The Song of Dawn rippled across Lunareth again.
Soft, crystalline tones drifted through the air—notes that did not come from instruments, but from the world itself. Light gathered at the edge of the horizon, pooling like molten gold, and the sky unfurled into its eternal sunrise.
Kaleo sat cross-legged atop the pale stone plateau, eyes half-lidded, breath deep and steady. The glow around him was gentle yet firm, wrapping him in a cocoon of warmth.
He did not move when the ambient light intensified.
He did not flinch when it pressed against his skin like warm silk.
And he did not react when a presence approached—soft as a drifting feather, ancient as the first ray that ever touched creation.
He felt it.
A subtle disturbance in the fabric of illumination.
A ripple across the plane of light.
Someone—something—was watching.
He knew.
And he ignored it.
The world narrowed, his senses turning inward, deeper, deeper still… toward the fragile strand of light inside his core. Toward the Law he was only beginning to understand.
The Luminary Master Arrives
High above him, a figure stepped out of the beam of dawn.
Tall. Slender. Hair like woven luminescence.
This was Seraphel Lumeris, one of the four Luminary Masters of Lunareth—the guardians of the Dawn Veins and the oldest descendants of the Lightborn.
Her gaze landed on Kaleo with the weight of millennia.
"He sensed me," she murmured, voice quiet as drifting dust.
"A mortal High Human… ignoring a Luminary Master…"
Her eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in interest.
"…How rare."
She folded her arms within her silver-gold robes, watching.
"But his foundation is still unstable. His approach is too precise—too rigid. Light cannot be commanded into perfection. It must be understood."
Still, she did not interrupt him.
This was a test.
The Dawn tested all who sought the Law.
Kaleo's Internal Realm
Inside Kaleo's awareness, the plateau no longer existed.
He stood in a boundless inner realm—an ocean of glowing threads stretching infinitely into the horizon. Ribbons of radiance pulsed, shivered, and flowed like rivers made of memory and warmth.
But they were unstable.
Every time he reached toward one, it trembled… then slipped away.
Light is alive.
Light remembers everything.
Light reveals what must be revealed.
The teachings of the Luminar Archons echoed in his mind.
He exhaled.
He had spent years mastering the Law of Time, centuries (outside) forging the early stages of the Law of Divinity. Compared to those, the Law of Light felt…
Personal.
As if it was looking back at him.
"Calm," he whispered to himself. "No force."
He extended his hand, palm open.
A thread drifted close—soft, warm, almost affectionate.
The moment he reached further, it recoiled.
Not like Time… not like Divinity…
Light did not respond to dominance. Nor to reverence.
Light responded to truth.
And so, Kaleo steadied his breath and allowed the walls inside him to lower—a rare act from someone who had spent a lifetime building them.
For a moment, he thought of his father.
His mother.
Halburn's fall.
The Rift.
The four years in the pocket realm.
The beast that tore him apart.
The vow he made to live.
His heart ached.
And the thread of light brushed against his fingertips like a sympathetic hand.
Seraphel's Eyes Widen
Outside, Seraphel inhaled sharply.
"…He is showing the Light his grief."
She let her hand hover near her lips.
"Even we do not do such things lightly."
Light was purity.
Light was revelation.
Light was merciless honesty.
To offer one's deepest truths to it was to risk being burned—spirit, soul, and memory.
But Kaleo…
He did it without hesitation.
"This one…" Seraphel whispered, "…is dangerous."
Not because of power.
But because he was willing to bare himself to the world's purest force without fear.
A being like that was unpredictable.
Unbounded.
Potentially unstoppable.
She continued watching.
The First Touch
In his inner realm, the thread of light curled around his hand.
Warm.
Gentle.
A heartbeat made of radiance.
[Light Affinity Stabilizing…]
A faint system notification whispered through his mind, but he let it fade. He had no interest in being distracted.
The ribbon pulsed.
It showed him images—not illusions, but reflections.
• A young Kaleo, hiding in Halburn's gardens, reading scrolls under starlight.
• His mother's smile.
• His father's hand on his head.
• The first time he held a sword.
• The last time he saw his home burning.
• His own face—bloody, broken—swearing to live.
He clenched his jaw as the images vanished.
"So this is Light… not just illumination… but remembrance."
A law that recorded everything without bias.
A law that refused to lie.
Light was honesty incarnate.
He bowed his head slightly.
"…Then show me more."
Trial of Revelation
The ribbon flared, becoming blinding.
Then—without warning—it stabbed into his chest.
Kaleo gasped sharply.
The inner realm dissolved.
The threads exploded into brilliance.
His consciousness was thrown into a vortex of memories—his own, others', traces lingering in the very fabric of Lunareth.
A baby elf taking her first breath.
A warrior falling on the battlefield.
A forest growing from a single seed.
A dying star shedding its last glow.
A love confession whispered beneath a luminous tree.
A betrayal hidden under moonless skies.
Halburn's palace gleaming like dawn.
The moment the Divine Beast shattered his ribs.
The golden blood rising like stars—
He clenched his fists.
His knees buckled.
His chest burned.
Light wasn't gentle anymore.
It was overwhelming.
Heavy.
Demanding.
It was forcing him to witness truth—raw, unfiltered, unrelenting.
A trial of revelation.
He grit his teeth, refusing to fall.
"Not enough… you'll need more than that…"
The memories intensified, crushing him beneath their weight.
Still—he stood.
Seraphel Finally Speaks
"Astonishing."
Seraphel finally descended, her bare feet touching the plateau without sound.
She approached him slowly, each step deliberate, like a monarch walking through her domain.
Her voice carried the softness of morning wind.
"You withstand the Test of Revelation. Even among the Lightborn, this feat is rare."
Kaleo did not respond.
Sweat dripped down his temples, but his focus remained ironclad.
Seraphel circled him, curiosity shining in her eyes.
"You bear pain as if it were breath… burden as if it were duty. This alone is not enough to grasp Light."
She stopped directly before him.
"But facing truth—your own, and that of the world—sets you apart."
Her hand hovered just above his chest.
"Continue."
Then she stepped back, folding her hands behind her.
A Second Thread Appears
Inside his inner realm, another ribbon formed.
Brighter.
Sharper.
More… dangerous.
The first thread represented memory.
This one represented judgment.
It flickered like a blade of pure radiance.
Kaleo inhaled.
"Judgment… Light's second nature."
He reached for it—but it lashed out, burning his palm.
Blood sizzled.
The ribbon flared, enforcing its nature:
Light judges all.
Light accepts no falsehood.
Light spares none who lie—even to themselves.
Kaleo steadied his breath.
"…Then judge me."
The ribbon pierced his hand.
Pain ripped through him like molten metal.
His essence trembled.
But he didn't pull back.
He allowed the Light to scour him—burning away the remnants of fear, doubt, self-deception.
He screamed silently.
He endured.
He accepted.
And the moment he did—
The ribbon softened.
Then wrapped gently around his wrist.
Seraphel Steps Forward, Shocked
Seraphel gasped audibly.
"He accepted judgment willingly…"
Her voice trembled—not with fear, but with awe and unease.
"Kaleo Halburn… what are you becoming?"
She had lived thousands of years.
She had trained emperors, saints, prophets.
But none—none—had embraced the Judgment Light on their first attempt.
This High Human… this wanderer…
He was a storm wrapped in flesh.
A future Sovereign.
A threat.
A hope.
She closed her eyes.
"…The Dawn has chosen him."
Breakthrough
The inner realm shuddered.
Threads of light—memory, truth, revelation, judgment—wove together, spiraling into a single sphere before him.
It pulsed.
Not in acceptance…
Not in rejection…
But in acknowledgment.
Kaleo reached out.
His hand touched the sphere—
And everything exploded.
Light crashed through him like a tidal wave, engulfing his veins, heart, spirit.
He felt…
Warmth.
Pain.
Clarity.
Guilt.
Peace.
Strength.
Fragility.
He felt everything.
But more importantly—
He understood.
Just the first layer.
Just the foundation.
But it was enough.
[Law of Light—Early Comprehension Established]
The sphere dimmed, embedding itself in his core.
Kaleo exhaled sharply.
The plateau returned.
The sunrise stretched before him.
The world felt clearer—gentler—and infinitely more truthful.
He opened his eyes.
Silver-gold light flickered within them.
Seraphel's Final Words
Seraphel approached him once more, folding her hands behind her robe.
"You have taken your first step," she said softly.
Kaleo nodded, still catching his breath.
She studied him for a moment, then added:
"But know this, child of Halburn…"
Her voice shifted—ancient and heavy.
"Light reveals truth.
Truth demands responsibility.
And responsibility demands sacrifice."
She tilted her head, her expression unreadable.
"Are you prepared to carry what you will see?"
Kaleo's eyes hardened.
"…Yes."
Seraphel smiled faintly.
"Then, Kaleo Halburn… your Dawn has only just begun."