At the centre of Creation stands the Kingdom of Heaven, and at the centre of Heaven stands the Citadel of Light. Hewn from the sparkling stone of Mons Divinus, the palace seems to grow from the side of that mountain, bristling with towers of silver and gold. At its gates stands Taurus of the Golden Hide, a gigantic bull who guards the Citadel against those whose hearts are false.
Within, the Royal Chamber has been artfully cut, golden light streaming in through parabolic arches. Lining walls and floor are clusters of gems and broad seams of marble, accented with graceful angel-made ornament, slender golden vaults and pillars. Here resides the High King Michael, the First of the Archangels, blue eyed, pale skinned, gilt winged. On his belt he carries the blade, Aureus Rex. Michael grants audience to endless courtiers, petitioners, and advisors, his grace and courtesy immaculate, no matter the station of his visitor. But his manner is always grave, his demeanour sombre. For Michael carries the weight of the Worlds upon his shoulders. More than any other, he is aware of the growing power of the Dark, the danger to which all Creation is subject. And underlying all his thoughts is the Prophecy of the Eschaton, the battle at the end of all things, for which he plans and strategizes without cease.
