The sky above Elyaran was the color of battered iron. Cold, ash-laden sleet drifted over the city, turning the white marble of the Inner Citadel into a slick, gray mirror.
Above, in the Great Audience Hall, bronze trumpets sounded to welcome the arriving envoys. Azhred sat upon the Regional Governor's throne, wearing an immense white velvet cloak embroidered with golden phoenixes. His silver aura shimmered with radiant, unquestionable majesty. To the world above, he was the shining Sun of the West—the victorious Drazhan prince who had reclaimed Elyaran.
Three hundred arshins beneath the throne, deep within the underground foundations untouched by sunlight, stood the true engine of the realm.
The Crownless Vault was a pitch-black stone chamber surrounding the trembling Astra-Core Node.
Tair sat crouched in the freezing mud at the base of the monolith. He wore no elegant velvet; only a torn, blood-soaked wool tunic. His dead-weight right arm hung motionless in its leather sling. A black leather band covered the socket of his right eye, while his single left eye, clouded with thick red spiderwebs of severe neural damage, remained fixed upon the glowing obsidian surface without blinking.
System Diagnostics: ASTRA
CRITICAL NEURAL COST: 49%