All the villagers of Zenith's Peak sat in the great hall of Teon, whispering nervously as the Witherveil ceremony began. A painting of Teon, their patron, hung from the wall behind the congregation. It depicted the young god in his prime, with a broad chest, long legs, and a handsome face. Around his neck was his signature eye-amulet radiating golden light.

The villagers paid the painting no mind. Their eyes were firmly fixed on the spot where the Heartwarden would enter. A few looked directly at the high priest, dressed in his red ceremonial robes, but no one spoke.

Eliaria felt her stomach lurch as she waited in the backroom for the priests to finish preparing the altar. She heard nothing but muffled whispers from the crowd and the constant chanting from the priests.

Her anxiety grew by the moment.

She knew that once she entered the hall, Witherveil would begin. If she failed to complete the ritual, the scriptures said that the village would be damned, the blight would sweep over them like a tidal wave, and they would all die. And the gods knew, she wanted more than anything to please the Maker and save her people.

The priest's chanting rose to a crescendo, signaling her cue.

Eliaria stepped out into the hall. The crowd fell silent. There were no tears, just fear and watchful eyes. She walked slowly toward the altar, her every movement slow and graceful, her head held high.

The priests followed behind, carrying incense burners that filled the room with a sweet, pungent aroma. The candles that lined the walls cast flickering shadows across her face and shoulders as she knelt before the altar. Her hands trembled as she reached out and touched the cold marble slab.

"Heartwarden, why are you here?" the high priest asked, his voice echoing through the chamber.

Eliaria closed her eyes and took a deep breath, calming her nerves, "To fulfill the Maker's will," she said.

The high priest nodded solemnly. He raised his hands to the ceiling and his voice joined in the choir of voices.

"Maker, hear us," the voices boomed, "give us the strength to fulfill your will."

Two priests stepped forward, guiding Eliaria onto the marble slab. They lifted her arms, tying them to the sides of the altar.

Six young girls, all ten years old, entered the hall, carrying baskets of flowers. Their faces were painted white, their lips red. Each girl placed a single flower on the altar, then backed away, standing in a row.

They fidgeted nervously, their eyes darting between Eliaria and the high priest.

One of the girls looked at Eliaria, and their eyes met briefly. The Heartwarden smiled weakly, and the girl quickly looked away, blushing.

Eliaria's heart raced as the priests tied her legs down. Her breath came in shallow gasps.

The high priest raised his hands again, calling for silence. The chanting stopped, and the high priest gazed into a polished crystal ball that sat atop the altar.

"Now we will select the next Heartwarden," the high priest continued, "so she may be a light in the darkness, until the Maker calls her home."

He peered into the ball again. "Is there another worthy of the honor?"

In the ball's depths, Eliaria could see the reflection of the young girl's faces. All of them looked terrified.

The high priest looked into the ball for a moment longer, then he pointed a finger at the girl standing nearest the altar.

"Behold, the next Heartwarden," he said, his voice echoing through the chamber.

One of the priests approached the girl, taking her hand in his.

The girl shook her head.

"Maker bless you," the high priest said, and the crowd murmured the blessing in response.

"May you never forget your duty," the high priest said, "May you serve your term with honor and pride."

"I don't want to die!" the young girl cried, trying to pull away from the priest.

"Do not despair, child," the high priest said, "the Maker chose you for a reason. Your life is to serve and in death you keep the blight at bay, it's a great honor."

The girl struggled against the priests, screaming as they dragged her toward the altar.

The high priest ignored the commotion, watching Eliaria with a curious expression.

"Remove the Maker's foundation card," said the high priest, "so the new Heartwarden may step into your shoes."

Tears began to stream down Eliaria's cheeks as she touched her heart with her right hand.

This felt wrong somehow.

She was only doing what the scriptures commanded, but she had expected to be at peace in her final moments.

She took a deep breath. It was her duty to save these people. She knew that where she was going there would be no suffering, no death. She just wished there was more she could have done with her life.

"Maker's will," she whispered as she reached in and drew the cards out.

***

As night fell the temple grew quiet, the priests and the guards disappeared, leaving only the soft, rhythmic sound of the temple bells ringing.

Flint crouched in front of the door, trying to pick the lock with a fork he'd stolen during breakfast, while I sat back against the wall.

He cursed and swore as the lock resisted his efforts.

"You know, I can kick the door down," I said.

Flint peered through the keyhole and back at me. "There could still be guards about."

"The last of them just left," I said, standing up.

"How do you know?"

"Grant whistles when he's on guard, and it's been silent for the last hour."

I took a step back, preparing to kick in the door.

"Wait, I almost got it."

He went back to the lock, fiddling with the fork.

I sighed and put my back against the wall. "I thought the point was to break out before the ceremony is over."

Flint glared at me, "Well, if you want to go barging around kicking down doors and making a racket, I won't stop you."

"It's not like we're breaking out of jail, it's a temple."

"Same difference," Flint muttered. "These old locks are all rusty and shit."

The bells tolled once more, the sound echoing off the surrounding walls.

"Let me just do it," I said.

Flint grunted but continued picking the lock.

"Step back," I said, lining myself up for the kick.

As I took a step forward, the lock clicked open.

"See, I told you I had it," he said, standing up.

I grinned, "You do your best work under pressure."

"Were you winding me up on purpose?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Maybe."

"That's low, even for you, Bas."

I grinned, "You should have seen the look on your face."

"Shut up and go."

***

Flint and I stepped out into the corridor to survey our surroundings for the first time since arriving at the temple.

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The stone hallways were lined with torches, and a few of the braziers were lit, giving us enough light to navigate.

"I feel bad about leaving the priestess," I whispered.

"Yeah, well, this is how things have to be," Flint said. "We don't have any other choice."

"Still, it feels wrong. She saved our lives."

"I'm sure she'll find a way out of here when the time comes."

I shook my head, knowing the odds were stacked against her. She might be a card mage, but she was still a prisoner, and the odds were not in her favor.

"We can't worry about the priestess now," Flint said, "we have to find our gear and get the hell out of here."

I nodded, "Yeah, let's go."

A cold breeze drifted down the hallway as we passed a row of wooden doors. All the rooms were empty, and the place was strangely quiet.

"This place isn't anything like I expected," I whispered, as we moved further down the halls.

The temple looked old, with massive stained-glass windows on either side of the passage. They were covered in dust, and most had broken panes, but they still let in enough light for us to see.

"Me neither," Flint said. "It's a ghost town."

The bells tolled again, and I looked up, seeing the bell tower to my right.

"The high priest's chamber is that way," I said, gesturing at the bell tower.

"It's the last place I'd want my room to be," Flint said.

I laughed. "You have a point. That bell would drive me crazy really quick."

"Maybe he's trying to cover up some other noise?"

I glanced at Flint, "What are you suggesting?"

"You've seen the priestess," he said. "If it was my temple, and I had a beautiful young priestess locked away in it, I wouldn't want any interruptions."

"You think the priestess and the high priest..." I began.

"I don't know," Flint said, "but she is strangely loyal to him."

I shook my head. "I don't think she's like that."

"How do you know?" Flint asked.

"Call it a gut feeling."

"Alright, then. What does your gut say we should do next?"

I pointed at the temple gardens. "Take a shortcut through there, it will come up right beside the bell tower."

Flint nodded and followed my lead, and the air grew cooler as we moved through the gardens. A faint mist rose from the ground, covering the plants. There was no one around, so we got a brief glimpse of the other half of the temple.

"It's huge," Flint whispered.

I nodded, taking in the sight. The temple was bigger than any building I'd ever seen in this world. A massive wall surrounded the entire structure, and it seemed to be made of some sort of metal.

The gatehouse itself was just as imposing as the walls. We couldn't get outside, not without going through the main gates, which were guarded by soldiers who would definitely notice our presence if there was anyone else around.

"There's no way we're getting through that," Flint said.

I nodded, "Not unless you have an army stashed away somewhere."

"Nope, not anymore," he replied, grinning.

"We've still got [Rootbound Bison]" I said, "He might not be able to fight, but he can probably smash through the gates."

"It's worth a shot."

The bell tolled once more, the loud ringing echoing through the air.

"Come on, the tower isn't far," I said, moving ahead.

***

As we drew nearer the high priest's chambers, the faint sound of chanting grew louder, and I heard footsteps approaching from inside the chamber.

I ducked behind a pillar, pulling Flint along with me, and we listened carefully to the voices coming down the hall.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"Nothing," I whispered, "we wait until they leave, then we go in and collect our stuff."

"But what if they don't leave?"

I shook my head, I didn't want to think about that yet. "They will, eventually."

"You seem confident."

"We don't have any other options," I said, peeking around the corner.

A pair of guards appeared down the passage, headed in our direction.

I backed away and tried to blend in with the shadows as they approached, hoping that the guards wouldn't notice us. I didn't want to have to fight, not yet anyway. If the alarm was sounded, we'd have to fight our way out, and how many men would die for that?

I clenched my fists and from the corner of my eye I saw Flint adjusting his stance, ready to attack.

"Easy," I whispered.

"We could take them."

"No," I whispered, "We have to wait, there's too much at stake here. Not just our lives but the priestess' as well."

He took a deep breath and nodded.

The guards continued drawing closer, chatting amongst themselves as they walked, unaware that we were watching them.

Any minute they would spot us, and we'd have a fight on our hands. Maybe we could strike first and knock them out before they sounded the alarm.

Just as I was about to leap from my position, the closest guard paused.

"You hear that?" he said.

"No, just the bells."

The two guards stopped, looking around, but neither of them saw us.

"Maybe it was rats."

"Maybe," said the second guard, "the high priest is gonna select the new Heartwarden soon. I wanna be there when it happens. My little sister is one of the candidates."

"Oh, that's rough," said the first guard, "hopefully she doesn't get picked."

The second guard shook his head and turned around, "She's a bit of an airhead, at least as Heartwarden she'll find some purpose in life."

"Yeah, but it's a terrible fate."

"True," the second guard said, "but she'll have a good life while it lasts, and a nice funeral after."

The guards continued down the hall, talking about the ceremony.

Flint looked over at me and raised his eyebrows.

I shrugged, unsure what to make of it.

We waited until the guards were out of sight before we stepped out into the open again.

"Now or never," Flint said, moving ahead.

I followed, keeping close behind him and keeping an eye out for the guards as we crept toward the door.

The door was shut.

"What are you waiting for?" I asked. "Go."

Flint put his shoulder against the door and pushed, but it didn't budge.

"Shit, it's not working," he said.

"What?"

"It’s locked."

"Defiler's luck," I swore.

I was sick of sneaking around. I took a step back and then kicked the door in. Splinters flew in all directions, and the sound echoed through the hall.

"What the hell!" Flint said, turning around.

I pushed away what remained of the door and stepped through, "Let's just get this over with."

***

Inside, the high priest's chamber was dark, and the smell of wine and incense filled the air.

Flint gagged. "Smells like a whore house in here."

"How would you know?" I said, looking around.

A single lamp sat on a desk at the center of the room, illuminating a stack of books and a large bed in the corner of the room.

"It's an educated guess," he said, walking over to the table.

"Educated, right," I laughed.

The high priest's quarters were lavish compared to the rest of the temple, which was mostly bare stone walls and dirt floors.

I walked over to the desk and started searching through the papers, looking for anything useful.

"Well, it looks like we got lucky," Flint said, kneeling down beside a small chest that rested against the far wall.

"Yeah," I replied, "if the whole hero thing doesn't work out, we should definitely consider becoming thieves."

"It's a lot less dangerous," Flint agreed, opening the lid, revealing several bundles of papers and scrolls. "More books," he groaned, "I thought priests were just meant to study the scriptures, there's maps and books on farming, mining, and even hunting, what the hell for?"

"I guess they need to know how to survive once the blight is gone," I said, reaching into the chest to look through the papers.

I pulled out a map and held it to the light, trying to make sense of it. It was a map of the genesis floor, it was similar to the map Eliaria had given us, but it seemed to only show the northern side of the floor. I searched the map for Misty Hollow, but it was nowhere to be found. What I did see, though, was a mountain, called Galefang Peak.

"Holy shit!" I said, "The way to the second floor, it's here."

Flint leaned over my shoulder, "Galefang Peak," he said. "Those card mages were telling the truth."

"It seems so," I replied, running my hand along the edge of the paper.

So Nidalee and Malachi had been telling the truth, the place really did exist, which meant the floor boss, Stormclaw, was possibly just as real too.

Flint tucked the map into his pocket and closed the chest.

"I'll search the desk," I said.

"Right, I'll take a look around," he said, heading for the bed.

I opened one of the draws, finding a variety of candles, a round red shard of glass and a bottle of wine. I picked up the glass shard, it felt cool to my touch, it looked just like the monocle that Malachi always wore. I tossed it into the backpack and took the bottle of wine for good measure.

The second draw was locked, but I managed to pry it open with a letter opener that lay on the table.

"That sick bastard," I said, eyeing the contents.

Inside was a badly drawn book displaying lewd images of women and animals doing unspeakable things, and a pair of girl's underwear.

"What is it?" Flint asked.

"Animal porn," I said, throwing the book onto the table.

"Bastard," Flint said, coming over and looking at it. "Isn't it bad enough that we eat goats, do we also need to use them for this shit?"

I shook my head and continued looking around the room. We'd searched nearly every part of it, but still I'd seen no sign of our relic weapons or my backpack.

Flint saw me looking and said, "You don't think it would be—"

He bent down and looked under the bed, he laughed, "This guy hides things like a five-year-old."

He reached under the bed and drew out his staff and my backpack, which he tossed to me.

"I don't want to know what he's done with that staff of yours," I said, grinning.

Flint groaned, "Now I need to wash my hands."

I opened my bag. Inside was my coin bag and my relic dagger, I pulled them out, feeling their familiar weight in my hands. I opened the coin purse, seeing my card essence sparking in the lamp light.

"It's good to have you back," I said with a smile.

"You're talking to your dagger again," Flint laughed.

I shrugged. "What can I say? I miss her when she's gone."

Flint rolled his eyes and slung his staff across his back. "I think I need a bath after that."

"Agreed," I said. "Let's get out of here before someone finds us."

We headed for the door, but before we could reach it, the sound of a girl's voice rang out. "I don't want to die!" the voice was choked with terror.

Flint looked at me and I nodded.

Before I knew what I was doing, Swiftblade was in my hand, and Flint and I were running in the direction of the screams.

***