But even as I focused on the approaching Paladins, my mind kept drifting back to her. To thatpriestess.
She was there, among them. I could feel her light more clearly than the others, a brighter, sharper presence that cut through the darkness like a knife. She always stood out, even when she wasn’t at the front of their ranks, even when she didn’t speak. Her light burned brighter, felt purer, more real than the others.
I hated it.
I hated her.
Her face appeared in my mind again—those sharp, golden eyes, the way her hair glowed like fire in the light. The way she had looked at me the last time we faced each other, her gaze unflinching, as though she saw through all the darkness, all the shadows, and saw me for what I truly was.
I shook my head, trying to dispel the thought, but it clung to me like a stubborn shadow.
“Fool,” I muttered under my breath. “She’snothing.”
Just another enemy, another obstacle in my path.
But the words felt hollow, even to me.
Chapter 3: Elena
The light of the setting sun streamed through the towering columns of the Sun Temple, casting a golden glow over the gleaming stone floors.
Solaris, my city, perched high on the hidden plateau, bathed in the eternal light of the Sun God. I watched the last rays filter through the stained-glass windows of the sanctuary, painting the walls with shifting hues of red, orange, and gold.
I stood before the massive altar, a golden chalice cradled in my hands, performing the final rites of evening prayer.
The chalice was cool against my palms, its weight both grounding and suffocating. The chalice was cool and smooth against my palms, its weight grounding. Its engravings—scenes of the Sun God’s triumphs etched into living gold—glimmered faintly as I tilted it, catching the dying rays. I could feel the magic of the Sun coursing through it, resonating with my own as I murmured the ancient prayer to the Sun God under my breath.
I whispered the incantations the way one whispers to an old lover: half prayer, half plea. The words had lived in my mouth for a century, unchanging, yet tonight they tasted heavier, salted with the knowledge of what lay ahead.
My robes—a flowing gown of crimson and gold—whispered softly against the marble floor as I moved, the delicate fabric catching the last vestiges of sunlight.
My voice was steady, but my hands were not. I told myself it was exhaustion from the council meeting, from the endless debates with the Elders, from the worry gnawing at me since the disappearances began. But in truth, it was anticipation. Fear, though I hated the word.
I am immortal, yet I still fear.
When the last syllable of the prayer left my lips, a rush of warmth coursed through the chalice and into me, that familiar flood of fire-light that rose from my chest outward, until even the ends of my hair felt like they burned with sunlight. I exhaled, releasing the tension in my shoulders, though not the weight in my heart.
The attendants who often fluttered about me during prayer were absent tonight. I had dismissed them hours ago. I needed no prying eyes to watch my small rituals, no soft hands tugging at my sleeves to remind me of the hour. This was my night. My duty.
Behind me, I felt the presence of the Sun Paladins—a wall of gold and steel, silent but for the faint clink of armor as they shifted their stance. Their reverence pressed against me almost as heavily as the chalice itself. They looked at me as if I were both woman and deity, fragile and untouchable. They could not know that beneath the crimson and gold, my heart beat too fast.
“High Priestess.”
Leonidas’s voice broke the hush. His tone was respectful, formal, but I heard the thread of warmth beneath it. He had once been a boy in rags, staring up at the Temple gates, begging to be taken in. I had argued for him against the Elders’ protests, and he had risen to captain of the Sun Paladins. Every time he spoke my title, I remembered the wide-eyed boy who had whisperedonly my name.
“We are ready,” he said, stepping forward. Even in dimming light, his armor gleamed as though the Sun itself feared to abandon him. His expression softened when he met my eyes, but only slightly; he was careful, always careful, never to forget who and what I was.
I nodded. My hand lingered on the chalice for a breath longer before I set it down upon the altar, its gold catching the last flicker of light from the high windows. I pulled my hood over my hair, veiling the sunlight within me.
“Let us go,” I said softly, and though my voice was quiet, it carried. It always carried.
The Paladins’ boots struck the marble as they fell into step behind me, a rhythm steady enough to resemble a heartbeat. The Temple doors opened, spilling us into the city.
Outside, the golden streets of Solaris stretched out below us, the domed rooftops and towering spires of the city bathed in the last light of the day.
It was beautiful, my city—a place of eternal light, hidden from the kingdoms beyond by powerful wards and ancient magic.
The streets below glowed like hammered bronze. Golden domes caught the last blaze of the sun, rooftops gleamed, and the air shimmered with the scent of incense still drifting from the temple district. My people moved through the avenues like a river of saffron and white, children darting between merchants packing up their stalls. The marketplace bells rang once, twice, as shops shuttered for night.
