Lucas and Garran stepped through the gates and into the territory of the Creed Mountain Order.
It was far larger than either of them had anticipated.
Beyond the entrance, the land opened into a vast inner sanctum. Terraced gardens spread out in layered rings, filled with unfamiliar plants that shimmered faintly under the sunlight. The air itself felt cleaner, lighter, carrying a subtle energy that soothed the mind without being overwhelming.
Garran suddenly stopped and placed a firm hand on Lucas's shoulder.
"Wait, young master."
Before Lucas could ask why, the wind shifted.
A powerful gust descended from above, pressing down like a wave. In the next instant, a figure appeared before them, having descended from the sky as if gravity itself had yielded.
A middle-aged man in formal Order robes landed lightly on the stone path.
Lucas recognized him immediately.
High Master Aurelius.
"Welcome to the Creed Mountain Order," Aurelius said warmly, a calm smile on his face.
"The pleasure is mine, Order Master," Lucas replied, returning the smile.
Aurelius studied him for a moment, then nodded. "You must be Lucas Drakebane. The last time I saw you, you were barely ten. You've grown."
"Well," Lucas said lightly, "time has a habit of doing that."
Aurelius stroked his beard thoughtfully, his gaze sharpening. His perception reached beyond the physical, brushing against Lucas's presence. What he sensed was… stillness. Calm, controlled, like a lake undisturbed by wind.
When he turned his attention to Garran, however, his sight was abruptly halted, as though an invisible veil blocked him completely.
Interesting.
"We came hoping to speak with you," Garran said, folding his arms. "If you have the time."
"Of course," Aurelius replied. "Walk with me."
He turned, leading them deeper into the Order.
Along the way, Lucas noticed rows of rare flora lining the paths. Each plant radiated a gentle, refined energy. Young disciples moved carefully among them, tending the gardens with deliberate motions.
"You may think they're simply gardening," Aurelius said suddenly, glancing at Lucas. "But do you see what they're truly doing?"
Lucas observed quietly for a moment before answering.
"They're cultivating balance," he said. "Not forcing growth, not extracting power. They nurture life, and in return, life nourishes them. It's an exchange, not a theft."
Aurelius stopped walking.
He turned slowly, staring at Lucas in disbelief.
That wasn't the answer of a pampered noble.
"That's… quite an insight," Aurelius said after a pause.
Lucas smiled faintly. "It's just how the world works. Everything exists in relation. When you give without restraint, you lose. When you only take, you rot. Balance is the only sustainable path."
For a long moment, Aurelius said nothing.
Then he chuckled softly and resumed walking, this time falling into step beside Lucas.
"I misjudged you," he admitted. "Many heirs of powerful families mistake privilege for wisdom. You don't."
Lucas just smiled. He hadn't chosen his words randomly.
People like Aurelius respected principles more than power.
Garran glanced at Lucas, surprise flickering in his eyes.
He remembered the young master as reckless, volatile. Someone who once, in a drunken rage, had ended a life without hesitation.
This Lucas felt… different.
Calmer. Sharper.
More dangerous, perhaps.. but in a controlled way.
"It seems we should not waste time," Aurelius said suddenly.
He raised a hand.
A soft hum rippled through the air.
Three ornate rugs drifted down from above, unfurling midair before coming to a gentle halt in front of them, just above the ground. Each was woven with intricate geometric patterns, the fabric shimmering faintly as if threaded with light itself.
Aurelius stepped onto one and sat down calmly, crossing his legs with ease.
"Sit," he said. "This will be faster."
Lucas and Garran followed, settling onto the remaining rugs. The surface beneath them felt firm yet weightless, supporting their bodies effortlessly.
The moment they were seated, the rugs lifted smoothly into the air. There was no jolt, no turbulence. They simply rose, gliding upward toward the Temple Peak as the mountain receded below.
"These sky rugs," Aurelius said as they rose, "are gifts from the Ma'at Order in Ptolemaic Egypt."
Lucas glanced down at the woven patterns beneath him, curiosity stirring. It was the first time he had ridden a moving rug, something he had only ever seen in stories like Aladdin. He never thought it would be real here.
"Egypt oversees many Orders," Aurelius went on. "Ma'at focuses on spatial craft and long-lasting enchantments. Their work isn't flashy, but it's dependable."
Garran nodded slowly. "No visible mana flow."
"Exactly," Aurelius replied. "They're designed for efficiency. Once activated, they require almost no maintenance."
The rugs passed through drifting clouds, the air growing cooler as they climbed.
---
They landed atop a massive structure rising above the clouds.
The Temple Peak.
It wasn't merely a building, it was a fortress-palace, vast enough to house an army, yet serene enough to feel untouched by the world below.
"This is my residence," Aurelius said as the swords dissolved into light. "And where the Order's elders convene."
He pushed open the towering doors.
Inside, the hall stretched wide, rows of elevated seats arranged in a semicircle. Figures sat quietly upon them, their gazes sharp and unreadable.
The elders had already been waiting.
Aurelius stepped aside.
"So," he said calmly, "what brings the Drakebane heir to the Creed Mountain Order?"