🕯️ The Book of Malvaron – Entry I: The Breath and the Abyss

A sacred tale from the Prophet Malvaron’s chronicles, recorded before the expedition to Halorion.

✨ Introduction

Before he was known across the stars as the Flame-Seer of Lucidia, Malvaron was a teacher — a storyteller who kindled the hearts of the young with truths older than time. In this first recovered entry from The Book of Malvaron, we glimpse a moment of stillness and prophecy before a great journey begins.

📜 Temple Archives of Dawtha, Lumineth Valley

Planet Dawtha, Lucidian Star System

The stone chamber pulsed with quiet expectancy. A dozen children sat in a ring beneath the arched dome, where the silvery glow of Lucidia — resplendent in the heavens — cast long shafts of light through latticed windows etched with radiant sigils. High above, Serenara, the dream-moon of Lucidia, hovered quietly behind its parent world, its veiled crescent gleaming like an eye half-closed in meditation.

The scent of old parchment and polished crystal lingered in the air, mingling with the low hum of an ever-burning flame suspended at the room’s center.

Malvaron, cloaked in robes the color of twilight embers, knelt before them holding a single candle. The flame trembled softly — a whisper of Radiance.

He lifted his gaze skyward through the crystal dome.

“Serenara,” he said gently, his voice echoing like distant wind through the chamber. “The moon of mystery. The silent eye. When she veils herself behind Lucidia, we call it The Quiet Watching — a sign not of absence... but of hidden presence.”

The children turned their eyes upward, some curious, some wide with wonder.

“It is during this alignment,” Malvaron continued, “that the ancient prophets believed the cosmos listens more than it speaks. A time when the Radiance teaches not through words, but through stillness... through awe... through dreams.”

He turned his gaze back to the circle.

“Tonight, the heavens have aligned — not just above, but within you. Each of you is here by design. Called, not merely to study scrolls or learn the stories of stars... but to awaken to them.”

He paused, letting the flame of the candle dance in silence for a moment longer.

“In time, I will have to leave you. There is a path I must walk, a vision I must seek. But until then... I will show you how to see. Not just with your eyes—but with your soul.”

“Before the stars,” Malvaron began, “there was the Flame. And before the Flame, there was only the Will.”

He paused, letting the children absorb his words.

“Aurenos, the Infinite Flame, spoke — and from His voice came Eluxenor, the Living Flame, and from His breath, the Radiance. It was through Radiance that all was created.”

The candle flickered brighter in his hand. One of the older girls leaned in, her eyes shining.

“But what about the Void, Master Malvaron? When did it come?”

Malvaron’s eyes softened with the weight of memory — not his own, but echoes from beyond the Veil.

“The Void came not in opposition, but in harmony,” he said. “Veydranos, the Abyssal Flame, ruled it wisely… once.”

“There was a time — long forgotten by many — when the Radiance and the Void served together. Radiance would create, and the Void would clear away. Darkness would make way for dawn. Chaos made room for new order. Balance was maintained, and Veydranos knew his place in the song of the cosmos.”

He stood and began slowly pacing the circle, candle held like a scepter.

“But pride is the poison of purpose. Veydranos looked upon the creation of Aurenos… and coveted it.”

The candle dimmed.

“He believed the Void deserved dominion. That he alone should rule the stars. And so he led a revolt. A great war beyond all wars — a war that shattered the Veil and ruptured the great Astraveda Star. The explosion birthed the four Realms… and scattered the traitor and his host into their shadows.”

The children were still. Even the youngest no longer squirmed.

Then Malvaron stopped walking. He held the candle close and gazed at its flame.

“The light you see above is no metaphor,” he said softly. “It breathes. It calls. And it has a name.”

He paused, letting the words settle like dew.

“The Radiance is not merely energy. It is the Breath of Aurenos, the Infinite Flame. It flows from the One who is beyond knowing — and yet makes Himself known. He is the Source of all that is good, and all that is true.”

One of the children, a boy with silver-flecked eyes, raised a hand.

“But teacher… if the Radiance is real, then is the Void real too?”

A hush fell over the group. Even the candle seemed to flicker in anticipation.

Malvaron nodded solemnly.

“Yes. The Void is real — and it whispers still.”

He held up the candle… and then snuffed it out with a breath. Darkness claimed the chamber for a brief moment.

“Veydranos, The Abyssal Flame, was once radiant, but now consumed by pride. He desired worship, not wonder — power, not peace. And in his fall, along with the Void, he birthed a corruption that twists truth into shadow and seduces the proud with lies cloaked in freedom.”

He lit the candle once more. The light returned — gentle, yet unwavering.

“Some in our cities say the Radiance and Void are merely balance — necessary halves of creation. Others say they are myths, meant to guide moral choice. But I tell you this…”

His voice rose, quiet thunder echoing through the room:

“The Radiance is alive. And the Void is a lie that lives.”

A quiet voice rose from the back — firm, thoughtful.

“Then the balance was broken by rebellion. Not by the Void itself.”

All turned to the speaker. It was Luximian Aurellion, crown prince of Lucidia, his eyes bright with early wisdom.

Malvaron smiled, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his ancient features.

“Indeed, young flame. The Void was a servant of order… until it chose dominion.”

Then another voice spoke — hesitant, but curious. It came from Luximian’s brother, Noximus. His eyes were darker, stormier — always searching, always questioning.

“But if the Void was once part of the balance… is it possible it could be again? What if it could be redeemed, or… used for good?”

Gasps stirred from some of the children. Malvaron studied the boy carefully.

“A fair question,” he said at last. “And a dangerous one.”

He knelt again, returning the candle to the floor.

“Redemption is possible… but not without surrender. The Void, as it is now, does not wish to serve. It wishes to rule. Its seduction is clever — it offers power, cloaked in purpose. But that power, once taken, never serves anyone but itself.”

He looked at Noximus — not with anger, but with solemnity.

“Beware sympathy for a flame that only consumes. Even noble hearts can be lured into believing they can tame it.”

Noximus said nothing more, but his gaze lingered on the candle’s flame.

Malvaron turned back to them all.

“Each of you carries a spark. Some will fan it. Others will forget it. But one day, you will be asked to choose — not by decree or sword, but in silence, in sorrow, in struggle. That choice will define more than your path. It will echo through time.”

The bell of the outer hall rang once — the signal for departure. He turned toward the marble archway that led to the starport beyond. A lone Veda Knight waited there, silent and gleaming in radiant armor. Their expedition to Halorion would not wait long.

Malvaron gathered his scrolls and rose, casting one last glance at the children.

“Walk in the Flame. Listen to the Breath. And guard your hearts… for the Abyss still whispers.”

With that, the prophet turned and walked into the light of the corridor, the first leg of his expedition about to begin.

📚 Want to Know More?

If this tale stirred your spirit, follow along as The Book of Malvaron continues. This flash fiction series offers glimpses into the sacred journey of Lucidia’s most mysterious prophet — and the divine battle unfolding across the stars.

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