Velwrith awoke to rooster calls and found he was in a familiar dormitory.

 The room mainly sat barren save for a wardrobe of old clothes, a neatly ordered writing desk, and his backpack.

Noticing the hour, he dressed quickly, his armor and weapons expectedly missing from his room. Glancing out the window at the dewy spring sunrise, he knew where he needed to go.

His tutor's workshop estate sat nestled into a fork of the world tree—fields sprawled in the east and gardens westward. To the north and south, carved into the bark of the great tree, were dozens of embellished archways displaying distant lands.

 Ignoring both the splendor of the morning and the growing thrum of humanity, the prince trudged to the furthest and loftiest garden.

#

 Valtra, The Stargazer, knelt waiting for him outside the humble shrine. Her shining platinum hair cascaded down between wings of shining metallic feathers, a sparkling blue and gold dress tempering her figure. A cat-sized blue moth fluttered overhead.

She did not look up at his approach. Her calm, steady voice sang, "It has been a very long time. Come, let us ask for the Goddess's blessings together." 

Compulsively, he followed her to a small alter topped with a painted statue of the Goddess Aldrey'Galoe. Both sets of eyes, his and hers, stayed fixed on the figure as they approached. 

Putting his mind to something, Velwrith examined the statue, noting its beautiful marble face framed by billowing blond hair, flowing yellow dress, perfect figure, and the miniature red rose growing from its outstretched hands.

 Reaching a wide groove of worn stone, they knelt. With a deep breath, Velwrith spoke. "Yes, forty years… we thought no one could kill that Gorgun, but I did." 

As he spoke, he pulled six different color figures from a pouch, leaving the redundant yellow one inside. Diligently he laid them in two flanks around the Goddess depicted before him, whispering the names of each god they represented. Valtra did similarly with a cabinet built into the alter itself. 

She did not look at him, speaking towards the statue. "Please, tell me. Did you do all that? Go all that way, and leave everyone you knew behind to slay a monster?"

Velwrith responded without thinking. "I wanted the reward and needed to prove to myself..." the swordsman felt the scornful gaze snap to him, growing more potent with every letter. "So I went after one monster he never could…."

A silky white hand clenched around a white figurine; it cracked. "Just vanity then, are you going after HIM next? Is that why you took THE RIGHT? Is that why you nearly starved to death trespassing?" 

Blue eyes pierced him, but still, he nodded.

The steady voice wavered, not frantic, but far from calm. "Rashala isn't responsible for what happened. Please don't go getting yourself killed. You've passed The Lightbringer's Right; use the power for something good."

After a long silence, the women collected her figurines, whispering the name each represented as she did. When finished, she turned to the statue and curtsied low.

Then, with all other matters concluded, she spoke, "I want to help you understand your new abilities. When you finish praying, collect your weapons from the armory. Saeria and I will be waiting for you in field number two. Ohh, and don't bother with the cellar; I already locked it." she accented the last words by producing a key, spinning it around her finger.

Finished with her charge, she glided away, her naked footprints transforming into little springs in the soft mud.

 Silence loomed over the shrine, damp and heavy, while Velwtih muttered his prayers, completing them by saluting the statue; his boots bit bleeding gashes in the earth as he departed.

#

Dirt crammed itself into Velwrith's mouth as he landed. The stink of earth filled his nose and tiny pebbles his vision.

Kal'Saeria loomed twenty paces away, crouched low, banging her ax against her round shield, and cackling.

Or so he surmised while faced down in the grass.

Mocking, she roared. "Let me know how you slew that beasty again. I can't believe it when you fight as if you've never held a sword before." 

"Well, to start with, it was a lot easier to look at. " He retorted, rising to his feet again. 

Regret hit him instantly, following the flat of an ax on the back of his knee. The soft grass embraced him again.

"Ohh! You just snuck into the cave while the beasty was asleep. Chopped its head off before it could open its eyes." Her orange eyes flickered with excitement.

A flame was kindling just under the Velwrith's breast. How dare she talk to me like this, he thought. I'll beat the red bitch blue. Silently he tried to hoist himself up again, but a boot shoved him back down.

"No, no, pretty boy, not until you've answered my question." 

Valtra's singing voice somehow boomed from her lawn seat. "Let him up, Saeria; I told you that pinning him is no better than that breath of yours..." The giant blue moth dozed on her lap; a hot, fragrant cup in her hands fought back the chill. "...if this entire exercise is to mean anything, it must be evenly matched." the disciple compiled happily, offering a hand to her conquest.

It was the hand, paired with a smug look, that finally set the elf's bones on fire— he leaped upwards weightlessly, sword-swinging headward. The dragonkin woman evaded in a shower of tiny crimson hairs, countering with a lashing from her wings. Velwrith bound backward from the storm of minor cuts.

Not missing a step, the ax rushed him; he parried with his sword, throwing it wide. Then, seeing an opening, he thrust his shield forward, his whole weight behind it. The wooden kite shield caught the woman square in the chest with her balance extended; she toppled backward, her mail skirt fluttering.

His temper still hot, he stepped forward. But Valtra appeared beside him. Wordlessly she held a hand mirror. His reflection seemed normal at first, but it was clear what had changed after a moment. His skin was dirty but not bloody. A glowing golden sun tattoo masked the right side of his face.

As hot anger and drive in his chest melted away to constricting astonishment, so too did the lustering glow of the runes, tarnishing to a matte brown. The blood of many fine cuts slowly bloomed on his neck and shoulders as they sprouted all over him.

"You've felt it, the power of The Lightbringer's Presence," she said after all the luster had vanished from the intricate lines.

"Show me again," he begged, falling to his knees and grabbing at her hand. His body thrummed with stinging pain.

"As you wish, pretty boy," Kale'Sairea bellowed behind him, happily smashing the back of her ax into the side of his head.