Beyond The Waning Light of Paradise

Chapter 1: The Jester's Dance

                                                         Act 1: Shadows of the Heart

The Continent of Amberfell, Solarisynth

Year 1098 of the Raet Empire

Amberfell, once known as Amberheart, was a land steeped in history, where the scars of past wars still echoed in the hearts of its people. The realm of Solarisynth was vast, divided among powerful families who served under the ruling Raet Empire. The capital city, Amberheart, stood as a symbol of hope and resilience—a name chosen to defy the memory of the invaders who had once ravaged their continent.

It was an unbearably hot day, and the relentless sun beat down on the capital city of  Amberheart. The gentle slopes and amber trees offered scant relief, their shade a brief respite for the citizens who went about their daily lives, the trees themselves a living reminder of the continent's former name and glory.

A young boy, around eleven years old, stirred from his slumber as persistent knocking echoed through his small room. "Oh, come on, Silas! It's about to start, and you don't want to miss the Jester's performance! Hell, I don't want to miss the Jester's performance" called a grumbling voice from the other side of the door.

Silas, still groggy, blinked his hazel eyes open. He sat up, pushing back a lock of chestnut brown hair that had fallen into his eyes. His thoughts drifted to the day ahead, filled with anticipation and curiosity. His father, Sullivan Lonestar, a stern and disciplined man, had said nothing of the event, making Silas more eager to see what the fuss was about.

"I'll be out in a minute!" Silas called back, already moving to dress himself. He carefully buttoned his waistcoat, ensuring it was neat. Standing in front of the mirror, he combed his hair meticulously, knowing that anything less than perfect would invite his father's stern reprimand. His polished shoes gleamed, a reflection of the high standards his family held.

After a few minutes, Silas stepped out of his room with a small smile. He was greeted by Rowan, who was waiting just outside the door. Rowan grinned at Silas, his sandy blonde hair falling into unruly waves. "Finally out? You sure took your time."

"Well, I had to look proper, or my father would give me an earful," Silas replied with a light tone, though a part of him knew there was truth in his words. His father was strict, and Silas was determined not to disappoint him.

Rowan chuckled, his blue eyes lively with mischief. "Fair enough. Let's just hurry. We don't want to miss the good seats."

The two boys set off toward the venue, the streets of Amberheart bustling with activity. As they walked, Rowan teasingly ruffled Silas's neatly combed hair. "Relax a bit, Silas. You're always so serious."

Silas laughed, swatting Rowan's hand away. "Someone has to keep you in line."

The boys' banter continued until they reached the main hall, where a large queue had already formed. Despite the crowd, they managed to find their place in line, a sense of excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

"Looks like we made it in time," Rowan remarked, his grin widening.

After a short wait, they were allowed inside. The vast hall was packed with children aged six to ten, their eager chatter filling the air. This event, held once every three years, was not to be missed. Silas and Rowan headed directly to the second floor, a privilege reserved for families of higher status. The second floor was much quieter, with only a handful of people scattered about. Silas's father, Sullivan Lonestar, was a Soulweaver who served as a guest war counsellor to the Remington clan, one of the four most powerful vassal families under the Raet Empire. As a result, Silas had access to this exclusive area and could bring a guest along.