After the coronation of the new prophet, Fyrel was granted a grand house that previously belonged to Sukatsu, along with two guards: the first being the Celestial Wardens (chosen by the goddess to shield prophets from harm) and the second being the Silent Choir (unheard but ever-watching guardians).
Both of them will protect Fyrel 24/7.
The Celestial Warden – Amier Xin
(Holy, radiant, and bound by cosmic will)
- Starlight Armor: Their bodies shimmer with celestial energy, reducing physical harm or repelling dark magic.
- Constellation Shield: Summons a barrier of floating star-sigils that block projectiles.
- Fate's Intervention: Once per battle, they can "rewind" a near-fatal wound on their prophet.
Weakness: Their power wanes in places cut off from the sky (underground).
The Silent Choir – Ryn Ciu
(Unseen, eerie, and operating from the shadows)
- Phantom Veil: They exist partially out of phase with reality, making them hard to target.
- Echo Walk: Can "step through" walls or shadows, leaving no trace.
- Soulbrand Mark: Those who harm the prophet are marked, hunted by the Choir across distances.
- Noctis Cloak: Their presence dampens light and sound, creating unnatural silence.
Weakness: Holy light or true names disrupt their powers.
Synergy Between Them
- Balance of Light and Dark: The Celestial Wardens operate openly, while the Silent Choir works unseen.
- Dual-Layered Defense: Assassins might evade the Wardens' light, only to be swallowed by the Choir's shadows.
- Prophet's Choice: A morally ambiguous prophet might rely more on the Choir's ruthlessness.
He looked at Sukatsu with a slightly strange expression.
Why do I feel like I've been scammed from the very beginning? If you had two people this strong guarding you, why did I have to go all out to save you? Did the goddess already know what would happen? Was I set up from the start?
As he stood there lost in thought, Sukatsu nudged Fyrel with his elbow.
The goddess really likes you. So don't overthink it. This is the first time she's gone all-in to support someone. You're also the first prophet she truly trusts.
Yeah… yeah… Fyrel muttered. I just don't understand what this 'Sleeping Prophet' thing means.
Sukatsu raised his five fingers and lowered them one by one. You'll understand soon enough…
By the time the last finger dropped, Fyrel's vision suddenly blurred. His legs gave way, and he nearly collapsed—but Amier swiftly caught him.
Sukatsu gestured for Amier to take Fyrel to the Prophet's House. With a silent nod, Amier carried him away.
The night had deepened, and Fyrel lay sprawled across a grand four-poster canopy bed with heavy velvet drapes. Beside him, Hwa was fast asleep, breathing softly in the dim light.
He stirred awake from a deep slumber, his mind still foggy with lingering drowsiness. Ugh… why do I still feel so tired? His eyelids were heavy, as if he hadn't slept at all.
Huuwaaah… Where am I now? he mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he took in the lavish surroundings.
The room was adorned with carved oak paneling, its intricate designs subtly weaving prophetic motifs—hidden eyes, distant stars, threads of fate. Stained-glass windows cast fragmented light across the floor, painting sacred patterns in shifting hues. A marble hearth held an eternal flame, its glow flickering like an unspoken promise. And in the corner stood a gilded mirror—one that sometimes reflected more than it should.
Did I get the wrong room...? Fyrel muttered, still half-asleep, his gaze drifting over the extravagant bedroom. The grandeur felt almost overwhelming—yet there was Hwa, sleeping peacefully beside him.
He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness. Where even am I—
Suddenly, a voice echoed from the shadows.
This is your place now, Master...
Fyrel jolted upright, scanning the dimly lit room. Who said that?! His eyes darted around, but no one was visible. Show yourself..
Then, in a flicker of darkness, a figure materialized beside his bed—cloaked in moth-wing patterns, face wrapped in semi-translucent fabric, hands clad in fingerless, ash-gray leather etched with tiny eye sigils.
I am Ryn Ciu... of the Silent Choir, she whispered, her voice barely audible. Forgive me for disturbing you, Master.
Before Fyrel could react, she drew a dagger from her robes—and pressed it against her own throat.
I will take my life for my failure.
WAIT—! Fyrel lunged forward, horrified. I just wanted to know who you were! Don't—don't kill yourself over something like that!
Ryn paused, blade still hovering. Slowly, she lowered it and bowed deeply. Thank you... for granting me mercy, Prophet. Her voice was a ghostly murmur. I will never fail you again.
Fyrel exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. This is... way too intense for my first night here..
Fyrel groaned, clutching his stomach. I need to pee, where's the toilet, Ryn?
Ryn nodded silently and pointed to a door across the room. She waited as Fyrel stumbled out of bed, then shadowed him like a wraith. When he pushed the door open, sure enough—it was the bathroom. But the moment he stepped inside, an uneasy feeling crept over him.
Errrgggg... Ryn... you really don't need to follow me in here. It's safe, I swear.
Ryn shook her head. I will follow you everywhere—until death. That is my oath to protect you. Her voice was calm but unyielding. If Master is shy, I will close my eyes... but not my ears.
How the fuck am I supposed to pee in peace with a woman standing behind me?! he screamed internally.
Desperate, he tried bargaining. Not even a tiny chance I can convince you to wait outside?
She gave a single, firm nod. I will never break my promise, Master. Please... proceed as you wish.
Hell nah... this is bullshit. Defeated, Fyrel gave up and did his business—under the unsettling awareness of his ever-watchful guard. After washing his hands, he stormed out, exhaling sharply.
Trying to shift focus, he asked, Do you know why I fainted this afternoon ?
Ryn tilted her head slightly. Yes, Master. The pain you were meant to endure has been transformed... into an unending drowsiness. Until we find the cure for the curse, you will always feel the need to sleep.
So I'm basically a prophet with a sleep disorder now? Great.