After a week of travel, they finally reached the Temple of the Sun God. Their journey had been relatively peaceful, Alekar and his hunters hadn't found them... yet.
The temple was perched high atop a mountain. Yet, unlike what one might expect, there was no snow or biting cold. Instead, only warmth and radiance bathed the peak, the mountain reflecting the sunlight like polished silver.
According to Bernak, all temples of the Sun God were built in elevated, open places that were exposed to the full glory of the sun. They symbolized the Sun God's role as the Bringer of Light and Clarity.
Now that Amon stood before it, he had to admit, it was fascinating. Fluted columns encircled the temple on all sides, rising tall like sunlit sentinels. The white marble gleamed under the open sky, glowing gently with the warmth of the god's own light.
Nestled high on the mountain's slopes, the temple overlooked a valley bathed in golden light. Strange, luminous trees and flaming flowers grew around it, their colors vibrant and unnatural. The wind carried the scent of burning incense... and ash.
People were gathered around the altar, bringing animals as offerings. Amon watched with wide eyes, curious about what would happen next. Maybe the animals would dissolve into ash… or be consumed by holy fire.
But contrary to his hopeful expectations, a woman simply grabbed the animal by the throat and slashed it.
Amon quickly turned away, disturbed. Behind him, the woman raised her arms toward the sky, bloodied hands outstretched, a warm smile on her face as she laughed.
There was some kind of contest happening in the open area while the others waited for the priest.
An athletic young man stepped into the arena, a pleasant smile on his face. He was tall and striking, like one of those statues of Greek heroes Amon had seen in TV. The man picked up a long spear, took aim at a distant target, and threw it with practiced grace. The spear spun through the air before piercing the target cleanly.
Impressive. Especially considering the distance was several hundred meters.
Then, another contestant entered. An old man with a kind, wrinkled smile.
Amon squinted, frowning slightly. "What's this grandpa gonna do? Knit a scarf?"
But then the old man's robe ripped apart as his muscles swelled like balloons. The meter-and-a-half-tall elder morphed into a six-foot behemoth with a shredded body straight out of a bodybuilding contest.
He casually picked up a spear and hurled it with such brutal force that the target didn't just shatter, it disintegrated.
Amon recoiled. Hiss! Why is every old man in this world super jacked!? What are they feeding these elders, ambrosia and steroids!?
After some time, Amon decided to walk back to his companions with a defeated, horrified look on his face.
The Sun God… he thought, shuddering. Yeah, i was right. That guy's a real freak. What the hell are "Rooms of Passion," anyway!?
But just as he turned around, he was stopped by a slender young woman with a warm, radiant smile. She had sky-blue eyes and golden hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of light. Her skin was pale as ivory, and her figure was… well, let's just say that white tunic was doing a lot of heavy lifting.
She tilted her head, voice sweet and almost musical.
"Why are you going back? The Hour of Passion is just beginning."
Amon gulped and instinctively took a step back. W-What kind of passion...?
His first instinct was to say yes, of course it was but then a memory surged forth. The painful, tragic tale of his great master…
They always say there's a safe word. But then they hand you a folded slip of ancient doom, and you open it in your darkest hour only to read:
FLÜGGÅӘNKб€ČHIŒßØLĮÊ...
Yeah. Definitely some cursed shit like that. Straight out of a demon's throat. He actually searched it once and it was sound Hitler made after he shot himself...
the safe word… the unpronounceable safe word... He still had flashbacks of Cooper and his tragic fate...
"I already have enough passion for one day, my apologies, my fair lady. And oh! I have a wife too, yes, very real. So I'll just take my leave now."
He bowed awkwardly and walked away briskly, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.
If Medici were here… yeah, that bastard would've stayed. He'd probably say:
"A true man of culture can withstand any pain…"
That dumb fuck.
The woman's brow furrowed in confusion, but then she beamed warmly and gently grabbed his arm. Amon's smile grew stiff, forced and terrified, as he turned back slowly, like a man staring death in the eyes.
"Take this," she said sweetly. "It is sun oil, gifted to us by our radiant Lord of Light. I'm sure your wife will appreciate it."
Amon glanced at her. Then at the oil. Then back at her. His face twisted into the most painfully polite smile imaginable as he accepted it with the reluctance.
"Thank you… I'm sure she will…"
The woman nodded proudly, clearly pleased with herself while Amon escaped with panicked look.
She watched him disappear with a serene smile.
"Such a passionate young man… already running to his wife."
Amon felt his heart pounding wildly in his chest. But he was a gentleman, he would never betray Luna… or his bed.
After some time, he returned to his companions. As he took his place among them, the High Priest arrived.
To Amon's surprise, the priest was a young man with a warm smile and bright ember-colored eyes. His pale golden hair was neatly tied behind his back, and his soft features and gentle posture made him appear harmless, almost delicate.
Kaisarius and the others bowed with solemn respect, and Amon, though a little confused, quickly followed their lead and bowed as well.
By the looks of it, the priests of gods were held in very high regard.
The Head Priest glanced over the group, his expression softening as he raised a graceful hand.
"Rise, my friends. There is no need for formalities. Praise the Lord."
They followed suit, voices steady and reverent.
"Praise the Lord!"
As they lifted their heads, Kaisarius stepped forward. His expression had turned solemn, and a flicker of urgency passed through his dark eyes.
"Head Priest... I'm sure you know why I've come."
The priest gave a small nod and lowered himself onto the stone steps, folding his hands calmly in his lap.
"Yes. You seek the Lord's blessing to wage war against Alerak and his brother... to reclaim the throne that is rightfully yours."
Kaisarius nodded and took a step forward.
"Then I'm sure you will-"
But the Head Priest raised a hand, cutting him off. His eyes narrowed slightly, shadowed with sorrow.
"Yes... I know why you've come. But I cannot help you, my friend. Alerak commands an army of twenty thousand. The kingdom is fractured, yes, and there's a possibility you could rally the banners of neutral nobles or those who secretly support your claim but I've already seen the future..."
He paused, his voice heavy with the weight of certainty.
"You will gather your army. You will march. But you will lose."
A hush fell over the group. Kaisarius's gaze darkened, the words striking him like a curse. Fate was a blade no warrior could parry. It was cold, precise and inevitable.
And yet... there was no hesitation in his eyes and no fear.
"Then what?" he asked, voice low and hard. "We just stand by? Let it all continue?"
He stepped closer, every word laced with righteous fury.
"My people are in chains. They toil in mines until their bodies break or die for their captors' amusement. Our sisters are treated as objects, bought and discarded like their lives are nothing. And you're telling me it's a losing battle?"
He clenched his fists, trembling with conviction.
"Even if it is... I would rather die fighting than live in disgrace."
The Head Priest looked down, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he slowly rose to his feet.
"The Lord of Light no longer favors you, young prince," he said gently. "You may stay here, and I promise... under my protection, no harm will come to you. But beyond that... I can offer nothing."
Kaisarius trembled, his fists clenched as rage smoldered behind his eyes. The priest turned and walked away, leaving behind a silence thick with unspoken fury.
Amon frowned, uneasy. The future looked grim, that much was clear. But he also knew one thing, fate can be changed in nightmares.
A spell, no matter how divine, operated under rules. And anything governed by rules… could be broken. Twisted and overthrown by chaos.
Anarchy was the enemy of order.
He exhaled slowly, about to speak, when something caught his eye. His gaze sharpened.
Was that...?
The priest's lips... were they curling up, just slightly?
Amon's breath caught.
I see... You freaky ass motherfuckers...
A few minutes later, they were sitting outside in a calm garden. The atmosphere was grim and tense. Everyone wanted to say something that could lighten the mood, but nothing came up.
Eventually, Nika noticed the vial Amon was holding, and his mouth twitched.
"Amon... Is that? Oh my! I never knew you were such a person. You always act so modest and polite, color me surprised, huh?"
Everyone turned their gazes to Amon, who froze, looking down at the vial he was holding.
"Wait, it's not what-"
Gray patted his shoulder with a smile full of understanding.
"Don't worry... You don't need to say anything. We understand. Everyone has some fetishes they need to satisfy."
Amon's eyes widened in horror as he abruptly stood up.
"No, you've misunderstood, really! It's not what you think-"
Nika nodded, a tear rolling down his cheek.
"There's no need to deny it. We all have those moments of... needing passion."
Bernak nodded sagely, stroking his beard.
"Indeed... I remember my younger days. The ladies back then... let's just say they were wild. Well, you honor the Sun, so I can't judge you."
Amon blinked at Bernak, dumbfounded. You perverted old man!
"I swear, the priestess gave it to me. She said it was blessed by the Sun God and..."
Everyone stared at him with looks of admiration. Nika's eyes widened in envy.
"You mean the Priestess of Passion?"
Even the usually silent Liparik raised an eyebrow and whistled in respect.
"Now you really are a man."
Amon took a seat without saying another word. It was at that moment he realized... the more you talk... Whatever!
He sighed, glancing over the company.
"So, what now? We needed support, but they don't want to help. And we're wasting time here. Alerak might..."
He didn't finish the sentence. The Head Priest… something about him rubbed Amon the wrong way. He didn't like the man and he knew exactly why.
Kaisarius gave him a firm nod.
"Yes, but we still need the runestone. That's why we're staying. There's much to discuss with the Head Priest."
After some time, Amon finally understood their situation. To take the capital of Astarax, they needed the runestone. There were only two paths into the city: one of them was a narrow mountain road, clearly too tight to accommodate an army. Worse, it was the perfect spot for an ambush.
But if they had the runestone created by Varin, the founder of the kingdom, they could destroy the barrier surrounding the mountain upon which the city was built. With that barrier gone, the army could march straight in and take the capital.
Amon also learned something else, something that explained why Kaisarius was no longer favored by the Sun God. The answer had been hidden in something Bernak once said:
Kaisarius... the King of Free People.
What it meant was that Varin allowed all gods to be worshiped: each of the Six main gods, the weaker deities, and the countless lesser ones. His was a prosperous kingdom built on the principle of freedom of faith, where everyone had the right to choose their own path.
But then, Varin made a decision that would change everything. He extended his welcome even to the Daemons. He allowed them to be worshiped openly, without fear or shame. Some called it madness, others called it justice but Varin was known for his hospitality, his generosity, his kindness, and above all, his unwavering sense of fairness.
The gods, however, saw it as betrayal.
In their wrath, they granted Alerak a boon. Strength flooded through him and his army. With that and powerful artifacts, he crushed Kaisarius's father and brothers, toppling the royal bloodline and seizing the throne.
All because Varin had dared to offer a place to Daemons...
The kingdom was punished for its open arms.
"Wait, then what can we even do? If they have the support of the gods and a divine boon, isn't this pretty much a losing war?"
Kaisarius smiled darkly, his black eyes gleaming with determination and a hint of glee.
"No power is limitless, and nothing is perfect. Most of the gods' artifacts were single-use relics. And the boon that once made Alerak's army so overwhelming... it's already faded. The gods have grown distant. They no longer answer prayers as often, maybe once every ten years, and even then, only if something truly catastrophic is happening."
He turned to face them fully, voice steady.
"We've waited a long time for this moment... the time when we could finally stand a chance and challenge them."
***
Hey guys!
Looks like this nightmare will probably wrap up in about ten chapters. What do you think so far? I'd love to hear your thoughts. drop your reactions, theories, or anything that stood out to you.
Also, I'm thinking about Amon's flaw. If you have any cool or fitting ideas, feel free to share them!
That's it for now. Enjoy the meal!
***