Freyja's body trembled.
It wasn't a tremor of fear, nor of hesitation.
It was the shudder of something too ancient, too great, being touched at a point rarely reached. A latent rage created simply by Sapphire mentioning such an absurd agreement that sounded almost like a joke.
The temple reacted first.
The golden columns creaked like bones under pressure. The runes carved into the stone glowed bright red, burning like open wounds. The sky above the sanctuary, which until then had been a soft, eternal blue… tore open in shades of deep scarlet, as if a bloody dawn had been forcibly pulled over Vanaheim.
The pool water bubbled.
The crystalline blue disappeared in the blink of an eye, replaced by a thick, heavy, pulsating red… divine blood, not literal, but symbolic. The very emotional essence of the goddess overflowing.
For a moment, the Temple of Freyja ceased to be a place.
It became a reflection.
