CHAPTER 26: Death Inside Sacred Walls - Part 2

  He had been in the temple for five days now, and his wounds were almost healed. Eager to continue his journey, he pondered how to bypass the guard posts, but no feasible plan came to mind. Ryse had really made his life difficult.

  Varne looked up. As autumn neared its end, the sun hung low and its light diminishing in strength. Its rays created a stark contrast between the illuminated walls and those in shadow. On the inner side of these circular walls, a series of reliefs depicted the events of The Rending. He recognized this event from the priest who visited his village every once in a while to preach or perform other religious services.

  The first relief showed the Four Elders casting down the Black Eye. Umbra covered the sky, and the world fell into endless night. The second relief depicted the subsequent Perpetual Night War. The Mana Decimae erected protective barrier domes over cities to keep the Umbra out.

  The next relief shifted to unbroken, tireless attacks by monsters and undead. Cities fell, crops failed under the perpetually dark sky, and 'doomsday' became the name for every day.

  The fourth relief's main theme was the Eight Luminaries. They were depicted as eight streaks of light in front of the jaws of darkness. These strongest Decimae united, offering new hope for humanity's resistance. However, that hope was like ice crystals under the summer sun, glittering only for a moment before vanishing. The Umbra began to swallow the last cities.

  Then, as depicted in the largest fifth relief, Azarion took pity on mankind. The god took a bright spear and plunged it into the heart of the Umbra. Like a falling star, the spear's tip tore it open, saving humanity. This event was known as The Rending and was celebrated to this day.

  “Master Varne, how are you feeling?” Varne turned as Almyria – yes, that was the priestess’ name – greeted him from behind. She was accompanied by a short-haired, teenage boy, as tall as her.

  “I am... The restoration of... um, my health is nigh. I offer forth... um, profound gratitude, Priestess Almyria.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Almyria smiled. “Glad to hear that, Master Varne. And please, speak to me as you would normally.”

  “In return, call me Varne.”

  “Very well, Varne. I want to tell you that I have received a new assignment from the Matriarch and can no longer care for you. From now on, he will take care of you until your full recovery.” Almyria placed her hands on the teenager's shoulders and pushed him towards Varne.

  “Big sis, don't embarrass me.”

  “Forgive my little brother. He is still in training, but his skills are unquestionable.”

  “Al, do you know how to get to Orfia in the east?” Varne asked.

  “Since the King's assassination, checkpoints have not been opened to the public. To pass through, you'll need special permission.”

  He seethed at the thought of being delayed for weeks or months just because a mere king died. And all the time, Margivaz roamed free and enjoying himself.

  Almyria placed two fingers on her forehead. “Varne, I must take my leave now. Alec, take good care of Master Varne.”

  After Almyria left, he looked up again, pondering how to bypass the Isofean checkpoint. Could he possibly...

  The little half-wit kept staring at him. “What do you want?” Varne asked.

  “Do you like sis Almyria too? Let me tell you, many do, and you stand no chance.”

  “Whaaa..?”

  “Especially with a dumb reaction like that.”

  Varne wanted to flick the little half-wit's nose, using Prana strength, of course. Planning to leave the temple tomorrow since he was nearly healed and Prana would take care of the rest, he saw no point in getting angry over a half-wit.

  “Hey, kid. Do you know where I can buy a sword?”

  “A sword? Do you think acting tough will impress my sister? She'll just think you're not only dumb but also rude.”

  Varne chuckled, his temple twitching once.

  ***

  That night, two guards at the temple gate were approached by five cloaked figures. Encountering such visitors, they stopped them.

  “Please halt. What business brings you through our temple's gate?”

  They did not respond. Shadows concealed their faces from the guards' view.

  “Please lower your hoods.”

  Four of the figures lowered their hoods. The guards drew their swords at once upon seeing their half-rotten faces.

  “Undead!” One guard chopped off half of an undead's head, but it merely turned as if nothing had happened.

  The second guard was about to shout, but another undead bit into his neck first. The first guard threw away his sword and ran. Before his third step, an arrow pierced his neck from behind.

  The fifth figure, accompanied by an undead with a bow, approached the guard who was in the throes of death and lowered his hood. He was a man in his thirties, gaunt-faced with pale skin and thin gray, almost white, eyes.

  He waited until the first guard died, then placed his hand on the body and whispered into his ear, “Rise and shine.”

  With that, the first guard stood up, picked up his sword, and walked into the temple with his four new companions.