Crimson Luminary
Twenty Fourth Day of the Fourth Month 294 AC
You had not expected the Florents to be here already, but it is easy to understand why your mother had decided to send their invitation early. The look in Erren Florent's eyes when you he sees spirits armed and armored in the faith and power of the Red God stand shoulder to shoulder with furies garbed in imperial crimson and soot black armor is that of a man who will never consider treachery against the crown.
In his eyes, this moment is no doubt one where your rule is anointed by his new god, though that is not exactly what is happening as you walk between basalt columns and under arches depicting the life of Azor Ahai illuminated by ever-burning torches, but you will take the loyalty and not worry overmuch about the details. After all, he is hardly alone in his beliefs. By the latest estimations, you have seen as many as eight in ten of Imperial citizens who hold faith in the Red God believe also that you are Azor Ahai come again.
"The False Queen of Fire is no more, my lord," Mereth proclaims as the procession stops briefly between her and Yrael. Under the hallowed light of this place, one could easily mistake her and her sisters for the stern angels of judgement they once were, even as the crimson light of the lanterns stains the Achons' wings the color of newly shed blood.
"And unto you I say well done, as I do unto all those who not only avenged the suffering of Volantis and other realms that fell under her cruel eye, but ensured such a fate could never again befall the citizens of the Empire. May this temple mark more than merely a seal of victory and epitaph for the fallen heroes, may it be a place where victory is commemorated in the light and warmth it casts upon our future."
Mereth Leveled Up
The words carry much further than the echoes upon polished stone would tell. Though the temple itself does not contain many onlookers, the ceremony is reflected in dozens of mirrors across the Empire,
broadcast as the term had developed, it being the farthest reaching spell cast by mortal hands in this new age of magic, as far as any in your realm know.
As you walk up the winding path to the unlit flame set atop the temple's highest point, you find your eyes wandering beyond the procession to the structure itself, wrought in neo-Valyrian style than fits both the city and the god it honors. It seems to swallow the sounds of your tread a touch faster than it aught, a hush laid in the deep shadows between the torches that makes you suspect there may be more than the hand of the divine upon it. A glance towards the Lady Melisandre confirms your suspicions. She had spun some enchantment of shadow, of distant Asshai here, that the fire of her god would burn all the brighter for it. That she managed it in the few days before she set out to war against Ymeri only increases your opinion of her skill and subtlety both.
The evening air hits you, touched with a hint of myrrh and holy oils from the unlit brazier, and the faintly metallic scent that still has the gift of raising your hackles on sheer instinct.
Another dragon is near. Pushing aside the atavistic reaction with the skill of long practice, you nod to Amrelath perched on a ledge meant specifically for the use of wyrms, as the flowing draconic script proclaims.
He has grown, the same instinct whispers in your ear, but rather than wariness, you feel satisfaction. The Ash Risen is far from growing beyond you and thus his strength only adds to yours.
Amrelath Leveled Up
What offerings to you give to the Lord of Light in the Kindling of the Temple's flame?
[] Write in
OOC: You guys can vote on the level ups too if you want. 
