When Flavius arrived at the place he most definitely knew Izikel would be, he found the front door open, and Izikel waiting inside.
"Lord Izikel," his voice was cold, stripped of any warmth or familiarity, "where is the girl?"
"What are you going to do to her?" Izikel asked, defensive and tense.
"The other Druids will keep mutating if the Altar isn't destroyed," Flavius replied, his tone steady but burdened. "I know it's difficult—but there is no other way."
"But there is," Izikel countered, his voice rising. "She can be anointed by a Lunar Altar as a saint. That would sever her connection to the Old Tree."
Flavius exhaled, tired of this debate. "You read that in a book? Did the book also tell you that the reason Divine believers don't switch faith is because it always ends with a curse from one of the gods involved?"
"But the Verdant Mother wouldn't curse her. No matter what," Izikel insisted. "And there's a chance the Lunar Goddess won't either."
