
Each of the Twelve Moons manifested — ethereal beings of immense power, each representing a fundamental principle of reality. Time. Memory. Death. Creation. Harmony. Storm. Even Void.
One by one, they cast their voice into the Hall.
> "Aye."
"Let it be so."
"He has carved realms with will alone."
"We must prepare for what lies beyond."
Only one abstained — the Moon of Preservation. But none opposed.
The thirteenth pillar solidified.
> Zaxton, Moon of Dominion, was born.
---
A Realm Changed Forever
The ripples were immediate. Across the Third Realm, ancient sects stirred. Elders who had not moved in centuries opened their eyes. Starbeasts howled at unseen tides. The sky briefly dimmed — as if to acknowledge the rise of a new force.
Zaxton turned toward Serika, his voice steady.
> "Then let this Moon rise not to rule…
but to ready us for what's coming."
The Burden of Dominion
The air in the Hall of Moons shifted—no longer regal, but reverent.
Just as Zaxton turned from the thirteenth pillar, ready to begin shaping his new path, Lunaris, the Tenth Moon, raised a hand.
> "Zaxton. You misunderstand."
His voice was not scolding, but heavy with ancient weight. The other Moons, robed in cosmic light, stood taller, casting shadows that stretched into eternity.
> "You were not chosen merely to prepare us."
"You were created to command us—if ever we lost our way."
Zaxton's brow furrowed.
Serika, the Seventh Moon, stepped forward, eyes shimmering like twin eclipses.
> "The Moons are powerful, yes. Timeless, even. But we are not infallible.
In the past, we nearly tore the Realms apart with pride and infighting."
She glanced to the stars above, veiled by the great dome of the chamber.
> "From that age came a secret vow:
If the Moons falter, one among us must rise to restore balance."
> "A Moon of Dominion. Of Judgment. You."
---
The Path Before the Throne
Zaxton held their gazes, but did not yet speak.
That was when Kaelor, the Fifth Moon, spoke—a voice like shifting glaciers.
> "But this mantle is not yet yours to fully bear."
> "A Dominion Moon must be more than strong — he must be sovereign. A force unto himself."
> "So we advise this, Zaxton of Don: form your own dominion."
Serika continued gently.
> "Build your domain within the Third Realm. Raise your power. Gather allies and soldiers who will answer only to you."
> "When you stand as tall as any of us—when your name rings louder than fear—then you may take your place at the main table, not as a peer, but as the Thirteenth Pillar."
---
The Hidden Crown
Zaxton stepped forward, the storm behind his eyes intensifying.
> "So I am to grow quietly, until I am the one you can no longer ignore."
> "Until the day comes when I may have to correct even the heavens?"
Serika did not flinch.
> "That is exactly what we hope you'll never have to do.
But if we fail… someone must."
The other Moons lowered their heads in unity.
Even the Moon of Time whispered: "He must be the blade beneath the veil."
---
The Oath of Dominion
The thirteenth pillar pulsed, accepting Zaxton's silent vow. A sigil carved itself into its marble — not of the current age, but from the ancient bloodlines of Don. A mark once worn by those who stood between Realms.
Zaxton placed a hand to it.
> "Then I accept. I will build quietly. Grow deliberately.
And if ever this Realm forgets its duty, I will remind it what balance costs."
Above them, the stars dimmed.
A new moon appeared beside the twelve — slender and cloaked in thunder, its light not yet fully formed, but undeniable.
> A storm had joined the sky.