Prelude to Crisis: Fall of the Witchlight Emperor and the Crisis of Succession

Death of Lord Ouain Keim Caatoben̂, the Witchlight Emperor

In the many weeks following the divine blinding and abdication of Saintess Ceyóse. Her husband, Emperor Ouain, was said to have been consumed by vague and ominous premonitions. Emperor Ouain was a warrior of Mpyadai descent. As a young man, he grew up firmly believing in starlight mysticism—a syncretic faith blending Ir'valashin prophecy, Hendálic spiritualism, and Mpyadai martial rituals. This belief swelled ever stronger as he rose to the second-highest seat of the Luminous Empire, as the Witchlight Emperor. As these visions persisted, Emperor Ouain would appear less and less on his vaunted throne. Night after night, the Witchlight Emperor visited the Grey Altar of Moonlight, the first and grandest of the Imperial Moon Shrines. And there he lay, draped in a cloak of urcaaśi and mottled in ddáswle talmen̂, bowing before the hewn image of Hendál. Without succor or drink, there, Emperor Ouain prayed for many hours. For countless weeks, this continued.   Until one gloomy night.   On 863 V.O., 41st day of Plum Orchard, the Witchlight Emperor would disappear from his imperial bedchamber, with neither servant nor guard. Never to return. That morning, the imperial palace would awake to find their emperor missing. The imperial guard rushed into action, scouring the palace and its outskirts desperately. They combed the very foundations of the imperial capital, Átcelivnt. And yet there was no trace of him. A servant would return to clean the throne room. There, lying upon the Witchlight throne, was Ógókuimé Prhábtéd, a curved, sickle-shaped sabor, carved of dried redthorn, suffused in moonlight.   A treasured gift, given to him by his wife, the Daylight Empress.   This revelation threw the Imperial Synod into chaos. How could this happen? Where had he gone? What could have caused this? Was Lord Ouain truly missing? There were so many questions. Fear. Doubt. Blame. Thrown back and forth. But that would not return their emperor. And for several weeks, despite the imperial authority's best efforts, Lord Ouain remained missing. Among the imperial nobles, the whispers of the emperor's disappearance began to spread. Within the halls of the Church, an air of fear began to creep into the clergy. Day after day, the imperial princesses led campaigns in search of their father.   Until one day, the Witchlight Emperor returned.   On 863 V.O., 13th day of Devil's Flame, a haggard man of Mpyadai descent walked the streets of the imperial capital, Átcelivnt. He wore naught but an old pair of nvipráfen̂. His fiery red hair. Long, matted, and unruly. Yet within his gilded eyes was a calm pool, brimming with a near ethereal composure and strength. On his body lay radiant symbols. Flaming letters, azure images, golden demons. The traditional markings of the Mpyadai warriors. His feet bare, the man walked to the center of the city, standing before the Loddáne Vencádte osg. Then, the man weakly knelt before the funerary garden and prayed solemnly. Lifting his head, he pointed toward the ceremonial pyres and took command of their bright, soothing flames.   It would be there, at midday, that the man, no Ouain Keim Caatoben̂, would set himself aflame in the warming streets of the imperial capital. Upon his lips, he said calmly, “Li Ásgred t̂easpr az seuvn, lubte oss az nad.” In a horrid roar of flaming, blue-tinged light, the blaze swallowed him whole in an instant. By the time the imperial guard reached those funerary gardens, it was far too late.   The Witchlight Emperor was dead.   Recounting the tragic events of that day, many would say, "It was as if his fiery red hair had consumed him whole."