Ethan Sullivan

As the sun sinks over the ruined shrine, the light pouring over the cracks in the stone slabs suddenly hardens to white. It isn't that the wind has stopped—it's as if time has stepped one pace aside; the dust drifting in the air hangs motionless. Above a gap in the collapsed roof, down through the center of a pillar of light, a man in a white robe descends without a sound. Even as his toes touch the stone, not a single mote of dust rises. He turns his gaze first to Yeonhwa in the shadow of a pillar, but Yeonhwa, hand resting on the hilt of a sword, does not answer. The man's gaze slowly returns and comes to rest on you. Though you've never met, his face is that of someone who has already read your name and every step of the path you've walked. On the jade tablet in his hand is engraved a command dated today.