He paused, letting his words hang in the air. The Archivist Prime adjusted her spectacles, her scholarly mind already racing to annotate this unprecedented event.
"The role of Grand Luminary is one of ultimate service and sacrifice," he continued, "It requires not only power, but wisdom, perspective, and a will that is utterly dedicated to the balance of all things. I have led this Order for three centuries. I have watched for my successor. I believe the trials have found him."
A wave of pure, unadulterated shock crashed through the hall. Whispers died before they were even fully born, choked off by sheer disbelief. The High Commander's head snapped toward the Grand Luminary, his stern composure broken. The Voice of Divinity's benevolent mask slipped, revealing stark astonishment. The Archivist Prime simply stared, her hands frozen.
"Judgement," the Grand Luminary proclaimed, his voice now ringing with official decree. "I invite you to become the Initiate Grand Luminary. You will learn at my side, and upon my eventual passing, you will ascend to lead the Holy Order and guide the destiny of our world."
It was the highest honour imaginable. To refuse was inconceivable, an act of utter insanity. Every soul in the hall waited for the acceptance, the gratitude, the awe.
Judgement was silent for some time. He looked not at the crowd, not at the shocked Pillars, but directly into the Grand Luminary.
"I am deeply honoured by your offer, Grand Luminary," Judgement said, his voice respectful and humble. "The trust you place in me is a weight that I cannot comprehend."
He took a breath.
"However, I must humbly admit that I am not fit for the role of Grand Luminary."
The silence that followed was absolute, deeper than the dead of night. Faces paled. The High Commander looked as if he'd been struck by a physical blow.
Judgement continued, "The name I bear is Judgement. Its purpose is balance. To sit upon a throne, even one as noble as yours, would inherently align me with a single faction—the governing body of the Order. My function requires impartiality. I must stand apart from political machinations, diplomatic entanglements, and even the chain of command. To judge fairly, one cannot be a part of the system one is meant to adjudicate. My duty is to the principles you uphold, not to the office itself. Accepting would compromise my purpose before it has even begun."
The Grand Luminary did not look offended. He did not look angry. A slow, radiant smile spread across his ancient face, a smile of pure, unblemished joy. He began to laugh, a sound of warm, genuine delight that echoed strangely in the stunned hall.
"Glory to the Holy Order!" he declared, his eyes shining. "Judgement, you truly are a son of the Divine. You have not only gained power, but the wisdom to wield it! You understand the nature of your name better than I could have hoped. You are correct. Absolutely correct."
He turned to the three Pillars, who were still reeling from the series of shocks. His voice took on the tone of command.
"High Commander," he said, addressing the leader of the Knights.
The armoured man stiffened to attention. "Grand Luminary!"
"The Knights of the Sacred Blade are our sword and shield. But a sword must sometimes be sheathed, and a shield must sometimes be tested. We have need of a new edge. We have need of a new edge—one that is sharp, impartial, and guided not by allegiance, but by truth."
He turned back to Judgement, his expression one of profound respect. "Judgement, your refusal was not an act of defiance, but of profound understanding. Your role is not to lead from a throne, but to stand as a balance—to ensure that power, in all its forms, remains just. Therefore, I decree this: you shall hold a unique position within the Holy Order. You will answer to no faction, bow to no title, and serve no agenda but that of cosmic equilibrium. You will be our Arbiter—the living embodiment of the principles we strive to uphold."
A murmur swept through the assembly, but the Grand Luminary raised a hand, and silence fell once more.
"Your authority," he went on, "will be absolute in matters of ethics, law, and consequence. You may intervene where you see imbalance—whether within the ranks of the Knights, the archives of the Keepers, or the councils of the Weavers. You will judge not only our enemies but ourselves. This is the burden you accepted when you took your name. Will you bear it?"
Judgement met the Grand Luminary's eyes, and for a moment, it seemed as though the very air shimmered with the gravity of the moment. Then, he gave a single, slow nod.
"I will."
The Grand Luminary smiled, a look of deep satisfaction smoothing the lines of his aged face. "Then let it be known: from this day forward, Judgement stands apart—as guardian of our conscience, and keeper of the balance."
"Today, The Holy Order welcomes the Knight of Judgement."
And as the assembly absorbed the weight of the declaration, a new chapter began—not with a crown, but with a scales.