Sword and Flame

Emrys. The Archon of Flame. Now sat in front of the Archon of Sword, Thisreon.

Ignoring the manner-less brute, she instead sat there peacefully, appreciating the quiet little spring she stumbled upon, on her way to find Thisreon's abode.

Remembering here initial reason for having even considered to visit this battle-crazed lunatic, Emrys declared: "The order is aware that you are spending too much time perusing the lives of lower life forms, and is concerned about your mental health. Perhaps it is time for you to move on from this boundary of worlds and enter the next realm proper. As you should."

Upon seeing her fellow Archon promptly ignoring her, she faked a cough. Unleashing her aura at the Archon, hoping to see how he reacts. She has managed to scare quite a lot of Archons already, believing her to be a weak newly-ascended being still reeking of mortal affairs.

*Cough

Suddenly. Emrys felt something akin to a soft breeze run by her neck, upon looking down and raising her hand to feel for whatever might have caused the disturbance, she started falling. Or, It would be more precise to say that her head, was falling.

No longer attached to her neck.

She proceeded with haste to grab and reattach her appendage when she noticed the Archon Thisreon, no, The Archon of the Sword gazing upon her, feeling his piercing gaze boring down on her was a new kind of experience she hoped that she would never have to go through again.

Now bathed in the full brunt of the Archon's aura, and undivided attention. She struggles to put together any coherent sounding words. Her prepared speech about matters of the mortal realm flew out of the window the moment she slighted this being of unparalelled strength.

Seeing the freshly-ascended child recognizing her fault, feeling the immense fear she now exuded.

Thisreon lifted his aura from Emrys slightly, allowing her to speak her mind. Hopefully, she would choose her words better this time.

"i-I Sincerely apologize for overstepping my bounds. It was never in my mind to show such insolent behaviour. I must admit, I am still mortal in that regard. Please forgive this one for this slight, and I shall do my best to repay your favor shown upon me today."

Turning away from the sobbing child, Thisreon spoke in a soft voice: "Do you wish to further ruin my mood with your non-sense, or do you have an actual reason for being here?"

"P-please, Archon of the Sword, I-"

"Just refer to me as Sword. And no, don't ruin whatever unfavorable opinion I have of you any further. Do you know what I think? Your true reason for being here? You got played."

Confused, Emrys raised her head, looking at the small smile being displayed on Sword's face, Baffled by his announcement, she inquires:

"Honored Sword, Would you be so gracious and share some of your thoughts on the matter?"

Seeing his fellow Archon fail to perceive the forces at play, Thisreon is disappointed and further elaborates.

"The old farts at the Order decided to pull a prank on you. Tired of seeing you act so high and mighty, flaring your aura around like a child throwing a tantrum, they sent you to me as a reminder that they wish to get rid of me and replace me with 'proper Archon material'."

"Now, Go."

Nodding towards Sword, Emrys stood up and vanished in a burst of flames, likely back to her own island.

Thinking inwardly, Thisreon acknowledges that it is his fault to begin with. Almost every other Archon who has come to this divide between planes has either ascended or found a suitable student and nurtured them to ascension, allowing them to join as peers.

Ever since the twelve deities at the Order first heard of Thisreon's plan to duel his replacement into forced ascension, they found the idea fresh and exciting, encouraging Thisreon to carry out his plan.

Yet, luck proved to be a fickle mistress. For thousands of years. Thisreon kept getting disappointed with the mortal world's standards, never managing to produce a single talented Sword Saint of which the Archon would approve. They were all failures, unable to grasp the most important factor in the Path of the Sword. And that's why they were all trash.

Except for one.

During his usual sparring session with his friend and fellow Archon, the Archon of War. Thisreon felt a resonance with his path coming from the mortal world. Curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to peer beyond the veil into the mortal realm.

And there he saw a 9-year-old child holding what appeared to be his father's sword.