Silence ruled the Grand Cathedral long after the awakening had ended.
It was not the peaceful silence of prayer, nor the reverent quiet that usually followed divine miracles. It was the heavy stillness of minds failing to process reality.
Absolute Light.
A term that existed only in erased scriptures and sealed legends.
And yet, it had manifested—through the overlooked second prince.
Aurelian Lucentis stood calmly as the cathedral doors slowly opened, allowing disciplined rows of Radiant Knights to enter. Their footsteps echoed against marble floors polished by centuries of worship. Each knight bore holy sigils and suppression relics meant to restrain rampaging archmages.
Aurelian recognized every one of them.
Redundant formation. Excess manpower. Fear-driven deployment, he evaluated silently.
The emperor's command echoed clearly.
"Escort His Highness back to the palace."
No celebration.
No public announcement.
Only control.
The return to the imperial palace felt longer than usual.
Golden streets parted as civilians knelt, unaware of what had occurred inside the cathedral. The floating light crystals that illuminated Solaria glimmered faintly as Aurelian passed, reacting subtly to his presence.
He felt it.
Light recognized him.
Not as a wielder—but as an authority.
This reaction is subconscious, Aurelian concluded. Even ambient constructs respond.
Inside the royal carriage, silence prevailed.
Caelum sat opposite him.
The crown prince's posture was straight, his expression controlled, but his hands betrayed him—fingers clenched tightly against his robes.
"You hid this," Caelum finally said.
Aurelian blinked. "I didn't know myself."
"That's impossible." Caelum's voice sharpened. "No one awakens Absolute Light accidentally."
"No one understands it either," Aurelian replied calmly. "That includes me."
Their gazes met.
For the first time, Caelum felt as though he were looking at someone fundamentally different.
Not superior.
Not inferior.
Simply… other.
The emergency council convened before sunset.
Sealed wards activated. Soundproof barriers rose. Divine detection arrays hummed quietly.
Aurelian stood alone in the center of the chamber.
"Your presence destabilizes active light formations," the High Bishop said carefully. "Several city wards fluctuated during your return."
"They stabilized on their own," Aurelian replied. "I intervened unconsciously."
A murmur spread through the ministers.
Unconsciously.
"Can you suppress it?" the commander of the Radiant Order asked bluntly.
Aurelian considered the question.
"I can limit expression," he answered. "Not recognition."
The emperor finally spoke.
"Then we will redefine your role."
Lucius Lucentis rose from his throne, light casting sharp shadows across his features.
"You will not be publicly acknowledged as an awakened Absolute Light bearer. Officially, your affinity will be recorded as Refined Radiant Light."
Gasps followed.
Aurelian showed no reaction.
"You will enter the Royal Academy next year," the emperor continued. "Under observation. Under protection. Under restriction."
"Under surveillance," Aurelian corrected.
Lucius smiled faintly. "Naturally."
That night, sealed reports spread through hidden channels.
Within the Church of Radiance, sealed vaults were opened for the first time in centuries.
A single line was unsealed:
If Absolute Light awakens again, the Goddess's will shall no longer be absolute.
Panic followed.
Aurelian sat alone in his chambers, moonlight filtering through translucent curtains woven with holy thread.
He extended his perception outward.
Light flowed back.
Not violently.
Not overwhelmingly.
But obediently.
He could feel the palace barriers. The city wards. The sacred pylons beneath the capital.
All of it.
So the empire truly runs on light, he realized. Which means…
His eyes narrowed slightly.
I am already part of its foundation.
Far beneath Solaria, ancient mechanisms stirred.
And somewhere beyond the sky, the Goddess of Light watched in silence.
For the first time in a very long age
She felt uncertainty.