The Dawnspire Relay Station stood on the highest peak of the Silverridge Mountains, a needle-thin spire of white marble and obsidian that caught the first and last light of every day. From its summit, jade transmission arrays pointed in eight directions, linking the western provinces to the heart of the Umbral Rose Covenant — the Rose Enclave itself.
Huo Tan arrived at dusk.
He had flown the distance on his personal void-step artifact, a black lotus platform that left no trail in the qi currents. Realm 9 cultivators did not tire easily, but the weight of the scroll tube in his sleeve felt heavier than any mountain.
The relay master — a thin woman named Lady Isolde Veyne, Realm 8 — met him at the upper platform. Her silver hair was bound in a severe knot, eyes sharp as thorns.
"Elder Huo. You come in person. That is… unusual."
"Some matters do not trust jade slips alone," he replied.
She studied him for a heartbeat, then gestured toward the inner chamber.
"Follow."
The transmission hall was circular, walls lined with glowing rose-vine carvings that pulsed softly. In the center stood the primary array: a massive crystal rose suspended in mid-air, petals unfolding like living glass. It could carry a message — voice, image, qi imprint — across continents in moments.
Isolde placed her palm on the array's base. The petals flared violet.
"Direct to the Enclave's Inner Council?" she asked.
"Yes."
A low hum filled the chamber. The rose bloomed fully, projecting a faint holographic veil. Through it appeared three figures seated at a long obsidian table.
Lady Seraphina Blackthorn, First Thorn of the Umbral Rose, sat at the center. Realm 11 – Dominion Sovereign. Her dark gown shimmered with embedded shadow threads; her face was ageless, beautiful in the way winter is beautiful — cold, precise, unforgiving.
To her left: Lord Cassian Thorne, Second Thorn, Realm 10 – Dominion King. Broad-shouldered, scarred from old border wars, eyes like polished onyx.
To her right: Lady Elara Voss, Third Thorn, Realm 10 – Dominion King. Younger, sharper, known for her ruthless diplomacy among the lesser kingdoms.
Huo Tan bowed deeply — fist to palm, the old imperial courtesy few still used.
"First Thorn, Second Thorn, Third Thorn. I bring a sealed report from Ashfall Outpost."
Seraphina's voice cut through the projection like a blade through silk.
"Speak plainly, Elder Huo. You would not cross half the province for a routine qi fluctuation."
Huo Tan straightened.
"Last night, a spatial tear appeared above the outpost. Violet-black, unnatural qi signature. It carried whispers — layered, multiple voices — speaking of tyranny, false order, the Ladder cracking, and… the sovereign's children forgetting his face."
Cassian leaned forward. "The sovereign?"
Huo Tan nodded once. "A disciple — sixteen years, Ember Vein realm — lost control. In panic and rage, he spoke the forbidden name aloud."
The chamber went still.
Elara's fingers tightened on the table edge. "And the response?"
"Thunder," Huo Tan said. "From nowhere. Pressure across the outpost. Lanterns dimmed. Shadows moved against reason. The tear sealed instantly. The boy's memory of the utterance was erased — clean, surgical. No other casualties. But the qi in the region remains… unsettled. Faint deviations in the ley lines. Nothing overt, yet."
Seraphina's gaze never wavered.
"You are certain of the name spoken?"
"I heard it myself. And felt the answer."
A long silence followed.
Cassian broke it first. "The Mandate has not stirred in ten thousand years. Legends say when the name is spoken in true intent, the Palace listens. Always."
"Legends," Elara murmured, "or history we have conveniently forgotten."
Seraphina raised a hand. The others stilled.
"Elder Huo. Did the whispers carry any signature? Any trace of origin?"
"Not chaos qi from the ancient era," he answered. "Something colder. More deliberate. Like… a probe. Testing."
Seraphina's eyes narrowed fractionally.
"Very well. Transmit the full report and jade slip. Lock the relay array behind triple wards. No word of this leaves the Enclave until we decide."
Huo Tan bowed again.
"As you command, First Thorn."
The projection faded. The rose petals closed slowly.
Isolde looked at Huo Tan with something close to pity.
"You may rest here tonight. But tomorrow… return to Ashfall. And pray this is the last anomaly."
Huo Tan said nothing.
He stepped out onto the platform.
The wind carried the faint scent of roses — and beneath it, something older, colder.
Far to the east, the distant silver-white gleam of the Mandate remained unchanged.
But if one looked very carefully — with eyes sharpened by centuries — the runes along the visible edge of the hilt seemed to glow just a fraction brighter than the night before.
And in the Rose Enclave's deepest vault, where forbidden scrolls were kept under triple-layered formations, a single ancient parchment trembled faintly in its sealed case.
The ink on it — written ten thousand years ago — read:
When the name is spoken again, the Mandate will remember.