At the conclusion of their intense meeting, the council finally reached a unanimous decision: they would follow Lucien's plan to cancel the sacrifices and prepare for war.
Before dispersing, Elowen leaned forward, her voodoo doll bouncing on the table as she addressed Elder Alaric. "I'll need a meeting with your general—after breakfast time." She said firmly, leaving no room for argument.
Alaric nodded briskly, already rising from his seat. "it's done, I'll arrange it immediately."
She then turned to Elder Gawain. "and send a messenger to Liora. Tell her to meet me and Agapios at Solara Temple at noon."
With that, the group disbanded, each member rushing to fulfill their respective tasks, before jumping to their pillow and warm bed. The weight of the decisions hung heavy in the air, but there was a flicker of hope—a fragile light that might guide them through the chaos ahead.
The next day, Elowen found herself seated across from the kingdom's general, with Elder Alaric quietly observing nearby.
The general, a grizzled man with more scars than teeth, puffed out his chest proudly when Elowen inquired about the army's capabilities.
"our archers? Arguably the best among the remaining human kingdoms, it's only second to now-gone 'Ironhelm's Longbowmen'!" he declared, thumping his fist against the table for emphasis.
Then, after a pause, he added sheephisly, "as for the rest… well, let's just say farmers aren't drilled for combat."
Elowen smirked faintly, clearly amused by his bluster. "good. Your archers will be crucial. Have them stockpile arrows—and plenty of fire—tipped ones. We'll need them ready for what's coming."
Her tone grew serious as she continued. "your infantry will serve as the vanguard. Drill them hard because if 'plan A' fails, they'll have to hold the line long enough for us to regroup."
The general straigthened, saluting sharply. "understood, mam. You have my word—we'll be ready." He glanced briefly at Alaric, who gave a subtle nod of approval before the general marched off to execute the orders.
As the Elder and Elowen strolled through the camps afterward, inspecting the troops, Elowen couldn't help but mutter dryly, "let's hope these 'farmers with spears and shields' live up to their new job descriptions."
Meanwhile, at the same time, the square buzzed with anticipation as the citizens of Sanctora gathered, their whispers mingling like a restless tide.
Standing on the raised platform, flanked by council members and a soldier holding a golden-ribboned parchment, Elder Lucien cleared her throat dramatically before nodding to the soldier.
With all the theatrical flair of someone who had rehearsed this moment far too many times, he unrolled the scroll and bellowed its contents to the crowd:
"people of Sanctora! By decree of the council, the sacred pilgrimage to the mountain shall be canceled this year due to an imminent threat from the cave-orcs, whose raid has been scouted near our borders. In light of this danger, we must unite and prepare for battle to defend our kingdom!" the words hung in the air like storm clouds, heavy and foreboding.
For a moment, there was silence—then the murmurs erupted. Clusters of villagers exchanged glances, some visibly relieved that their loved ones wouldn't have to ascend the mountain this year, while others fretted openly about what come next.
"no sacrifices? Finally!" one woman exclaimed, clutching her chest as though she'd dodged a crosbow bolt.
Nearby, a farmer scratched his head skeptically. "but wait—if those orcs are coming, who's gonna stop them? The same folks who were harvesting potatoes last month?" his friend snorted, nudging him playfully.
"well, maybe they'll throw turnips at the enemy. Heard those things can knock out a troll if you aim right!" laughter rippled through part of the crowd, easing the tension slightly—but concern lingered heavily beneath the humor.
Mothers clutched their children closer, elders muttered prayers under their breath, and young men exchanged nervous look, realizing they might soon trade hoes for spears.
Despite the unease, no one questioned the sudden decision; grattitude for the canceled sacrifice tempered their fears, even as doubts about the army's readiness swirled like autumn leaves in the wind, and the crowd leaving the square in an orderly manner.
Noon arrives at Solara Temple, Liora sat alone on one of the wooden benches across the preaching podium, lost in thought. The weight of everything pressed down on her shoulders, her mind a whirlwind of doubts and fears.
The sunlight streamed through the tall stained-glass windows of the temple, casting colorful patterns on the stone floor.
She had always found solace in this place, but today, even the sacred aura of Solara Temple couldn't ease her troubled thoughts. T
he echoes of recent story of the battles with the orcs lingered in her mind, replaying moments when she doubted herself—when she questioned whether she truly deserved to wield such power.
When thinking about it, and the common situation of the time and the weather, her memories drifted far into the past, she remembered a moment with the mother she loved.
The scent of wildflowers drifted through the open window, carried by the warm evening breeze.
The sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting a golden glow over the small home where a mother and daughter sat together, side by side. Liora was only ten, her legs curled beneath her as she hugged a thick, leather-bound book to her chest.
"Mama," she murmured, "why do we always have to be strong?" Rose Harlan smiled gently, brushing a strand of Liora's dark hair behind her ear. "Because the world is not always kind, my little star." Her voice was soft, filled with warmth, yet tinged with something deeper—a sorrow she never spoke aloud.
Liora frowned, shifting closer. "But you're kind and brave," she said stubbornly. "Papa and Uncle are strong. And everyone in Sanctora is supposed to protect each other, right? So why do I have to be strong too?"
Rose let out a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of Liora's head. "Because strength isn't just about fighting, my love. Sometimes, strength is about standing when everything tells you to fall."
Liora looked up at her mother, wide-eyed. "Like a warrior?" Rose hesitated, then shook her head with a small smile.
"No. Like the sun, even when the night tries to swallow it whole." Liora scrunched her nose. "That doesn't make sense." Rose chuckled, pulling her daughter into a gentle embrace. "One day, it will."
The evening breeze stirred, filling the room with the scent of wildflowers once more. And though Liora did not yet understand the weight of her mother's words, she would remember them. Always.
Liora's mind wander to the past, she barely noticed the sound of the temple doors creaking open as Elowen and Agapios entered.
Elowen exchanged a glance with the Grand Priest, silently asking him to proceed while she approached Liora. Sitting beside the young woman, Elowen studied her profile for a moment before speaking softly.
"You're not okay, are you?" startled, Liora turned, managing a weak smile. "i-I'm fine," she murmured hesitantly, though her trembling voice betrayed her uncertainty.
Elowen sighed, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "listen carefully, Liora. The council has agreed to stop the sacrifices. We're going to fight the orcs—and I'll be there to ensure we survive. Evelyn will be safe."
Tears welled up in Liora's eyes, spilling over as relief and worry collided within her. Elowen gently wiped away a stray tear, her voice firm yet comforting.
"you've been chosen by the Starlight Staff—a relic that hasn't acknowledged anyone in centuries. Not me, not even the Great Mages. That means something extraordinary lies within you. Trust yourself, Liora. This isn't just about saving Evelyn anymore. If you unlock the power waiting for you here, you can save the entire human race. Imagine it: a future where humanity doesn't just cling to survival but thrives."
"It won't just be a dream—or even worse a joke anymore—with you leading the way." Liora sniffled, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her dress before giving Elowen a shaky but genuine smile.
"thank you… for believing in me," she whispered, her voice steadier now. Elowen smirked lightly, patting her shoulder. "don't thank me yet. We've got work to do."
Liora tilted her head curiously. "what exactly are we doing here? Elowen stood, gesturing toward the inner sanctum of the temple where Agapios waited patiently.
"that sealed door? It's yours to open. Whatever lies beyond it will shape not only your destiny but ours as well. Ready to take the first step?" Liora took a deep breath, rising to her feet with newfound resolve.
For the first time since this journey began, she felt a glimmer of confidence—not just in herself, but in the path laid out before her. As Liora stood before the sealed door, her hands trembling slightly at her sides, Grand priest Agapios approached her with measured steps.
He glanced briefly at the ancient barrier, his expression a mix of reverence and unease, before turning to face Liora. "this room behind the sealed door," he began solemnly, his voice echoing faintly in the dimly lit corridor, "is the original temple. Built by Saint Felix himself, it predates everything else you see here today. The rest of the structure—the halls, the altars, the gardens—was constructed later, a joint effort between Felix and and the villagers as a testament to unity and faith."
He paused, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "of course, over the centuries, rumors have swirled about what lies within. Some say it's a trophy room filled with the heads of enemies Felix vanquished—though I doubt he had time for such grisly hobbies."
"Others claim it holds untold riches or even scandalous documents exposing the secrets of the other saints." Agapios chuckled dryly, shaking his head.
"absurd, really. But one thing is certain: every generation of Grand Priest has been tasked with guiding the chosen one to this door—and waiting outside while they enter. If the chosen fails…" his tone grew somber.
"a sign will appear on the door, and we must seal it again using powerful magic. Unfortunately, that spells require more energy than any human body can withstand. Suffice to say, my role ends there."
Liora swallowed hard, her eyes darting between Agapios and the imposing door. "so… even you don't know what's inside?" she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. Agapios shook his head gently.
"only this: Saint Felix told the first Grand Priest that within resides the mercy—or perhaps the gift—of God. Beyond that, it is not our place to speculate."
Before Liora could spiral further into her spiraling thoughts, Elowen stepped forward, arms crossed and clearly frowing impatient.
"lovely history lesson, your Holiness, but we're running out of time," she interjected sharply, her voodoo doll twitching ominously at her side.
Agapios shot her a disapproving glare but nodded reluctantly. "she's right my child. You must proceed now. Trust in yourself—and trust in whatever awaits you beyond this threshold."
With that, Grand Priest Agapios turned to Liora with a sense of gravity that silenced even the faint hum of anticipation in the air. He carefully retrieved the Starlight Staff from its velvet-lined case and held it out to her, his hands steady despite the weight of the moment.
"take this," he said softly, his voice carrying unspoken reverence. "it is yours now—not just as a tool, but as a symbol of your destiny." Liora hesitated for only a heartbeat before accepting the staff, its cool metal surface sending a strange warmth coursing through her fingertips.
Agapios then stepped toward the sealed door, raising both hands in a slow, deliberate motion. His lips moved silently as he chanted a brief incantation, his fingers tracing ancient runes carved into the stone.
As the last syllable left his mouth, a new carving emerged on the door's surface—a perfect outline shaped like the Starlight Staff.
"Place it there," Agapios instructed, stepping aside to allow Liora forward. Clutching the staff tightly, she approached the door and gently slotted it into the indentation.
The moment the staff clicked into place, the globe flared brilliantly, bathing the chamber in radiant light. The intricate carvings on the door glowed faintly, pulsing with energy as if alive, before the barrier began to shift. With a low rumble, the massive door creaked open, revealing a dazzling cascade of golden-white light spilling outward like liquid sunshine.
Liora turned back one final time, meeting Elowen's piercing gaze and Agapios's solemn nod. She offered them a small, nervous smile—one filled with equal parts fear and determination—before stepping across the treshold.
As soon as she disappeared into the brilliance, the door slid shut again with a resounding thud, leaving the room eerily quiet once more. Elowen exhaled sharply, breaking the stillness with her trademark sarcasm. "well, that was dramatic. Now we wait—and hope she doesn't accidentally summon anything worse than orcs."
Agapios ignored her quip, already settling into a meditative stance near the door. His expression was calm but resolute, his eyes closed as though preparing himself for whatever might come next.
The two stood in silence, the air thick with tension and unspoken prayers, while the sealed door loomed ominously between them and the unknown fate awaiting Liora inside.