At the very dawn of time, when the world was still young and unmarred, there existed two beings of incomprehensible power, a man and a woman, two deities who stood above all creation. One was Adam, the god of warmth and fire, whose essence blazed with the fierce intensity of a thousand suns. The other was Eve, the goddess of cold, whose touch could freeze the very air itself into crystalline perfection. Together, in a union of opposing forces, they created all of mankind, breathing life into clay and spirit into flesh, ruling over their creations as the undisputed gods of this new world.
The children born from the people crafted by Eve's divine hands would emerge into the world bearing hair as white as fresh-fallen snow, a mark of her careful attention and blessing upon each soul. In stark contrast, the children descended from Adam's creations would be born with hair of every conceivable color, fiery reds, deep browns, golden blondes, midnight blacks, every shade except white. This rainbow of colors showcased Adam's careless indifference toward his descendants, his lack of personal investment in those who carried his legacy forward through the generations.
For countless years, the two gods ruled the world together in perfect unison, in harmony. Day followed night, warmth embraced cold, and humanity flourished beneath their balanced reign. Until, inevitably and catastrophically, it all changed.
Adam, consumed by an insatiable hunger for absolute power, started a war that would reshape the fate of all existence. His desire was simple yet devastating, he wanted to be the one and only god, to stand alone at the pinnacle of divine authority. With ruthless determination, he used his descendants as weapons, striking war upon Eve and her beloved people. This war dragged on for many long, bitter years, and countless humans, innocent souls caught between warring gods perished in the chaos and destruction that followed.
But that death toll would prove to be nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the cataclysm that erupted when Adam finally beat down Eve in their final confrontation and attempted to steal her divine power for himself. He was too selfish, too consumed by his own greed to understand the fundamental danger of his actions. Eve's power, never meant to be contained by a single being, consumed him from within. The resulting implosion released an uncontrollable surge of her frozen essence, killing Adam instantly and plunging the entire world into an eternal and relentless winter that would go on to exterminate most of humanity in the brutal years that followed.
The fortunate ones who survived the initial years of that merciless cold began the slow, arduous process of rebuilding with the help of Eve herself. Wracked with guilt over the destruction her power had caused, the goddess worked alongside her surviving descendants to construct massive domes, protective structures that could keep out the killing cold, sanctuaries where humanity could rebuild itself step by painstaking step. And now over 300 years later, 20 of these magnificent domes have been built housing over 100,000 people in each. Meanwhile, the descendants of Adam were left abandoned to freeze in the very cold that their god and their ancestors' war had created, a cruel but fitting punishment for their role in the world's destruction.
"And thanks to Goddess Eve, we are blessed to be sitting here in this classroom in Dome 6 right now," the history teacher concluded, his voice carrying a note of reverence as it always did when he spoke of their divine protector.
RING.
The sharp sound of the bell signaling the end of class cut through the air.
"Alright everyone, on to your next class," the teacher called out loudly as students immediately began gathering their belongings, creating the familiar commotion of scraping chairs and shuffling feet. "And remember, we have a test tomorrow, so make sure you're here or it will count as a failing grade!"
"Oh, and Cael!"
Cael Vandrel looked up from the small group of friends he'd been chatting with, his attention shifting to the teacher who had called his name with unusual gravity.
"The Archon is here in the office and wants to see you."
His friends immediately turned to stare at him with knowing glints dancing in their eyes and teasing smirks spreading across their faces. "Ohhhhh, you're in trouble," they sang out in unison, their voices dripping with mock concern.
Cael sighed deeply, purposefully ignoring his stupid friends as he began making his way toward the classroom door. "Yes, sir," he responded to his teacher with practiced politeness, his voice flat and resigned as he walked out of the room and into the hallway beyond.
Archons were the third tier in the strict hierarchy that governed the domes, first came Eve herself, second the High Seraphic Council, and then the Archons who administered individual domes. Think of them as mayors or governors, wielding considerable authority over every aspect of dome life. Under normal circumstances, getting summoned to the office by an Archon would have any student absolutely terrified, practically shitting themselves with anxiety. Archons would usually never have reason to personally call for a student unless the situation was extraordinarily serious, possibly life-altering. But for Cael Vandrel, this was decidedly not the case.
The boy walked through the familiar hallways of his academy with his characteristic slight hunch, his shoulders rolled forward as if carrying an invisible weight. His skin was pale, as was typical of most Eve descendants, bearing the mark of their divine ancestor's frozen touch. His white hair hung just above his eyes, falling in messy strands that he rarely bothered to properly style. Those eyes, white and seemingly dull, devoid of the spark most teenagers possessed, stared straight ahead as he navigated the corridor. He was skinny and seemingly unathletic, his frame almost lost within the formal military school-style black uniform decorated with sharp red highlights that all students were required to wear.
He walked with measured steps until finally turning a corner and entering the main office, where a large and intimidatingly muscular pale man stood waiting. The man had a short white military cut that emphasized the strong lines of his face, and a large, defining scar ran prominently across his weathered features, unmistakably the Archon himself. Or, as Cael knew him...
"Hi, Dad," he said with very little enthusiasm, his tone as flat as the endless white tundra beyond the dome walls.
The man looked down at Cael with a stern expression, his imposing figure dressed in an elegant yet casual black and red military-style outfit that incorporated subtle church-inspired design elements, high collar, ornate buttons, formal lines that spoke of both authority and devotion and three red stripes along his chest marking him a Archon.
"Hello, son. Your mother and I have been summoned to Dome 5 by the Archon there for an important meeting," his father announced.
Cael sighed internally. 'Here we go again.' He looked up at his father with that familiar sort of emptiness that had become his default expression over the years. "So you'll be gone for a week or so? I get it. Don't worry, I'll be fine by myself. I'm used to it by now."
His father stared at him for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind those stern eyes, before a small smirk unexpectedly crossed his scarred face. "No, son… you're coming with us."
Cael recoiled slightly in genuine shock, his usual composed demeanor cracking. "W-what!? Are you serious? Why?" The questions tumbled out before he could stop them.
His father's serious expression immediately resumed its place on his weathered face, all traces of amusement vanishing like frost in sunlight. "Because you are fifteen now, Cael. If you are to be Archon of this dome one day, you need to start learning how all of this works. So get ready, our train leaves in an hour."
A/N: Hey guys! my name is abtho, and this is my new novel! I really put a lot into this one, so I hope you all enjoy!