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The acolytes' voices dwindled to whispers as they funneled out of the great hall, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor. The lesson had ended, but Alara remained, her thoughts tangled. Sister Halene—a stern-faced woman with sharp eyes that always seemed to pierce through pretense—motioned for Elias to join her near the door. He followed with a nod, his steady steps leaving Alara to her solitude.

She stayed by the dais, her fingers brushing against the cool, polished stone as if it might anchor her restless thoughts. Her mind churned with questions and doubts, the weight of Elias's words still pressing against her chest.

A firm but playful nudge broke her reverie, jarring her back into the present. She turned quickly, startled, her heart leaping as she met the familiar gaze of someone who knew her far too well.

"You're quiet today," Rasa teased, her voice laced with warmth. She tilted her head, studying Alara with a sharp gaze that didn't miss a thing, though her brown eyes softened with concern. "You know," she added with a smirk, "sometimes I think you carry enough doubt for the both of us."

Alara glanced up, a faint smile pulling at the corners of her lips. Rasa had always been like this—steady and unshakeable. The sunlight streaming through the tall windows seemed to embrace her, casting a warm, golden glow on her dark skin and the small, delicate flower she'd tucked behind her ear. Her tall, athletic frame seemed perpetually poised for action as if she were ready to take on whatever the world might throw at her.

"You ever think the rest of us should borrow some of that confidence of yours?" Alara teased, her tone lighter but tinged with envy.

"Maybe I'd lend it," Rasa quipped, her lips curving into a smile, "if you stopped looking so lost in your own home." Her tone was playful, but her gaze lingered on Alara with a quiet intensity, sharp and knowing. After a moment, she added, "It's not because of the bandits, is it?"

Alara's smile faltered, replaced by a frown. "Bandits?" she asked, confused.

Rasa shifted her stance, her expression growing serious as she leaned closer. Her voice dropped low. "Something's stirring. A traveler who came for morning prayers spoke of unrest in the border towns. Bands of soldiers moving where they shouldn't be. People and supplies disappearing without a word."

Alara stiffened, a chill sweeping over her as the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. "Elias mentioned something similar," she murmured, her voice quieter now. "But he said nothing about people disappearing."

Rasa shrugged, one shoulder rising slightly before her lips pressed into a thin line. "Who knows what it really is? Could be bandits, but it could also mean war. Can't you feel it in the air?" Her gaze flicked around the hall before settling back on Alara, her tone growing softer but no less certain. "Even the temple doesn't feel…" She hesitated, searching for the word. "Still."

Alara swallowed hard, her fingers curling tightly around the edge of the dais. Rasa had given voice to the unease she'd been trying to ignore all morning—a tension that hung in the air like the charged stillness before a storm.

"Something happened this morning," she murmured, her voice barely audible, as though speaking it aloud might give it too much weight. "I think… it may have to do with Aedre."

Rasa's sharp gaze softened, her usual strength giving way to quiet reassurance. Without hesitation, she reached out and took Alara's hand, the gesture grounding and warm. "Tell me what happened," she said gently, her voice steady.

"I was at the fountain," Alara began, her voice trembling slightly. "I asked Aedre why she wouldn't speak to me. And then… the water became still. Eerily still. So still I could see my reflection perfectly, as if it were a mirror. And it called to me, Rasa. It felt like it wanted me to touch it."

Rasa's eyes widened, her grip tightening on Alara's hand. "Did you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alara shook her head, her gaze falling. "No," she admitted softly. "I… got distracted. When I looked back, everything was as it had been before."

"This is great, Alara," Rasa said, her expression breaking into an excited grin. "This is exactly what you've been waiting for. We must tell Elias!"

"No!" Alara's voice shot out, echoing across the empty hall. She winced, lowering her tone quickly as she ignored Sister Halene's glare. "No," she repeated more softly, the weight of her hesitation pressing on her chest. "I… I want it to happen again first. To prove it wasn't a fluke or some trick of the light. I need to be sure." She hesitated, her voice dropping further. "I can't disappoint anyone else… not again."

"Hey," Rasa said gently, cupping Alara's cheek with her hand. "You put too much pressure on yourself. So much so that even when the signs are glaringly obvious, you've convinced yourself there's nothing there. There's no one to disappoint if you're wrong."

Alara shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "My father is one person."

Rasa squeezed Alara's hand, her grip firm yet reassuring. "You're more than his expectations, Alara," she said, her voice steady and unyielding. Her brown eyes locked onto Alara's, radiating quiet strength. "Don't let his doubts—or yours—define you."

The words landed like a spark in the cold, melting just enough of the weight on Alara's chest to let her draw a deeper breath. A faint smile tugged at her lips, soft but genuine. "Thank you, Rasa," she said quietly, her voice carrying the warmth of gratitude.

Rasa gave Alara's hand one final squeeze before letting go, her signature grin lighting up her face. "Of course. What are friends for?"

Before Alara could reply, the sharp echo of hurried footsteps rushing across the hall interrupted them. Both women turned to see an acolyte running toward Sister Halene. Their muffled, urgent voices carried faintly through the room, but the tension in their movements spoke louder than words. Sister Halene's face paled, panic flickering in her sharp features, before she turned abruptly toward the nearest door, the acolyte following close behind.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Now that's suspicious," Rasa muttered, her voice low as her gaze followed them. She shifted her stance, her sharp eyes narrowing.

Elias began walking toward them, his expression composed and calm, betraying none of the anxiety rippling through the room.

Rasa tilted her head, her tone dropping further. "He doesn't seem worried. Maybe it's nothing," she said, though her voice carried the unmistakable edge of doubt.

Elias's calm voice cut through the lingering tension. "Alara, Rasa."

Alara offered him a gentle smile. "Is something the matter, Senior Priest? Sister Halene looked… fear-stricken."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed Elias's usually serene expression, but he answered smoothly, "It is nothing we cannot handle. I do, however, require your assistance."

Rasa straightened immediately, nodding. "Anything, Senior Priest."

Elias's gaze shifted to Alara, his tone softening. "Alara must prepare for the banquet this evening. While we are all welcome to attend, Alara is often the most requested guest. She must look her best, as she represents both the goddess and her people."

Alara's smile faltered, her chest tightening. The banquet. Of course. The very thought of it sent a fresh wave of anxiety rushing through her, her nerves jangling at the prospect.

Rasa noticed instantly. She always did. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she turned to Elias. "Don't worry, Senior Priest," she said with a playful lilt. "I'll make sure she's ready." Then she glanced at Alara with a teasing grin. "Though getting her to relax might take more effort than dressing her up."

Elias chuckled softly, his calm demeanor easing some of the tension in the air. "I leave her in your capable hands, then," he said with a faint smile, turning to walk away.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Rasa leaned closer to Alara, her conspiratorial grin widening. "Let's not forget," she said in a playful whisper, "these banquets are just for show. You'll do fine. Smile, nod, and let me know if anyone needs me to 'accidentally' spill a drink on them."

A quiet laugh escaped Alara despite herself, the tension in her chest loosening just a little. Rasa always had a way of lightening her load, if only for a moment.

But as she watched Elias's retreating form, her smile faded slightly, a faint echo of unease creeping back in. Rasa's earlier words clung to her thoughts like a shadow: Something's stirring.

In Alara's quarters, Rasa rifled through the small wardrobe with her signature confidence. Dresses rustled as she pushed them aside with quick, deliberate movement, her sharp eye darting over each option.

Alara, meanwhile, sat perched on the edge of her narrow bed, her fingers twisting together nervously. The setting sunlight spilled through the single window, casting a warm glow over the faded floral patterns painted on the walls.

"I don't see why this is necessary," Alara muttered, her gaze drifting toward the window as she half-seriously contemplated using it to escape.

"Let's be honest," Rasa said, her tone casual as she pulled a flowing dress of deep blue silk from the wardrobe. "If we all show up looking as stuffy as those old priests, no one will take us seriously." She tossed a sly grin over her shoulder. "A little charm can work miracles."

Alara sighed heavily but rose to her feet, her resistance crumbling under Rasa's relentless insistence. "You sound suspiciously like Elias when you say things like that," she remarked dryly.

"Maybe he's rubbing off on me," Rasa replied, feigning mock horror. "Next thing you know, I'll be spouting wisdom about faith and lighting candles in my free time."

Alara giggled, the sound light and rare. "Perhaps it would be good for you."

Rasa chuckled as she spread the dress out, eyeing it critically before helping Alara slip into it. The fabric slid over her with a soft, cool grace, flowing like water and clinging just enough to accentuate her natural elegance.

For a moment, Alara stared down at herself, her breath catching. She hadn't expected the simple gown to transform her so completely, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she saw something in her reflection that almost resembled confidence.

"You know," Rasa began, stepping behind Alara and gathering her long strawberry-blonde hair with deft hands, "when I first came to the temple, I was terrified. I thought I'd never find my place here. Everyone seemed so sure of themselves, and I…" She let out a small laugh. "Let's just say I spent a lot of time hiding in the archives pretending to study."

Alara blinked, glancing up at Rasa through the mirror's reflection. "Really? You? I don't believe that for a second."

Rasa smiled faintly, her fingers weaving Alara's hair into a neat braid with practiced ease. "Believe it," she said softly. "I felt like an outsider for a long time—like I didn't belong. But I found my place. I kept working at it until I did. That's what matters."

The quiet confession caught Alara off guard. Rasa had always seemed so effortlessly confident. Knowing that even she had once felt lost made Alara's own uncertainty feel a little less like failure.

"And you think it's the same for me?" Alara asked quietly, her voice tinged with both hope and doubt.

"I know it is," Rasa said, securing the braid with delicate silver pins and resting her hands lightly on Alara's shoulders. Her voice softened as she added, "You'll find yourself and your place in this world. You just have to be open to what it offers you."

Alara met Rasa's gaze in the mirror, the flicker of confidence in her chest glowing slightly brighter. "Thank you," she said softly.

"Don't thank me yet," Rasa teased, admiring her handiwork. "You haven't seen the final product."

Alara looked up, catching her reflection in the mirror. A faint blush crept up her cheeks as she turned back to Rasa. "I don't look like myself," she said, her voice tinged with wonder. "I look like… I don't know. A princess or something."

Rasa rolled her eyes dramatically. "You are a princess."

Alara grinned sheepishly, her blush deepening. "I may be, but I've never really felt like one."

Rasa laughed. "I can't say I have either."

Alara's expression softened, a spark of determination lighting her blue eyes. "Then we change that today."

Rasa arched an eyebrow. "And how do you propose we do that?"

Alara crossed her arms with a playful smirk. "You're coming with me," she declared, her tone leaving no room for argument. "And you're going to look the part, too."

Rasa blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before letting out a laugh. "Oh, is that so?" she replied, amused. "Fine, but if I outshine you, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Deal," Alara said, her grin widening as she dove into the wardrobe. After a moment, she pulled out a rich golden fabric and held it up triumphantly. "This."

Rasa raised a skeptical brow. "Gold? Are you trying to make me look like a ray of sunshine?"

"It complements your skin," Alara replied with a smile. "And it goes with this," she added, tapping the light armor concealed beneath Rasa's acolyte robes. "We both know you'll sneak this on underneath."

Rasa rolled her eyes, though the fondness in her voice betrayed her. "Fine. But if anyone asks, you forced me."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Alara teased, flashing a mischievous grin.

Rasa disappeared behind the folding screen to change, the golden fabric rustling softly as she worked. When she finally stepped out, Alara paused, her breath catching momentarily as a genuine smile tugged at her lips.

"What?" Rasa asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she caught Alara's expression.

"You clean up well," Alara teased, though a warmth in her voice carried more than simple jest. There was admiration there, unspoken but clear.

Rasa smirked, adjusting one of the armored plates beneath the golden fabric with practiced ease. "Don't get used to it. This is strictly a one-time deal."

The two women shared a laugh. When they finally stood before the mirror, side by side, they couldn't have looked more different—Alara in her flowing blue gown, delicate and regal, and Rasa in her striking gold, strong and grounded. They were almost opposites in appearance, yet there was something undeniably powerful in the sight of them together. It was as though they carried a quiet defiance against the world waiting beyond the door.

"Whatever happens tonight," Rasa said, resting a steady, reassuring hand on Alara's shoulder, her voice steady and unshakable, "we face it together."

Alara nodded, her breath steadying as the knot in her chest began to loosen. She drew strength from her friend, her confidence flickering brighter. "Together."