Leera had imagined the Temple of Minah to be massive and grand, but it was no larger than her cottage back in Jane’s Spire. Cold and austere, the stone floor of the temple was empty, and the only piece of furniture in the room was a small altar with a tablet on it.
Quick stood with his back to the entrance, talking to a girl in a white and red dress. If Leera hadn’t seen the girl’s face and her bosom, she would’ve thought it was a child. Her arms were like saplings, and she could easily have hidden her entire self behind Quick’s left leg. Her violet hair, partially hidden under a headscarf, flowed behind her, almost brushing against the floor, and her eyes had a bright green sheen as if fireflies lived inside her eyeballs.
The tiny girl looked at Leera and then at the bloodied knight. She let out a horrified gasp.
“What have you done!” she cried in a shrill voice. “You’ve broken the sacred vow!”
“The man needs help,” Leera said.
“You can’t bring him in here – this is the Temple of Minah – this is a haven of peace!”
“I don’t care – he’s going to die if he doesn’t get help.”
The girl threw up her thin arms and scowled at Leera. “Humans die. The battlefield beyond the hallowed grove is a testament to that. Even if you save one, thousands will die still.”
Leera turned to Quick. “Please?”
Quick shook his head. “He has already passed on.”
“He’s not… he’s…” Leera placed her head on his chest again.
It was quiet. No more rasping or gurgling breaths. Leera felt her throat tying itself into a knot. Fresh tears mixed with the dried ones on her cheeks.
“Naïve – why are they always so naïve?” The tiny girl paced back and forth fidgeting nervously with her dress. “They’ll come now. Oh, yes, they will. Yes, they will.”
“You can’t save everyone. Take that to heart, Miss Eirey,” Quick said. “That’s an important lesson.”
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“No…” Leera whispered and turned away from the others. “You’re wrong.”
“It’s never about being right or wrong; it’s about–”
“No!” Leera cried and slammed her fist into the stone floor. “Get out! GET OUT!”
The floor shuddered and cracked open. Walls rose out of the ground, closing off the temple around Leera, leaving Quick and the other two wide-eyed on the outside.
Leera touched her left wrist – the one she had broken trying to fly out of the orphanage, and then sprained again, escaping from the crypt stalker. The diminutive marbles of her skin shifted and vibrated in a multicolored palette. She took a deep breath.
“Pain is not real,” she mumbled and rolled up her sleeve.
She didn’t remember who had said it, but the words were comforting. Perhaps it was Aelar?
One by one, she stopped the buzzing movement of the marbles in her hand and wrist. It felt like she had dipped it in a bucket of ice laced with searing hot needles – it felt like someone was pulling her bones out of her hand with a pair of pliers. Shivering and sweating, she leaned over the fallen soldier. Her hand was bright and translucent – it took everything she had to keep it from falling apart.
On the verge of fainting, Leera carefully put her hand through his chest, closing her fingers around his heart. She gave it a gentle squeeze and filled his lungs with fresh air.
Nauseous and dizzy from the pain in her hand, the room blurred for Leera. The candles danced like will-o-wisps in the flickering darkness. A song echoed between the walls – perhaps it was the walls of her mind and not the temple – it sounded familiar, like a distant childhood memory. Was it only her imagination when a shadow in her periphery shifted and started moving across the room toward her?
The shadow collided with the candlelight and joined it in dance. Two opposites, spinning, bending, intertwining – coryphées of light and darkness, of good and evil, of life and death, fighting for the honor to lead the ballet.
Sudden warmth filled the temple as the light grew limbs and a shimmering body. Maybe the pain was conjuring hallucinations, but the light felt like candles on a birthday cake, like dawn over the Sleet Mire – it felt like home.
Then a soft voice came from the light. It was filled with love, compassion, and patience. It reminded her of Quick, but it had the tenderness of a woman.
“Glittering Stardust… the most treasured gem… both hard and soft…the sixth element should only be touched by the purest of our kind.” Leera felt the last tablet tumble into her lap.
“Please…” Leera gasped, struggling to remain conscious.
“Shaping a diamond… or waking a star… requires tremendous power, Leera Eirey… but bending a heart – that is the hardest task of all.”
“Please!”
“You already have it within you – you were given this gift a long time ago.”
Leera suddenly felt the heart of the man shudder and start beating in her hand. As she pulled her burning hand out, the figure of light dispersed. But the darkness drew closer, slithering its shadowy tendrils around her neck.
“What a nice gift…” it whispered. “Are you ready for mine?”
Leera felt a sharp sting in her thigh. Through her tears, she saw the blurry outline of something red, skittering across the floor.