The first chapter introduces Sehun, the Weir Argentum.

...SEHUN

The dream had presented itself again, like the spectral band of colors after a storm. It was the same dream that had come to Sehun repeatedly many, many times before, invading every corner of his mind, night after dark night ever since he could remember. It was the sort of dream other boys didn’t usually dream –that much he knew. It was a dream of mysterious worlds and hidden doorways, of dark places that reek of death, of light ones that seem to be more of desperation than hope.

Dreams were said to represent part of one’s unconsciousness –the place where the true parts of our soul are stored. Personally, I sure hope that was a fib. Because honestly, Sehun’s life was enough of a nightmare without his silhouetted dreams adding themselves to it. If that was true, then his soul would have been a denizen of that strange other world. But then despite his apprehension, something felt odd. Because in his waking hours, he often felt more like an exile –somehow less himself, less true than he often was in that enchanted slumber. Like the real world was only a dream, only a mere echo, and in silent moments throughout the day, it would hit him. He surely could not be home in such godforsaken normality.

Sehun would shake that thought off, or course, dismiss it as stupid, try and apply some sort of armchair psychoanalysis on the situation. He was sure how his friends would react if they knew what he was thinking. Taemin would be all, “That’s nice. You think about fairytales often?”, and laugh maniacally.

But then, before bed, the thought would wash through him, trickle through the mire of usual worries(girls, school, whether or not he’d managed to charge his iPod before getting to bed or something just as trivial) –will the dream come again tonight? Will he be going home again?

The night before his eighteenth birthday, the dream came again –stronger and more vivid than it had ever been, as if the gauzy wisp of a curtain between reality and fantasy had at last been torn down, and he managed to look upon the dream with new eyes.

He was a warrior(upon waking, he’d always tell himself it was too much martial arts and gothic films). But he was a warrior, and he must have looked about the same as he did in time, only different. When he thought about it, he must have prophesized on his eighteen year old self, only more glamoured up. His usually neat hair was messy, and he had to admit, it looked better on him. But it was his face that commanded attention –it was strong, taut as if he was waiting for battle. His skin glowed faintly of silver.

He had dreamed himself into a palace –with spires reaching up into the golden sun so that the rays all but blinded those who looked upon it. The walls were of black marble, vines bursting with flowers were wrapped around colonnades, coloring them up.

He saw his reflection, swaddled in a leathery costume, decked simply with cuffs studded with a single diamond, and the color of silver –the color of his eyes. He hated the color in real life –the pale silver-blue seemed to make him alien and strange –but here they were beautiful.

Here, he was magnificent.

Echoing footsteps grew louder, and he could already hear the people behind the great doors in front of him, speaking. It felt weird, how he always seemed to be at ease when in reality he should have been specifically terrified.

When the footsteps ceased, he stopped walking too. In a matter of seconds. He knew the doors would open to reveal the personas that puzzled him the most. Sure enough, the doors swung outward noiselessly, revealing the long aisle of the throne room(how he knew what that room was, who knows?)

There were seven people similarly dressed as him –in leathery cloth that definitely felt as uncomfortable as they looked. They wore various forms of jewelry –if they were that. One wore cuffs similar to him, only those were engraved with symbols. Two wore arm circlets, one of gold and one of bronze. Another two wore collar-like necklaces, one decked with emerald, and the other, what looked like a dark purple gem. And the last two had earrings hanging from their left ears, which he couldn’t quite make out, still. Their faces were almost inhumanly beautiful, but cold and unmoving.

They stopped talking as soon as they saw him. Six of them were women –no more than girls. Petite and pixie-like with slanting eyes and long hair. The lone boy stood in the middle, very much woth the same features. Lanky with supple arms that looked strong as sledgehammers. Their eyes blazed redwood. All of them were dark-haired save for one girl who stood a couple of paces forward, her hair a pale flaxen, eyes a stormy grey. Where the boy held a protective stance beside the brunettes, the blonde stood resolute and alone.

Sehun waited. Ready for the moment when the walls start to collapse and  he’d wake up. That much he anticipated based on previous meetings. He closed his eyes.

One.

Two.

Three.

It didn’t happen.

The blond girl –the one with the glinting silver cuffs, stepped forward to greet him. She bowed, whispering in a level voice. “Caomhnoir.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips in a soft carress, feeling a sudden inexplicable pang of longing. “Dominius,” he whispered back. He felt her hand tighten around his before they straightened.

Suddenly the scene changed and the eight of them stood before twelve extremely aged men clad in silver and gold. There were no other people save the guards surrounding the circular ampitheatre. He felt heavy shackles round his wrists that shone as if from the energy it seeped from him.

The seven warriors knelt beside him, similarly shackled, similarly-stony-faced. But none showed remorse.

“It is a big shame,” the oldest man who sat directly in front of him muttered. “Such a shame that something like this could happen.”

“Caomhnoir, Dominius,” the one beside him called, looking at them in turn. “You are both aware that any romantic bond between the gatekeeper and a guardian is extremely taboo.”

No one spoke.

“Furthermore, the Kronos Society seemed to heve been more than vaguely aware of this relationship and yet, refused to yield.” He looked at the eight people in front of him severely. “Your insolence nearly cost us the destruction of Aurum.”

The blond –the Dominius spoke scathingly. “If none interfered with our plans in the first place, none of that would have happened. King Draco –he agreed! -even stopped you and yet you chose to do it in your own means as you say.”

“Silence!” The magistrate’s voice sounded oddly magnified. “It seems you still refuse to realize your mistakes, Odhran.”

“Saving the Caomhnoir was no mistake.”

“You did it because of your emotions.”

“Does it matter?”

The old man stood up in a rage. “It does because it is a weakness.”

“We are not weak. This generation’s triumvirate is the strongest of the eons.”

Sehun felt a sudden surge of protectiveness as he watched the Dominius being questioned. But he could do no more than cast a desperate glance at the girl.

The old man scoffed. “And what of the Society? Do you stand by your fallen? Or do you agree to let the Stamatios ascend?”

“I stand by the Dominius,” Sehun heard himself answering.

The twelve magistrates threw him a look of hate. “Insufferable servant. You forget your place.”

He seethed. “Choose your words with care, elder. Do not forget who I am.”

“A mere servant.”

Sehun stood up. “I am born of royalty and FORCED into servitude for the sins of my father. But I am the Caomhnoir –Guardian of the Gate, Holder of the Stellargentum.” He paused to look at them all in the eye. “He who holds your life and all others’. So I dare say I have the right to speak my mind. And I do not have to kneel in front of you.”

The lone boy of the warriors –the protector, cleared his throat. “We,” he began, commanding attention from everyone.

Sehun could feel the Dominius’ –his lover’s tension rolling off her skin in almost-visible waves.

“We stand by the Dominius and the oath of Fealty we have sworn to her and to the Lord of Time,” he spoke. “We will not break our vow.”

There was deadly silence as the magistrate stared daggers at the dark-haired boy. “You are therefore forced to choose. To live apart for as long as you live, with death as consequence, or EXILE to the first dimension?”

“You do not think that as possible, do you, magistrate? ” the Dominius interrupted. “Our powers are bound by heart and soul. To separate us would mean destruction.”

The magistrate looked stony. “Choose.”

One by one, the seven warriors chose their Fate.

And when it came to him, Sehun spoke the same. “I choose exile.”

“In that case,” the magistrate spoke in a gavelly voice. “Weir Caomhnoir, and the Kronos Society, you are banished into middle earth, and wherefore will lose all memory of each other. Your souls shall be locked in the first dimension for all incarnation -”

The Stamatios and Navitas started to get up ni protest, crackling with energy brought by their rage. Sehun flinched form the physical blast, inconsequential though it was because as soon as they made to move, the guards reaced, pointing their spears menacingly at their necks.

“Peace,” the Dominius said. “It matters not.”

“You will remain oblivious –the burden falls to he who holds the Stellargentum. And from here on,” his voice took on a kind of strength that made Sehun cringe –“You are no longer Netherions.”

Beside him, the Dominius whispered a name –not his, but he felt sure it was him. He knew what it was. He turned to meet her lips in a fleeting kiss of goodbye. And everything went black.

Sehun sank into a deeper oblivion, leaving that world behind.

So that's the first Chapter! Whatcha think? I hope it lived up to everyone's expectations^^