Behold, An Archon
Flesh and Blood Fan Fiction by Evan McGrew
The following story won first place in a Flesh and Blood fan fiction writing competition hosted by Youtuber and fantasy writer Peranine. Limited to 1,000 words, the competition asked writers to craft a story based on either of the prompts “into the light,” or “beauty in darkness.” This story is based in the town of Solana, a gleaming city of light, where children are called at a young age to a profession through an Awakening Ceremony. According to official Flesh and Blood Lore:
“When a child of Solana turns eight years old, an Archon will arrive at their home to lead them to a special room within the Solarium, where they will conduct the Awakening Ceremony. This sacred space is filled with a wide and varied selection of items, from ancient tomes to swords and shields, smithing hammers to aprons and looms; every trade and profession in Solana is represented within this lofty space. Once the ceremony begins, one of the items in particular within the room will resonate with Sol’s light and begin to glow, revealing the child’s divine calling. Many families within Solana have passed down their trades through the generations, honing their craft over the centuries with the help of Sol’s divine guidance.”
Enjoy!
On her eighth birthday Dahlia Maillard awoke from a pain in her palm. She swung her feet to the stone floor as she sat up in bed and gathered her thoughts. She fixed her straw-colored hair in the reflection of a pail of water and considered the dream. In the moments before first light, she had dreamt of a sword blistering away in her hand. The more she tried to recall the dream, the more it vanished into the recesses of her mind. Dahlia made the sign of Sol and knelt.
The Light upon Rathe,
manifest in me.
The truth of Sol,
will always be.
She repeated the prayer eight times before changing into her ceremonial robes and racing down a flight of uneven stairs to the kitchen. Dahlia lit a fistful of kindling and assembled eggs, cheese, milk, and bread on a table.
“Firstmeal,” Dahlia called to her family, ringing a golden bell. A warm honey tone resonated through the cavities of the dwelling, grounding hearts in the presence of dawn.
“You’re up early,” her father said.
Dahlia shot a mocking face.
“O‘Course,” he continued. “You’re formidable with the cookware,” he pointed at the skillet. “I wouldn’t be surprised if my daughter–”
“—Was what, given a glowing pot? Another Maillard cook?” Dahlia mocked. “I’d rather a blade.” She held a knife towards the window and admired the shine of the steel.
“The Light manifests within, its revelation is not for us to say. We are mere vessels of Sol,’’ father explained. Dahlia lowered her head in obedience and salted eggs in a bowl.
Several loud knocks at the door sent Dahlia’s preparations clattering to the floor, spilling hot butter and eggs. Dahlia ducked into the window to see the visitor. A sinewy man in stark-white robes stood propped on a golden staff. His face, half concealed by an embroidered hood, emanated jubilance. Bathed in superfluous light, the figure radiated with more energy than was available by the morning sun. The Archon glorified Sol where he stood.
Dahlia shielded her eyes and remained rooted beneath the window. Her father opened the door and the Archon entered the dwelling with ambivalence. Dahlia felt the warmth of several torches upon her face as she gazed upward.
The Archon leaned over the mess of eggs and butter, a pinch of sanguinity in the corner of his wrinkled mouth. “Firstmeal?” his voice cracked with interest.
“Yes… your… Holiness,” Dahlia stammered.
“Amenlux–” he amended. “Call me Amenlux.” He bowed until his great sleeves graced the ground. Dahlia repeated the name incredulously. Her father motioned for her to clean the mess but Amenlux produced a satin cloth from his waist and buffed the stone with his palm.
“Child of Light,” Amenlux said. “Your Awakening awaits.” He extended his hand upon Dahlia's shoulder.
“Yes… but—” Dahlia’s empty stomach and fears were instantly quelled. A paternal warmth radiated from her shoulder, lengthening her inhales and spine.
“As you are.” Amenlux motioned for the door with his arm, ushering the girl towards the main road, which led to the Solarium.
Dahlia trotted beside the Archon as life poured itself onto the streets of Solana. Tradesmen unfurled embroidered banners, armored knights strode to morning posts with helms at their waists and horses in tow. Sandaled scholars orated blessings as they passed on the cobblestone road. Merchants stopped uncrating daily commodities and stared at the Archon and girl as they passed by a myriad of multicolored storefronts.
At an intersection, a glorious knight with a tidy golden hair noticed Dahlia. He gestured with his gauntlet against his ornate shield, and affirmed her with the sign of Sol over his breastplate. Dahlia tightened her grip on the Archon’s robes.
The Solarium towered over the road’s horizon as the city's defensive and spiritual center. A ramparted heart of castlework, vast atriums, marble keeps, and gleaming turrets, The Solarium was humanity’s architectural manifestation of their pledge to cleanse Rathe of shadow.
Amenlux led Dahlia to a six story sandstone atrium within the Solarium. Pastel flowers and leafy vegetables lined ivory banisters and marbled staircases. Wooden troughs cataloged a variety of sprouts and herbs, while vines climbed trellises towards opened windows. Amenlux offered Dahlia a species of waterleaf, “All hungry may eat,” he said.
A pair of gilded doors at the corner of the atrium opened automatically revealing a great hall drenched in shadow. The Archon’s radiance seemed equally matched by the darkness as they waded towards the center of the room, a bioluminescent pair of organisms in a child’s jar. Dahlia felt air columns swirling high above. Her neck dampened with sweat.
“The Awakening is before you,” Amenlux lifted his staff. “Do you accept what is, what was, and what will be by The Light of Sol?” Upon utterance of “The Light,” mounted torches ignited across the wall. The dancing flames illuminated banners from the eight districts, their corresponding tools atop claw-footed tables.
“Only within darkness can we define light,” Amenlux orated. “We are the light upon Rathe, the beacon of tomorrow. Through discipline we glorify Sol, purest of wavelengths, holiest of auras. We confess, the gamut of light is beyond our mortal comprehension.”
The weight of invocation prostrated Dahlia beneath an overwhelming tapestry of light and sound. Swirling sands abraded Dahlia’s eyes as her fingers clawed at the stone floor. Her breathing became sporadic and her neck filled with tension. Her father’s bearded smile and mother’s freckled nose flashed before her. She closed her eyes to embrace the visions as the whites in her eyes faded. The Awakening’s apex was overwhelming.
When the chaos abated, Dahlia struggled to her feet. Cutting through the darkness was an illuminated iron pan, hovering above the table with white-hot intensity. She rubbed her eyes and searched the tables for an illuminated sword. It sat in cold stillness. Dahlia Maillard considered the knot in her stomach. This was not her dream.
Evan McGrew is an active member of the FABTCGDC group and 1/2 of the creative force behind FAB TCG CARDS’ playmats. He enjoys helping grow the local community one player at a time. When he is not putting counters on his Dawnblade, Evan teaches 5th grade in Fairfax, VA.