((This is canon, just not important enough to be a progression)) -- Following the encounter at the Dragon Temple, William Arnyn felt the sensation of ever falling, his wings could and would not save him, and his eyes did not reveal where he was falling to. It was utter darkness that surrounded him, and no sound save for the pounding of his own heart in his ears could be heard. Then, just as suddenly as he had been thrust into this nothingness, did he suddenly stand again, in the Dragon Temple. It took him a few moments to recollect himself, ensure that all his limbs were still in place and functional, before he looked around himself to figure out what had happened. The Temple looked different, less overgrown, less neglected from the passage of time. The stonework looked cleaner and the plants were all still arranged in an orderly manner. The sunlight from the setting sun hit William’s face - and in that moment he realized - that something was off. When one was in the Dragon Temple during sunset, the sun could not possibly hit one’s face, as the windows were blocked by the Assembly hall. William scrambled to the window to see where the light was coming from, dumbfound to be met with a row of brick houses and a few river barges floating back and forth on the river. He looked further, seeing the Imperial Cathedral, both towers, so he was definitely looking in the right direction, as the Cathedral was right behind the Assembly hall. And then the second realization of ‘Wait, What?’ clicked in him, as those two towers were no more, since one of them had crashed down during the Clicker Crisis. Caught in a haze of confusion, William was quickly approached by someone from behind who startled him, causing him to pull out his sword and swivel around, ready to demand an answer from his would be attacker. His would be attacker appeared to him more like his librarian. He was spindly, frail-looking and tall, yet immensely unintimidating. He had long straight jet-black hair to his shoulders, and piercing sky-blue eyes, intently trained on William as he stood slightly hunched over and with his hands folded behind him. William ballparked him anywhere between 17 and 21 years old, given that his facial hair had only barely just started sprouting from his chin and upper lip. Before William could get a word in however, the young man tossed a Unionist chain over William’s neck, and slapped down his visor. For someone with such a frail looking posture, he spoke with an immensely commanding and assured tone: “You will not speak, you will not raise your visor, you will not take off your helmet, you will not remove your unionist chain, and you will not yell, grunt, show mercy, or do anything that should cause you to fail. You have singularly been brought here as part of a bargain, and you will complete your end of the task, for whatever reason, I’m sure you and him have some sort of arrangement on your end. And before you ask, that building you were looking for won’t be built until 252 After Cataclysm, that’s not for another 130 years or so. Now, remain quiet, do as you’re told, fold out your wings when you’re called upon, and let’s go”. Before William could even raise a finger to ask questions or protect, the young man turned around and started pacing off while calling for William “Now to fall short”, prompting him to quickly follow. The streets were strange. And perhaps, a lot more white. There were no Varran, no Kathar, no Songaskians, no Qadir, barely any Daendroquin could be seen. The locals all spoke with a funny dialect that William barely could make out, it sounded Common sure enough, but there were strange words and accents that he could not place. The buildings were so much smaller and lower, the streets so much dirtier, and the people so much poorer. Gone were the extravagant Ithanian clothing stores, the familiar Golden Hive which was in fact now a fishmonger, and even the Golden Willow Tavern was merely a small pub with a grass pitch in front of it. Greygate lacked the splendor that the towers brought, made of ramshackle brick and stone with a few wool woven Regalian flags dancing in the wind. The two made it to the Imperial Bridge, the largest bridge spanning the Crown River that would lead to the Imperial Palace, the headquarters of the Sancella of Unionism, and various government offices. The Palace looked remarkably similar, the structure having been unchanged for much of its first construction in the first century of the Regalian Empire’s founding. The two stopped at the beginning of the bridge, allowing them to take a quick gaze down the entire length. The Crown River was wide, even at this widest point. It had always been rumored that the bridge was specifically built at the widest point to deter attackers. Plenty of room to maneuver even on horseback, and the many stone alcoves allowed for plenty of ambushes. Sure enough, the young man next to William added “Yes. There will be an ambush. As you have surmised. Soon, a group of Knights will charge onto this bridge, and make it to about halfway, where they will be ambushed. They are hopelessly outnumbered. You will fly up into the clouds, and from there, wait until the clouds break to descend, and defend those in need. I presume you have no problem with this. Without even letting William respond, the young man whipped up his hand in a graceful flourish, his eyes briefly flashing a purple ring on his irises that William could just make out. He simply nodded now, understanding that there was some connection, when the young man told him “Go forth”, unfolding his wings and darting up into the clouds. From the clouds he waited, until sure enough, he could make out the five riders starting their dash across the bridge from the bridgehead. The young man was nowhere to be seen, but William was bidden to wait for the sign, and so he did. He watched the five riders speed in a perfect V formation across the bridge, their Viridian green capes dancing in the wind behind them as night fell, the lights and songs of party at the Imperial Palace filling the air even as high up as the clouds, the flickering of festival almost distracting William from his mission. And sure enough, as the young man had said, a rain of arrows flew to the riders, slaying their horses, and bringing them to a halt on the middle section of the bridge. William grasped his sword more tightly as he watched, anxiously awaiting for the signal, until the clouds suddenly burst open, and from behind he was bathed in intense moonlight, making him appear as if he was glowing. Dumbstruck, the five knights and their would be attackers, who also donned the Viridian capes, looked up, gazing at William whom they could not recognize as Ailor, but rather as a winged armored being, bearing the Unionist eye, aloft in the clouds and descending in a beam of light that announced his arrival. Descending to the bridge, William immediately struck his blade out to the nearest ambusher, weaving between them with flight, while the five Viridians behind him were emboldened and yelled out Unionist prayers during the fight, convinced that the Spirit had sent them a sign of their righteous virtue. What had been an outnumbered fight, sure to lead to the death of the riders, was quickly turning around as William disabled one after the other, and the knights were broken free of the blockade. Unsure where to proceed from there, the Knights turned and kneeled before William with their swords out, speaking in that same funny language William did not understand. He instinctively simply threw out his hand, as if to command them to continue, and sure enough they did, sheathing their weapons, and turning their backs on William continuing on to the Imperial Palace beyond, the red blood-stained capes waving their departure as the young man approached William from behind. He gave a mocking kick to one of the ambushers, waving his hands around at them all a couple of times while he absently spoke to William: “Don’t worry, these men’s souls had long since passed before their mortal form even met your blade. You can’t see what possessed them, but it was evil nonetheless, and you rid the world of its effects.” He walked closer to William who had turned to look at him again, stopping just before William, as he breathed in deep and exhaled slowly. He added: “You’ve done adequately. Not excellent. Just adequate.” And with that, he grabbed the Unionist Necklace, ripped it from William’s neck, and then pushed his hand against his breastplate, causing William against to fall backwards, returning to his ever falling sensation he had when he first entered the scene, until moments later, his consciousness landed on a bench in the Dragon Temple. Familiar. The same. Assembly present. Only one Cathedral tower. Was this it?
