IC Date: 10/02/2025

It had been one of Elysia’s memories that spurred this foray into the palace complex. The image of that half mad young woman standing before yet another cast bronze door in some dim turret in the palace. Her trembling hands calling forth her harpies to feed the crystalline lock with the power of her planet. The barrier swinging open to reveal a silent library. Elysia fleeing from what she knew to be a sanctuary for Sotiria’s thoughts. Her work. Possibly a repository for the tyrant’s madness.

The living Tempesti knew, or at least strongly suspected, that Sotiria’s memories were long lost to the cycles of the Galaxy Cauldron. Even so, the ancient Basilea’s presence permeated every stone in this city, vibrating and echoing through the shadows of Elysia’s mind. Looming in the fearful, superstitious imaginings of countless Tempestines.

Tower and tyrant.
Creator and monster.

Tempesti found her pull irresistible and so she strode through the massive doors of the palace with an intense sense of purpose, Hildegard in hot pursuit. With what seemed like indignation, the small creature flapped onto the senshi’s shoulder.

“Ow!”

A sharp peck to her left ear drew a startled yelp.

“Hildegard, be nice!” The chicken gremlin replied with a series of self-satisfied clucks as they made their way through the antechamber, preening and pulling a lock of red hair.

Climbing the gentle slope of the arcing stairway, they found themselves standing before an elaborately realized stained glass door. Gilding ran between the panels, the image of a huge, gleaming white bird perched confidently in the branches of a glittering rainbow tree. A selapeth. The word came to her with surprising ease, gleaned from the ancient pages she’d studied over the past month. They had stared back from lists of family crests. Or what seemed to be family crests. At least from the context, she would be lying if she said that she had a truly solid understanding of exactly what was going on in those charts. The one set in the door held a purple banner bearing a golden sunburst in its wickedly sharp beak. With a gentle push, Tempesti made her way into a color-lit corridor once blocked with ancient debris. Stained glass cast its shifting hues across the glittering mosaics beneath her feet, the shiny tiles apparently enough pull Hildegard from her shoulder and onto the enticingly peckable floor. Leaving her cosmic companion to her own exploration, Tempesti called forth the Atlas Orb. Even if mapping was secondary to her greater goals for the day, this was a new wing of the palace. Well, new to her, anyway. This her. And a new place needed mapping.

Approaching the spiral staircase which ascended the turret, a bit of a smile played across the senshi’s lips.

“Storm-Swift Flight!

It might be the slightest bit lazy to use magic to help scale a tower, but it was fun! Of all of her abilities, this was easily her favorite. Well, her second favorite now that she could share energy. But still, there was no harm in using it frivolously every so often, right? Her soft laughter persisted as she alit at the top step, the harpies depositing her at the mouth of a narrow, winding hallway lined with glowing stained glass windows. Rounding the turret’s circular core, Tempesti stood before another cast-bronze door.

Like the door of the City Library it bore the image of two long, snake-like animals in shades of sparkling blue and green, though this pair wound loosely around the torso and outstretched arms of a striking winged woman. A crystalline star resembling the enormous power source of the Wellspring Shrine hovered delicately above the woman’s upturned palm. Though depictions of her were rare, Tempesti immediately recognized Sotiria. Unlike the statue at the bottom of the crypt in the Tower of the Winds, however, here she stood proudly. Her face was determined, regal, and missing the cruelty by which so many defined her. The senshi wondered if the artist intended to flatter a woman of whom they were terrified or if it reflected the way they truly saw the Basilea in this regal, almost nurturing light. Ultimately, for the moment, it was irrelevant. The knowledge behind this door was what mattered. Pressing her hand to the many-pointed star, she allowed the planet’s energy to flow through her and into the door. The now familiar sound of its internal mechanisms echoed through the silent corridor before granting the newcomer entry.