I looked out at the sea of faces before me.
“And now, to my final announcement,” I said. “I have chosen to step down as High Priestess and leave this path behind. No more will you have to hide behind wards and walls, and visit the world beyond only through portals. For too long, you all have been forced to hide away from the world to protect me. No more. I entrust Solaris to the strength of its people.”
An audible gasp rippled through the hall, quickly followed by the buzz of whispered voices.
The weight of the hall pressed against me. The air was thick with fear, confusion, outrage. Their faces blurred into one vast tide of disbelief as my words sank in: I would step down.
It was as though I had dropped a torch into dry brush. Murmurs roared into argument, voices clashing in the vaulted space.
Then a new voice cut through: “High Priestess.”
I turned, my chest tightening. Aeldrin stepped forward.
“Please,” he said, his voice rough with emotion, “tell me this is not farewell.”
My breath caught. “Aeldrin…”
He took a step closer, his eyes shining with grief that pierced deeper than anger ever could. “I have served you my entire life. And now you tell me you will leave? After all this? After we have survived the impossible together?”
The hall hushed, the villagers’ grief momentarily muted by the raw ache in his voice.
Tears blurred my vision. “I cannot stay,” I whispered. “If I remain, I become the chain that binds you. If I go, Solaris will be free to find its own light. Its own strength.”
Aeldrin shook his head, his jaw tightening. “But you are Solaris. You always have been.” His hand trembled at his side, as though he longed to reach for me but knew the gesture wouldundo him.
I swallowed hard, my heart breaking. “No. I am only one woman. Solaris isall of you—the people, the priests, the children who will grow to inherit it. If it depends on me alone, it will never stand.”
His face crumpled, and for the first time in all the years I had known him, Aeldrin’s composure cracked. His voice broke, hoarse. “Then let me say this: you were the best of us. And though I do not understand this path you’ve chosen, I pray the Sun God goes with you.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. I stepped closer, daring to touch his arm, feeling the faint tremor of his muscles. “Thank you,” I whispered, my throat tight. “For your loyalty. For your friendship. For loving Solaris as you have. I will carry your faith with me, always.”
His eyes shimmered, and for a moment, I thought he might weep. But instead, he drew himself up, his jaw set with solemn pride. He bowed—not the shallow bow of ritual, but a deep, heartfelt bow of farewell.
My heart ached with both grief and release.
A novice cried out, “Who will lead us now?” Another priest muttered, “We cannot stand without a High Priestess!”
And then, loudest of all: “We cannot stand with her consorting with darkness!”
Captain Leonidas pushed forward, his golden armor gleaming beneath the banners, his face tight with fury.
“The Shadow King is darkness, High Priestess! We cannot trust him!” Leonidas stalked forward to stare me down, his jaw set in anger, his expression filled with a hurt that stung more than I had anticipated.
I held his gaze, unflinching. “Yes, he is darkness,” I said, my voice steady, resolute. “But do we not preach that light has no meaning without shadow? That our Sun God’s own strength istested only when he rises to meet the night? This belief—the idea that darkness is evil—is what has blinded us to the truth all this time, because we refused to look beyond our narrow view of light and dark.”
Leonidas shook his head. “You would walk away? After all these years, after we bled for you, prayed for you, built our lives around your light—you would abandon us—forhim?” His voice cracked like a whip, echoing across the crowd.
My heart ached, but I did not flinch. “I will not abandon you,” I said, my voice rising above the tumult. “I will free you. There is a difference.”
Leonidas’s eyes burned. “And you would leave us with him?” His hand thrust toward Dario, who stood tall, shadows whispering faintly around him. “The Shadow King, our enemy for generations?”
“His name,” I said firmly, “is Dario. He is a man.”
“He is a monster,” Leonidas snarled. “He’s corrupted you!”
Before I could answer, Amira, High Priestess of the Western Quarter, stepped forward, her face pale but her voice strong. “Leonidas speaks truth. The people will not accept this. They will fear him. They will fear you.”
The tide of voices swelled again—fearful, doubtful, broken.
