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Interlude pt3

As the temple came into view, Akane nudged Mocha, pointing discreetly to a store. Turning her head, Mocha caught sight of a quaint clothing shop nestled among the buildings.

“Can you get a cloak,” Akane whispered, pressing a mishmash of coins into Mocha’s hand. “For... blending in.”

Mocha glanced down at the coins, then realized the intention. Oh, her ears and tails.

“Wait. Where did you get these coins?”

“From our adventures,” Akane replied with a wink, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “My part of the loot.”

“And where mine?”

“In Iris's room,” Akane replied, a touch too innocently.

Mocha rolled her eyes, letting out a playful huff. Of course, she’s got my loot on lockdown.

A soft swish of a tail, playful and teasing, grazed Mocha's arm, causing her to chuckle. We're about to do something sneaky, aren't we? she mused.

Quickly, Mocha entered the shop, her heart racing a bit from the excitement of their upcoming scheme. She selected a light black cloak, the fabric smooth under her fingers, and offered the handful of coins to the elderly shopkeeper. The woman raised an eyebrow, seemingly deliberating for a moment, before taking probably a coin or two more than the cloak's worth.

Whatever.

Emerging from the store, the streets now cast in the shadow of the setting sun, Mocha handed the cloak to Akane. In one fluid motion, the fox gracefully draped the cloak over herself, adjusting the hood to perfectly obscure her distinct features.

With Akane now suitably disguised, the duo resumed their journey, their footsteps crunching on the gravel path that led to the imposing structure. The massive pillars and intricate carvings of the temple's facade stood as a testament to the reverence held for the pantheon’s so-called Family. Statues of the gods of the elves dotted the courtyard, standing stoically among the vibrant blooms of the garden.

It was pretty.

Mocha and Akane, moving with an air of casual nonchalance, joined a group of worshippers who were just entering the temple. The cool, sacred ambiance of the temple enveloped them as they moved forward, two souls amongst many, seeking solace and connection in this place of the elven gods.

As they entered the temple's main hall, they found themselves amidst a sea of worshippers. Long, ornate benches stretched out before them, their intricate woodwork polished to a gleaming sheen. The two quickly took a spot in the back, glancing around as the creaks and whispers of settling bodies filled the room.

Up ahead, a platform raised slightly above the rest held an elven woman. Cloaked in flowing robes of deep green and gold, she looked every bit the part of a speaker for the elven gods. Her eyes closed briefly, taking in a deep breath, then she began to speak. Her voice, melodic and strong, carried across the room, demanding everyone's rapt attention.

Just as the congregation's gaze became firmly fixed on the priestess, Akane's elbow gave a discreet nudge into Mocha's side. The signal was clear. It's time. With an effortless grace, the duo began to slide from their seats.

To any onlooker, it would have seemed as though the two women were just stepping out briefly, perhaps to answer nature's call.

But their intent was far more clandestine.

Moving with purpose, yet not drawing undue attention, they wandered down a dimly lit corridor. The faint scent of burning incense lingered in the air, guiding their steps as they navigated the maze-like interior of the temple.

Their footsteps, muffled by the plush carpet that adorned the hallway, barely made a sound. Every so often, they would pause, pressing themselves against a wall or ducking into a shadowy alcove whenever they heard the distant echo of footsteps or voices.

The walls of the temple were adorned with vibrant tapestries depicting tales of the gods, their threads shimmering under the muted light from the occasional torch. Each turn brought a new visual feast, but the duo kept their focus, ever-vigilant and alert.

The walls were adorned with old fabric that had faded pictures sewn into them. Mocha wasn’t sure what the appeal was. Muted sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the stone floor and bathing the halls in a warm, ethereal glow.

Which would be pretty to look at if she didn’t have the master fox of illusions next to her that could make prettier things.

As they walked down the halls, they encountered the scene of a man dressed in black robes standing outside a larger door conversing with a finely dressed woman who was wearing a poofy, extravagant dress. It looked like she was trying too hard.

Iris looked much better in her dresses.

The woman had a refined, aristocratic air about her, and she was smiling in a way that conveyed both confidence and fake gratitude. As she spoke, even her attitude was annoying.

She was probably a dumb bitch.

“...Lady Imogen, thank you for coming by today. I am pleased that we were able to offer assistance in your path, and I am truly grateful for your generous donation to Their temple. May Alos smile down upon you,” the robed man said with a gentle bow.

“Thank you, Hierophant,” Lady Imogen replied in a voice that was both gracious and commanding. “I shall take my leave now and return in four weeks to verify my progress.”

“Until then, milady,” the Hierophant said, his voice filled with respect.

As Lady Imogen turned to leave, she caught sight of Akane, and her body physically jerked in shock. Her eyes widened as they fixed on the hooded form of the foxy woman. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but before any words could escape her lips, an armored woman quickly stepped between them.

“Have a pleasant day, Lady Imogen,” the woman in red armor said firmly.

“B-But…”

“Please escort the lady out,” the woman instructed while maintaining a calm and authoritative tone.

“Right this way, milady,” a priest standing nearby said in a gentle voice.

Lady Imogen tried to glance back at Akane, her curiosity clear as day, but the priest gently guided her away, keeping her from looking back.

When Lady Imogen was finally out of sight, the woman turned her attention to the robed elf. “Hierophant,” she began, “I apologize for the intrusion. I will handle this.”

The woman turned to where Mocha and Akane stood. “May we help you? You two are outside of the authorized areas.”

Both Akane and Mocha jumped, startled, and the Hierophant laughed gently. “Praetor, that wasn't kind. You scared these two young women.”

The sun elf woman in red armor with golden accents and a spotless white tabard sporting an embroidered sun stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over the two of them, lingering on Mocha. “Who are you?”

Mocha, regaining her composure, smiled. “My name... is Mocha.”

Akane waved enthusiastically. “I'm Akane. Iris is my sister.”

That made the horse in sun elf form roll her eyes. Does she have to brag?

She’s my best friend.

The woman sighed, her tone exasperated. “Iris Stuart? You…” Her eyes glowed briefly, narrowing further. “You are her sister?”

Akane nodded quickly, her voice eager. “Yes! Sister.”

The woman regarded them for a moment. “I am the Praetor of this temple.” She then asked, “What can Their devoted do for you today?”

That was a good sign, and Mocha felt better about what they wanted to accomplish. She just had to convince this woman to help them.

Mocha's smile was bright and hopeful. “Show Path!”

Feck, I hate talking like this. I sound like a filly.

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The red-armored woman raised an eyebrow. “I'm sorry?”

Akane jumped in, her voice more composed as she tried walking past the armored woman. “Show us our paths, please?” The woman stepped in Akane’s way and placed a hand on the foxy girl’s shoulder. Akane’s jumped in fright and bumped hard into the woman. “Oh! Sorry,” she said before backing away.

Akane handed a quill to Mocha. “Please hold!”

Mocha smirked and nodded.

The paladin gathered herself before looking between them with an unamused expression. “Unfortunately, due to the number of people who wish to undergo it, we require individuals to make an appointment or to come on public days.”

Akane's face fell, and she pouted. “But! Iris said…”

The paladin sighed. “I will have to request for you to step back.”

Akane sulked as she did as she was told.

The woman's eyes flashed with mana.

She narrowed her eyes at Mocha and Akane, her voice questioning yet firm. “You wholly believe that Miss Stuart is your sister. But she isn't your real sister, is she?”

“Iris. Sister,” Akane said, her voice firm and a bit defiant.

“Why are you two speaking like that?”

The kitsune tried again, focusing with greater effort. “We just want to see paths. Pleaaase~!” she asked in a sing-song tone.

The paladin, however, seemed more intrigued than irritated. “The Ceremony of Paths is sacred. We can't just offer it on a whim.”

Akane's eyes shimmered, and she seemed to be thinking rapidly. “I understand, but…” she began, clearly trying to think of what to say.

Mocha laid a hand on Akane's shoulder and gently pulled her back. Mana filled her as it did in times of need, just like her best friend, and this time she knew what she had to do. She needed to focus and she needed to act like a real elf. She smiled at Akane as blue mana settled into her mind, organizing her thoughts and allowing her to focus. She felt something click, something important… something that would help her gain confidence in situations just like this and Mocha spoke it aloud, “[Trust me, I've Got This].”

Akane took a deep breath and nodded.

“We are close friends with Iris,” Mocha explained, her voice smooth and articulate. “The Flash changed us like it did many others. Iris once said that she was told something here about her Excerpt, something that ultimately saved our group when we needed it most. I believe that Akane and I can be of help too. We just want to learn and understand our roles. I don't want to fall too far behind my best friend. Please, we mean no disrespect.”

For her part, the praetor's reaction was immediate.

“You are using magic.”

Mocha tilted her head. “Only to help me focus. I didn’t mean—”

“Not you. Her,” the woman said gesturing to Akane.

Mocha turned to the fox who was trying to look as innocent as possible. “Akane…”

When Mocha returned her focus to the elf, she noticed the praetor’s hand resting on the hilt of her sword, her eyes glowing yellow with mana as she watched them intently. Mocha felt a surge of adrenaline, and she shifted her position to move slightly in front of Akane, ready for a fight if it came to that. In her current form, she wasn't sure how well she would fare, but she wouldn't back down.

She could see the black-robed elf’s head tilt in consideration as he watched the interaction.

“Your eyes… you aren't a terran,” the praetor accused, her glowing eyes almost piercing in their scrutiny. “That much is clear as day.” Her eyes jerked back to Mocha. “And you aren’t a sun elf either, are you? Who… or what are you?”

Mocha looked at the praetor with a confident smile on her face. The new ability she had found within herself wasn't something external; it was for herself. Her voice steady, she began to speak.

Mocha gestured to the praetor's sword, her tone becoming slightly playful. “I am Mocha Latte, best friend of Iris Stuart and if you still want to draw that sword, we can step outside after for a friendly spar and I'll kick your face in. I’ve learned that it solves a lot of problems. Then, I can show you how to use it properly. Trust me, I’m an expert.”

The praetor's eyebrows shot up, and she took a deep breath as if she was about to say something. But then, something happened that Mocha didn't expect.

The hierophant started laughing.

It was like a switch and the building tension melted as the man stepped forward and laid a hand on the elf’s shoulder. “Praetor, let’s give them a chance to speak. It’s clear they mean no harm.”

The real sun elf woman regained her composure and straightened her back. She gave Mocha a searching look as a corner of her lip curled slightly upward. “You fully, and I mean fully believed that statement. I’m impressed.”

“I believe these two will provide an enlightening Ceremony of Paths,” the hierophant stated calmly. “One from which the Church will gain much understanding. I would like to think you for your vigilance, Praetor. You do credit to your order, but this… I believe is something the Archpriestess will want to know more about.”

The praetor’s eyes widened, and she finally seemed to fully take in the appearance of Mocha and Akane. Her breath hitched for a moment, but she quickly composed himself. “Of course,” she agreed in a measured tone.

Turning to one of the other black-robed men, the hierophant instructed, “Please delay our next appointment.”

“Yes, Hierophant,” the man responded with a respectful bow.

“I will wait out here, Hierophant,” the Praetor said, her tone respectful. “Alos Protects.”

The Hierophant hesitated briefly, seemingly contemplating something, before finally nodding in acknowledgment. “Understood. We will call upon you if there is a need. However, I have a feeling that these young women will be most pleasant to work with.” He looked at Akane and Mocha with a warm smile and gestured toward the open door. “Please, follow me.”

Mocha Latte walked alongside her kitsune friend as they were led into the circular chamber by the Hierophant. The room, lit with a faint blue glow emanating from the walls, housed a pedestal in the center with a massive mana core on top of it. Three robed figures, shrouded in shadows, stood in waiting.

The Hierophant stepped forward and turned to Mocha. “Miss, if you're comfortable, I suggest that you undertake the ceremony alone.”

Mocha's eyes darted to Akane, who nodded in understanding. “She’s staying,” Mocha declared with a hint of stubbornness in her voice.

The Hierophant, his eyes obscured by the shadow of his hood, locked onto Mocha, his voice gentle yet questioning, “Are you sure? The sanctity of the ceremony’s secrecy is paramount. We have sworn an oath upon the Family to never divulge what we call the prime details of your Excerpt.”

“Yes,” Mocha reaffirmed. “I'm certain.”

The elf then explained how the ceremony would go and motioned for Mocha to step toward the pedestal in the center of the chamber.

As Mocha placed her hands on the cool surface of the mana core, the other seers readied their quills and parchments, their faces a mix of excitement and curiosity.

The man murmured under his breath, his eyes slowly filling with a yellow light. Mocha felt an odd yet soothing pulse of energy flow through her. The room felt different, almost charged with a peculiar magic. The other seers leaned in with anticipation, the soft scratching of their quills filling the room.

As the Hierophant began to speak, the room went utterly still. It was quickly apparent something was different as the quills started scratching faster and light gasps filled the room.

> Mocha Latte Stuart

> Manabound Equine

> (Nascent Growth Imminent)

>

> Path: Storm’s Herald

> Steps: 51

>

> Core Quality: Remarkable

>

> Affinity: Unknown

> Attunement: Blue, Green

> Alignment: Hybrid

>

>

> All About Me: [Close at Heart], [Uniquely Fabulous], [I Can Do This All Day]

>

>

> Set it and Forget it: [Can’t Touch This], [Stop Falling Off], [I Am Speed], [I Can Dress Myself], [Trust Me, I’ve Got This]

>

> If I Have To: [Nothing a Kick to the Face Can't Fix], [Can’t Even Spell Inersha], [What Works for you, Works for Me]

The room was silent, save for the seers hurriedly writing down everything. The Hierophant stared at Mocha, eyes wide, then finally whispered, “It is an honor to meet you, Miss Stuart. You are a truly fascinating person.”

Tears streaked down Mocha's face as she felt the sudden rush of emotions that came with what the man had said and the revelation of her Excerpt. Akane immediately pulled her into an embrace. Mocha, her voice thick with emotion, whispered, “Sisters!”

Then it was Akane’s turn.

Akane's participation in the ceremony caused a stir among the ones who called themselves seers. Each line spoken seemed more mystifying than the last, but it was when she gracefully drew back her hood at the end that the chamber filled with hushed gasps. The fabric slid back to reveal her fuzzy fears and other kitsune features, causing the onlookers to exchange a mix of shock and awe.

The Hierophant appeared alight with barely suppressed glee. He stepped forward, extending a hand to maintain order, and made the other black-robed men and women remember their oath of secrecy, which they immediately did.

When the ceremony concluded, the two made their way to the Hierophant.

Gratitude shining in their eyes, he offered each of them a scroll, an intricate seal marking its authenticity. “This is a record of your Excerpt,” he explained, his voice warm and reverent. “Do you have any questions for us?” When both Mocha and Akane shook their heads he continued, “Then I would like to grant you permission to return here whenever your hearts desire. Though,” he added, a playful glint entering his eyes, “next time, perhaps bring Miss Stuart along.”

Akane's eyes crinkled in a sincere smile. “We will,” she promised.

With the weight of the ceremony behind them, Akane and Mocha swiftly navigated the streets, making their way to their inn. The dim lighting of the entrance lobby greeted them, and the wooden floor creaked beneath their steps. Akane, turning to Mocha, inquired in a low voice, “You still have quill?”

Without speaking, Mocha reached into her pocket and produced the item. But then, as if caught in a breeze of magic, the illusion surrounding the quill dissipated. It transformed into a magnificent sword, its hilt adorned with intricate designs and gems that caught the soft lighting, making it gleam.

Mocha's eyes widened in stunned realization. Ah. This isn’t good…

A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. “Where the hell have you two been?” Iris demanded, her tone dripping with a mix of concern and irritation.

From the shadows, another voice emerged, this one sharper and more accusing. “And why,” Kaira inquired, “do you have a paladin's ceremonial blade in your possession?”

Mocha's startled gaze darted to Akane, who seemed unusually pleased with herself, a mischievous grin stretching across her lips.

The magical being, disguised as a sun elf, let out an exasperated sigh. “Ah, feck.”