Eliaria, draped in her flowing white robe, moved with grace and purpose as she entered the sacred garden of Teon, god of life. The labyrinth's intricate patterns sprawled before her, and the fragrant incense lantern she carried, cast an ethereal glow on her path.

With each measured step, she breathed in the purifying smoke, her heart and spirit growing lighter. She'd performed the ritual daily since she was nine years old.

Now, eight years later, she felt its effects more strongly than ever. Her eyes were clear and bright, her mind calm. She smiled at the small birds that flitted from tree to tree, singing their morning song.

Her smile vanished when she saw the two men waiting for her inside the garden. They stood close together near the center of the maze. Their swords lay propped against the stone wall nearby.

As Eliaria approached, they both nodded in greeting.

"Morning Heartwarden," said one man, his hair cropped short and gray. His face held no expression, but Eliaria could see the steel in his eyes. "Maker bless you."

"Maker bless you," Eliaria replied, in the traditional greeting of their order.

The other man—taller and older than the first— said no words, but his eyes followed her all the way across the garden.

Eliaria was afraid of these men. She was Obsidian-3, but she had been ordered to put all her points in [power] since the day she’d received her healing foundation card from the high priest. These men were Porcelain ranked, but their strength and speed outmatched her own.

The high priest told her that they were sent to guard her, but she knew better than that. Witherveil was approaching, her time as Heartwarden was at an end. The guards weren't there to protect her, but to make sure she did not escape.

It was not like there was anywhere for her to run to. The temple sat atop a mountain surrounded by deep gorges. Any who tried to flee would die of hunger and thirst if they didn't fall victim to the mountain's monsters first.

Eliaria took a deep breath and tried her best to ignore her guards as she went about completing the ritual. In silent reverence, she offered heartfelt prayers to Teon and the Maker, her words carried away by the gentle breeze.

Then, gazing into the polished crystal ball that sat atop the altar, she sought the signs and visions that would guide her and the temple's faithful.

As she stared into the polished orb, she saw the statue of Teon reflected in its glass. The man standing tall, a necklace with an eye around his neck.

Reflections were all she ever saw in the orb. In the five years since she'd begun the ritual, she had never had a vision. But each day, she returned to the labyrinth, hoping to find some sign.

Hoping to hear the Maker’s voice.

The men watched her intently, hands resting on the hilts of their swords. As she completed the final prayer, she turned to the men and made her way back outside, walking past them without so much as a glance.

***

As she climbed the hundred stairs to the temple, she thoughtfully stroked the brass amulet hanging around her neck. She contemplated her last conversation with the high priest. He'd given her the word of the Maker, and it had changed everything.

She knew her duty. She'd spent the past five years preparing for this. She knew what the Maker wanted. And he was right. This was the only way to save her people.

An elderly woman resting halfway up the stairs called out to her. "Heartwarden? Are you well?"

"Yes, thank you grandmother," Eliaria answered, glancing down at the old woman sitting on the stone step. "Maker bless you."

The old woman touched her heart and repeated the blessing. Eliaria could see that the woman's feet were swollen from the long climb.

"Would you like me to ease the pain in your feet?" Eliaria asked.

The old woman shook her head. "I can't afford the donation this month. I'll just sit for a while until the swelling goes down."

Eliaria glanced over her shoulder, making sure that her guards were not close enough to overhear.

"Let me do this for you," she said. "At no cost to you."

The old woman gave a ragged chuckle. "Heartwarden, you are a blessing, but Maker knows what the high priest will say if he finds out."

Eliaria smiled, "Then let's make sure the high priest never hears about it."

The old woman laughed. "You are just like your mother, strong and kind-hearted. It is a shame the best are taken too young, while the wicked are left to grow old."

"We must all do our part," Eliaria said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

The old woman's words had pricked her heart, leaving her with an ache she couldn't explain. Her mother had died years ago, when Eliaria was only ten. At the time, she remembered feeling angry and betrayed. That anger had faded long ago, but the hurt remained.

At least she didn't have to be alone for much longer, she'd see her mother soon.

Eliaria stretched out her hand and touched the old woman's forehead. A tingle of energy passed between them, and the old woman gasped as the pain left her body and the swelling in her feet subsided.

Eliaria forced a smile as the pain flowed out of the woman into herself. Her own feet ached now, her back hurt, and her whole body throbbed, but she kept smiling, refusing to show any signs of pain.

The old woman stood up. "Thank you," she said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "You truly are a blessing."

***

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As Eliaria walked along a quiet corridor leading to her quarters, she heard the distinct tolling of a bell she'd never heard before. It was a slow and solemn sound, echoing through the ancient halls.

She'd spent many years wandering the temple's twisting passages. But even so, she was sure that she'd never heard that bell before.

She stopped and listened. The sound was coming from the eastern wing of the temple, a part long abandoned when the blight had set in.

Eliaria frowned, wondering what was going on.

She followed the sound to a long hallway lined with doors. Most were broken, swollen and splinted from neglect, but the door to the pilgrim's chamber stood open.

Eliaria pushed aside the debris that covered the threshold and entered the room.

It looked as though nothing had been touched in years. Dust lay thick upon the floor, piled high against the walls. The pilgrim's altar was still intact, but the statue of Teon lay shattered on the ground beside the altar.

Something moved in the far corner. Eliaria swallowed, her stomach churning as she peered into the shadows.

Two men lay on the ground, unmoving. Their clothes were tattered, their skin filthy, and their hair matted with dirt. The taller man groaned and rolled onto his side, his staff clattering to the hard ground.

"Help my friend," he said, "Please."

He crawled over to a shorter man, trying to shake him awake.

"Give me space," Eliaria said, pulling the tall man away.

And then her eyes fell on the smaller man, his injuries looked fatal. She was surprised that he was still alive. He was unconscious, covered in blood, but his chest rose and fell shallowly.

Eliaria knelt beside him, touching his arm. "Can you hear me?"

His eyelids fluttered open and he coughed. Blood spattered the floor, he was choking on his own blood.

"What happened here?" Eliaria demanded. "Who did this?"

The man coughed again. "I'm sorry," he gasped. "I... I didn't mean to..."

***

I awoke in a cold sweat, mumbling to myself. It was dark, but I could feel the presence of someone nearby.

As I opened my eyes, the room came into focus, revealing a woman kneeling beside me.

"Mother?" I croaked.

I tried to move, but every muscle ached, my ribs were broken, my windpipe crushed and my heart beat like a drum in my chest as I gasped for breath.

I felt numb, disorientated, a slave to my pain. Through my tears, I saw a young woman, no older than I was, praying beside me. She wore a white priestess robe that draped over one shoulder, exposing a brass amulet she wore around her neck.

Someone moved, and I saw Flint standing behind the girl, his face a mask of worry.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"Will he live?" Flint asked.

The girl didn't say a word, instead she reached out with one slender hand and placed it on my forehead. Her touch made tingles run up my arm and down into my fingers.

A fit of coughs racked my body and blood spilled from my lips.

Flint stepped closer, hovering over the girl's shoulder.

The girl, her face pinched by worry, sat next to me. "You are in the pilgrim's chamber," she said, "You're safe now."

That was when I realized what I had done.

I’d killed them all.

My hands reached for my chest, trying to claw the card out of my heart, but my arms failed, and I collapsed back against the bed.

"I did it," I said, my words an inaudible slur.

"Don't speak," said the girl.

She ran her finger along my skin and a gentle, shimmering light seemed to radiate from her fingertips, casting a warm, comforting glow that enveloped me, dispelling the pain and fatigue.

A great weight lifted off of my chest and I inhaled deeply, feeling cool air filling my lungs.

She was healing me.

The priestess gasped in pain as a slash appeared on her cheek, followed by a bruise under her left eye.

I sat up in alarm.

Something was attacking her, her face paled, but she kept smiling, wiping away tears that rolled down her cheek with a sleeve.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for the attacker.

"What's happening!" Flint said, behind her.

"Stay back," was all she said in response.

Claw marks and bruises appeared in a ring around her throat, and her eyes misted up as her face turned blue.

Was the attacker invisible? Why was it only targeting her?

Tears fell from her eyes, splashing against my chest.

"What's going on?" I demanded, grabbing hold of her shoulder. "Who’s doing this to you?"

I shook her gently, trying to get her attention. "Speak to me!"

With an effort, she opened her mouth and spoke in a soft voice, "I’m trying to help."

"What!" I exclaimed, confused by her words.

"Is it a ghost?" Flint asked, backing away from Eliaria.

The priestess shook her head, and my eyes widened as I realized what was happening.

"You are taking my wounds into your body?" I said. "Absorbing them through the same power that's healing me."

She nodded again.

"You don't have to," I whispered. "I'm not worth it, I've caused enough pain already."

As if in answer, her already pale face grew paler, and I caught sight of a deep gash along her jaw, cutting down to her neck.

I tried pushing her back, to save her from my pain, but my arms were still weak and she easily resisted me.

"It's going to be ok," she said, her voice fading.

There was a terrible clangor behind us and we spun around.

Two men appeared at the door.

The shorter man drew his sword and pressed the blade to Flint’s throat, pushing him back against the wall.

The taller man grabbed the girl by the scruff of her neck and lifted her up.

"Are you injured!" he yelled.

"No," she pleaded.

"Leave her," I hissed, drawing my dagger.

The man ignored me, instead he looked her up and down, taking in the cuts and bruises on her face. But even as I watched, I saw the blue tinge leaving her face and her wounds closing up, returning to normal.

"You healed this stranger without the high priest's consent," the man said as he turned to face me.

The shorter man nodded, his blade still aimed at Flint’s neck.

"She's alive, Amos," he said, "that's all that matters. Get this mess cleaned up, the high priest will want to hear about this."

The tall man dropped the priestess to the floor and strode over to me, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

"What do we have here?" he asked.

I felt something stir inside me, a burning desire to hurt these men. I was angry at them, at myself, at everybody. It rose within me like a wave, drowning any thought or concern I might have.

"You touch her or Flint," I snarled, my voice echoing in the room, "and I'll kill you both."

The man's eyes widened as green orbs of light appeared atop my fingertips, casting shadows across the walls.

"Bloody hell!" Flint said.

The man drew his sword and moved towards me, I heard the click of my own dagger being drawn as he came closer.

"Please, no bloodshed in front of the altar," the priestess said, standing between the man and I.

The tall man’s eyes shifted from mine to the girls, then back to me, I could tell that he was calculating the odds. If he attacked, the girl would get in the way, giving me time to release [Toxic Barrage] and take him out, but if he backed off, he'd look weak and foolish.

He settled on a compromise. "You two will remain here until the high priest decides what to do with you."

***