The inclined stairway into the Great Temple opened into a wide chamber. It was a vast area enclosed by stone that shut out the world beyond its walls. People loitered throughout, illuminated by golden flames that flickered within bronze lanterns affixed to the wall—magical in nature, no doubt.

Murals that were crafted with fine details lined the walls and columns that supported the ceiling. History recorded and preserved within the very foundations of the stone. It appeared they were the primary focus of the chamber as elders and youths rounded them while members of the clergy spoke in words that were foreign to the Monk.

Despite being here, in a foreign place of worship, and his appearance straying from the norm, he didn't feel like an uninvited guest. The eyes of strangers tended to weigh on him, especially when in such large numbers. These didn’t feel as heavy as the skewering gazes he received venturing into the town at the foot of the mountains that he called home.

It was likely due to the presence of the Head Chantress. Any doubts or fears towards foreigners would likely be dispelled upon seeing her within their company. He recalled a saying about the company one kept, and because of that, he supposed looking upon him with those same heavy gazes he was used to would be an affront to her character.

They continued onwards unimpeded through a set of doors at the end of the chamber. The pillared hallway on the opposite end branched in three directions, with the evening chill slipping in from the openings to the left and right. Courtyards that had been hidden from the outside due to the nature of the structure.

The Head Chantress guided the two along the path leading directly north, receiving reverent and respectful bows from other members of the temple in passing. She responded with an incline of her head that didn’t compromise her posture or pace while continuing forward. She only paused in her steps when her ears flicked moments before a younger, full-blooded maui’en hastily turned a corner and nearly crashed into them.

The newcomer’s dark fur contrasted with the plain white cloth draping her body, tied with a sash around her waist. Her golden eyes were wide as she came within a hair’s breadth of colliding with the head of their religious order, leaving her fur standing on end as she backed away. Her voice came out at a higher pitch as she profusely bowed her head.

“My apologies, Head Chantress! I was just in a dire hurry to…” A breeze passed through the corridor at that moment and her ears twitched. “Tend to the herbs!”

The Monk couldn’t claim to be the most insightful of individuals. But the way her eyes shifted back and forth during the pause left him to doubt her claim. There were also scattered crumbs along her furred cheeks that hadn’t been properly brushed off, and he had a strong suspicion that the kitchen was likely in that direction.

The Head Chantress either failed to notice or more likely simply allowed the excuse to pass as she held out her hand slowly in a calming gesture. Then she touched the amulet around her neck. It had the same kind of gemstone that resembled the eye of a feline now that he was in his right mind to take notice.

There was no unpleasant sensation washing over him this time. But he noticed that even as the aged maui’en’s mouth moved no words reached his ears. Then the younger maui’en began to speak but, once more, only silence reached his ears again.

A private discussion between them. Had he the curiosity or talent he might have tried to read their lips. But he did not want to overextend the privilege that he was already being given and was content to wait until their private conversation tapered off when the wizened priestess removed her padded finger from the gemstone.

Her voice returned as she addressed him directly. “This young lady will serve as your attendant for the duration of your stay, starting with guiding you to the accommodations we’ve prepared and answering any questions you might have along the way. In your room, you may cleanse yourself in the adjacent bath, and by the time you emerge, there will be a warm meal waiting for you. The artifact can be placed in the Sanctuary afterward.”

He imagined that entering a sacred place while covered in the stench of sweat and sickness would be rather rude. And he'd been told not to spur the kindness of others when in their domain. So he bowed his head and offered thanks. “Thank you for your kindness.”

She regarded his courtesy with an incline of the head before continuing along the path she had been on. The Half-Maui’en Ranger similarly gave him a wave and ‘see you later’ before following the venerated chantress towards the Sanctuary. It must have been where respects were to be paid given that was part of the reason she had accompanied them thus far.

The Apprentice Chantress, he decided, straightened up and promptly spun on her feet. Then she began walking in the direction that she had come from. “Follow me, and I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

He followed silently behind her. Gone was the tension in her body from before now that she was outside of the view of the Head Chantress. She strode with almost playful steps and a sway of her tail as she led him along the corridors, pointing out the rooms they passed along the way and giving what she felt was helpful advice to navigate the compound itself.

“Just let me know whenever you get hungry,” she made sure to note when the scent of what smelled like broth and fruit reached his nose. “Since you’re an honored guest, I can get you snacks without anyone complaining since no one expects you to adhere to the schedule. I’ll also bring you extra portions to help you recover from being lost in the desert, and if you can’t finish them just leave them on your plate for me to deal with.”

He wanted to assume that meant she would dispose of the excess. But considering her tone, and the earlier crumbs, he suspected otherwise. “I’ll try not to place more of a burden on you or your people by being so demanding.”

Her head shook vehemently at that. “No, no, you should eat when you can. You’d be surprised at how easily you get hungry out here. And the Head Chantress said that tending to your needs takes priority over my other duties, so it’d be more conven—”

She covered her mouth to silence the words he was certain he wasn’t meant to hear and then hurried to lead him to what must have been housing meant for important guests.

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His quarters were a spacious room that held a certain sense of... lavishness. The sheets were silky to the touch, the bedding soft and elevated, and there were chests of fine wood meant to house belongings and wardrobes standing off to one side. There was also a mirror of polished bronze casting a reflection of himself.

It felt too luxurious. Out of place compared to the modesty that seemed natural in this place. The bed itself was so soft that he doubted he'd be able to sleep comfortably, given his normal sleeping arrangements.

“Okay, your bath is drawn,” the Apprentice Chantress announced as she stepped out of the room adjacent. “You can take your time and wash up while I get spare clothes. Your food will take a little longer though.”

Once she departed he entered the bathroom to find it fairly muggy. Lanterns were lit with magical flames that kept the bathroom bright while the tub itself was filled with water already, connected by bronze pipes that were attached to the wall. Scented oils had been placed within the water from the aroma that tickled his nose, carried into the air by the steam that lazily drifted from the surface.

He undressed and then settled into the hot water. The heat was quick to seep into his flesh, right down to the bone, as he sank up to his neck. He could even feel it vacating his throat as he let out a deep breath and turned his gaze towards the ceiling that glistened from the light and moisture.

It's almost over now. He had survived every ordeal until now, from the monsters to the desert itself. And now that he had made it here there was only turning over the contents of the pouch and witnessing the ceremony.

Then it would be over entirely. He would return to the mountains and bid the elven woman who had saved his sanity farewell. Then he would continue to practice under his family’s tutelage.

That was good enough… wasn’t it?

<->0<->0<->0<->0<->0<->

Bathed, fed, and dressed in temple-provided garments of white, the Monk followed the Apprentice Chantress as she led him to the Sanctuary.

The double doors that served as the boundary between the corridor and the interior were imposing. The intricate reliefs carved into them were inlaid with gold. And the air was tinged with some kind of scent...

Standing before the doors was the Head Chantress, having been awaiting their arrival. “How do you feel?”

“Much better,” he answered. “Once more, thank you for your kindness.”

“Think nothing of it.” Her gaze shifted from him to the doors that stood tall before she rested the pads of her hands on them and lightly pushed forward. They opened without so much as a squeak of the hinges. “Follow me inside.”

No sooner than the doors opened was he greeted with a rich, sweet scent; its deluded aroma having been lingering in the corridors. It came from burning censers, white pungent smoke rising from the gleaming bronze vessels in the shape of cats. The feline effigies were nestled next to golden flames that flickered within pots to illuminate the massive chamber.

Statues stood in four sections of the room. The massive figures were shaped in the images of what appeared to be Maui’en who likely had some religious importance that merited their likeness forever shaped from precious metal. In each of their embraces were artifacts—a crook, a mirror, an ankh, and a scepter respectively.

People were inside of the Sanctuary, including the Half-Maui’en Ranger, with their heads bowed in reverence as they kneeled on what looked to be bundled cloth while facing an alcove at the very back of the chamber. There was another statue whose hands were outstretched together but empty, Unlike the other statues, this one seemed much more important than the others and was draped in a silvery cloth that seemed to be woven of moonlight itself.

If he had to guess, it was made in the image of the Goddess of Maui’nwi.

Likewise, beneath it lay what appeared to be a… cat. Its fur was as black as the curtain of night itself. An argent collar adorned with precious gems ringed its neck, upon which a white sheen shifted over the polished surface as the almost regal feline craned its head in their direction from its silk bed.

The Head Chantress began to make her way inside and the Monk moved to follow. But the moment he set foot beyond the doorframe he froze as he felt the abundance of energy within the air. It felt charged, like the oasis created by an unknown druid he had been in prior, but markedly different. This sensation felt much lighter as it washed against him, an ethereal presence that prickled his skin from head-to-toe as it slowly tried to embrace him and seep past his skin.

The Apprentice Chantress noticed his discomfort and asked softly, “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head as he pressed forward to follow the older chantress as she made her way toward the alcove near the back. The feline that had been laying comfortably on its bed had risen at this point, leaning forward towards them. If he had to guess from the body language it was curious based on how its ears were high and facing forward while there was a slight curl at the tip of its tail.

That curiosity seemed to have peaked as it deigned to set foot on the same ground they tread upon, approaching them rather than awaiting their arrival. Then, with its eyes fixed onto them—no, him specifically, an ever so slight mewl escaped its mouth.

And he heard it.

“OH MY, HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE A TOUCHED-ONE SUCH AS YOURSELF HAVE WALKED THESE HALLS?”

The bell-like voice rang within his skull and shook him to his core, leaving him to fall to a knee and clutch his forehead. He had been a fool to think that this was a mere cat meant to serve as some sort of sacred animal. No, the cat itself was a living vessel. One for a spirit of eld unlike any he had encountered before as it strolled up to him.

“SET YOUR MIND AT EASE, CHILD. I MEAN NO HARM, BUT IN THIS PLACE MY VOICE BECOMES OVERBEARING AGAINST SUCH BULWARKS.”

He did so, as the mental wall served no purpose. The voice slipped past it with such ease it might as well not have been there at all. It came down, crumbling like sand.

“Such solid mental defenses are a rarity,” said the voice that had become much softer. It was feminine yet heavy, carrying with it a tenor that seemed to resonate like an echo within a cave. “However, you are within a temple and consecrated grounds wrought by my power. Such a place renders them counterproductive unless the grounds are desecrated. Pray mind that in the future.”

“I see,” he said, kneeling properly to address her as she came to a stop in front of him and ran her gaze up and down him, peering so deeply that he had the impression she was looking beyond his flesh. “Your presence of voice eclipses that of those that normally attempt to commune with me. It has more weight and sounds far more wizened.”

“So, you’ve only communed with land-borne spirits then?” She sat on her hind legs and rested a forepaw onto his knee as if to comfort him. “Such chaotic things they are for a young mind so far removed from instinct to comprehend without training. No wonder you sought to shut out part of the gift you possess, touched-one.”

He furled his brows at the word. “Why do you refer to me as that?”

“Because that is what you are. Not a priest or cleric by devotion granted, but a blessed child touched by the spirits to act as a medium between the worlds. Through one such as yourself the will of the world may be conveyed, and voice given for those who cannot perceive what we say.”

He processed that information and found it to be bitter. “…I never asked for such a thing. Neither the duty or burden of it.”

“You’ve suffered for it then?” She purred before climbing up his knee and standing on her hind legs, pressing her forehead against his. “Open your heart to me so that I may understand your woes.”

He felt the soft touch reaching into his mind and fought down the instinct to push back, instead letting it through. The instant he did he found himself sinking, being pulled along as the spirit combed through his memories. And with them came a level of clarity that was beyond what he could recall on his own.

Or rather than what he wanted to ever recall.