The great hall of the Sanctum of Dawn was quiet—save for the faint rustle of robes and the distant echo of chanting from the outer sanctuaries. Golden light filtered through stained glass windows, painting the marble floor with hues of crimson and violet.
Incense drifted lazily through the air, mingling with the cool scent of polished stone and sanctified oil.
At the far end of the chamber, seated upon a raised dais beneath the statue of the Goddess, was a young woman cloaked in white and lavender.
Her silver-lavender hair shimmered like moonlight, cascading in gentle waves past her shoulders. A delicate circlet rested on her brow, inscribed with runes that glowed faintly under divine light.
Despite her youthful features, her gaze was distant. Heavy. Like someone carrying the weight of too many prayers… and too few answers.
Before her knelt a robed man, head bowed, his voice hushed but steady.
