The Primeval Era-Chapter 56: The Saint of Stone I

The Lands of Stone were vast, stretching endlessly in every direction until the horizon swallowed them whole, but in these regions where the Unbound Tribes wandered ignorantly from mountain to mountain, the Vassal Tribes knew better.

They knew who ruled the reaches of the Lands of Stone nearby.

They knew of the Three Pillars of Stone.

There was the Dominion of Crimson Stone, located in the eastern reaches and centered on the Crown of Dawn, a cluster of seven sacred mountains that had once been the heart of a different empire entirely. The Dominion of Crimson Stone was formerly known as the Vakochev Empire before its fall eight summers ago, its name changed along with its rulers when blood painted the palace walls red and a new power rose from the ashes of the old.

It is ruled by Ensi Khorvash Valdrath, known throughout the Lands of Stone as "The Sainted Blade" or "The Murderous Saint," a man whose blade technique was so refined that shamans declared he fought with the grace of the Ancestors themselves, and whose ambition was so vast that he slaughtered an entire imperial bloodline to claim what he believed should be his.

Then there was the Obsidian Throne, located in the southern reaches where volcanic mountains belch smoke and molten stone bleeds from the earth like wounds that refuse to heal.

The Obsidian Throne is centered on the Burning Citadel built around an ancient volcano that has not erupted in three thousand years, and it stands as the oldest empire in the known Lands of Stone, ruled by the same being for unknown generations that stretch back beyond the reach of recorded history.

It is ruled by Ensi Vorath, known as "The Sleeping Mountain," a being rumored to be a Primal Beast who took human form at the dawn of time and has simply existed ever since, sleeping for centuries at a time while his empire runs on momentum and the fear of his awakening.

Lastly was the Covenant of the First Stone, located in the western reaches where the great plains meet the endless seas and the moving mountains walk in patterns older than memory.

The Covenant of the First Stone is centered on the Sacred Grove, a forest of petrified Ancestor Pillars surrounding the First Stone, the mythical seed from which all other stones in existence supposedly grew. Unlike the other Pillars, it is a theocracy rather than a traditional empire, ruled by religious doctrine and prophetic guidance rather than the sword, and it has never lost a war under its current leader’s guidance. It is ruled by the Hallowed Voice, a figure who hears the whispers of the Ancestors in every waking moment and speaks their will to the masses below.

The party of women atop a small floating landmass of stone, the ones who traveled through the skies surrounded by crackling lightning and churning clouds, stemmed from the Covenant of the First Stone.

And the older woman who sat upon a throne of white stone at the heart of the serene temple was someone famous across the Lands of Stone, known and feared by those knowledgeable enough to recognize her presence.

She was the Saint of Stone.

A title that placed her among the most powerful beings beneath the Hallowed Voice himself, a cultivator whose mastery had reached heights that most Warriors couldn’t even conceptualize, a woman who had shaped the Covenant’s military and political strategies for longer than most noble houses had existed.

At this moment, she looked at the young girl opposite her with eyes that burned like radiant blue stars, and she asked lightly, "Why are we where we are right now, my disciple?"

The young woman with dark hair and wing-shaped pupils met her master’s gaze without flinching, her voice calm and serious as she replied.

"We are far from home. Nobody knows us here, and we are not under the gazes of others who would report our movements to those who wish me harm."

Her white-winged pupils pulsed faintly with Mana as she continued.

"Coming here also makes our enemies unable to know where we are, as they would never assume we came to a place like this, so far from the centers of power, so deep into territories that the Covenant barely acknowledges exist."

...!

The Saint of Stone smiled at these words, her ancient features softening with approval as she nodded slowly.

"Correct."

She leaned back upon her throne, her stellar eyes surveying her disciple with the careful assessment of a master who had trained many but found excellence in few.

"I brought you out here to prepare you. To teach you lessons about the Lands of Stone that cannot be learned within palace walls, no matter how many scrolls you read or how many tutors lecture you on history and strategy."

Her gaze drifted toward the clouds swirling beyond the temple’s white pillars.

"I have sensed conflict brewing in these territories, small wars between small peoples that the great powers would never deign to notice. I will have you watch, and I will quiz you on the actions of those you see down below."

Her eyes returned to her disciple, sharp and demanding.

"Do you have any complaints about this?"

"No, Master."

The young woman replied seriously, her posture straight and her expression composed even as her pupils radiated terrifying concentrations of Mana that would have brought lesser Warriors to their knees.

The Saint looked at her disciple for a long moment, reading something in her bearing that seemed to satisfy whatever she was searching for.

Then she raised her head and looked out to the expanse of sky around them, to the endless blue stretching in every direction, to the distant ground far below where tribes lived and died without ever knowing that powers such as themselves existed.

"The Lands of Stone are ruled by men."

Her voice was grand and imposing, filling the temple with weight that pressed against the air itself.

"Good men. Bad men. Average men who believe themselves exceptional simply because they were born with strength between their legs. But they are all the same in the end, these men. They take what they want. They destroy what they cannot possess. They build empires on the broken bodies of those weaker than themselves and call it civilization."

...!