She climbed the steps to the doors of the monastery, breathing in deeply. The smell of fresh flowers reached her nose and made her head spin. Ah yes, it was spring here after all. She smiled slightly as she pounded on the door and waited for the small porthole to open.

When it did, a small face peered out at her first in scrutiny, then recognition and relief. The old man exclaimed in joy and his head disappeared. The porthole closed and a moment later the large locks on the wooden door itself unlatched loudly and the door creaked open. She entered quietly and stood reverently as the elderly monk closed and relocked the door.

He came around to face her and grinned. Some of his teeth were lost to age and others had yellowed, but his grin was so sincere and so sweet that he looked glorious. His leather-wrinkled face lit up with that same joy and he embraced the paladin, who could do little more than grunt at the strength of his embrace as the air was knocked out of her momentarily.

After a short time, he released her and patted her arm, drawing her into the courtyard. She looked around and marveled at how he still managed to keep his gardens so lovely. The grass was green, smelled of fresh cutting, and looked like soft velvet. Her eyes drank in the color of the flowers lining the walkways, their bright hues softened by the grass and few trees along the path. The gravel path, neatly raked, crunched under their feet.

When they reached the courtyard proper, he dropped her hand and sat, gesturing to a spot on the bench beside himself. As she sat, the paladin felt the serenity and peace of this place wrap around her in a familiar way. The monk looked at her with benign expectancy, waiting for her to begin her tale.

"Maester, I come to you with a troubled mind." She started, then paused. She wasn't entirely sure how to proceed.

The monk nodded sagely and patted her hand encouragingly. "Go on, my child. I could tell that much by your face when you appeared at our gates. Would I be amiss in assuming that you have not the artifact?"

She shook her head in sadness. "I do not, Maester. I went to the location we discussed and entered the facility just before sundown. I kept the sun in my view, as you advised. I had just begun searching when the creature appeared."

She fell silent here, recalling the horror that had attacked. It was unlike anything she had ever encountered, and she confessed her fear to the monk with shame in her voice. The old man's responding laugh mocked her at first, until her head shot up and she looked at the mirth in his eyes.

"My dear girl," the monk said. "You have encountered precious little in our walls, I dare say. You were told that this task would present you with fears you had not yet known. This is no surprise to us. Did you think to simply walk in and take the artifact with no opposition?"

"No, but the protection of the gods, Maester..." her voice trailed off as the monk chuckled again.

"The gods protect and the gods ignore. Their whims are unknown to us mortals, and we must operate under our own set of laws and ethics. It would appear that they saw fit to protect you this time, however." He looked at her shrewdly and she wondered what he sought.

"The amulet you provided. When the sun struck it, it glowed. Then it repelled the creature." She stated, once again in a tone of making a simple report.

The monk exclaimed excitedly, clapping his hands together. "We knew it! We knew it would not desert you in your time of need!" At her questioning look, he turned to face her fully, taking her hands in his and looking up at her as if he was still the tall master she had known for many years in her youth. His voice took on a tone of indulgent instruction. "Aelira, your very name was given by the gods. Knight of the Dusk. You are a holy warrior for the gods, and the highest of them has protected you in your moment of need. This is a sign, my child. You are the one we have waited for, truly. The one who is destined to be the hand of Heaven, the warrior and protector of those the gods choose."

"What are you saying, Maester Lun?" Aelira's voice was a whisper.

"That you must go back and face that thing in the depths. It has festered for far too long in that place, and wrought its horrors on mankind. Now its time is done, and you will be the lance that will pierce through it. You are beloved of the gods, my girl. It is your destiny to defeat this darkness."

Aelira sat in stunned silence for a long moment, looking out across the courtyard at nothing in particular. How was she supposed to be the chosen holy warrior of the gods? Why her? It made no sense.

"Let me see your amulet, Aelira." Maester Lun said, his voice both commanding and gentle. He held out his hand. Aelira reached into her coat and produced the small ankh. She drew in breath sharply as she saw it still held a slight glow, even days later. Impossible, she thought. As she handed it to the Maester, the last glow faded and it sat, golden and inert, in his hand.

"You saw it, did you not? When you relinquished the amulet, the power drained from it. I do not possess what is needed to energize it, even with my training. You are the one for whom it is meant, Aelira. You and no other."

He handed it back gently and it seemed to faintly glimmer in her hand. She quickly pushed it back into her hidden pockets and gulped, loudly.

"Be not afraid, my girl. Your fear is what the creature desires most-- to make you so afraid that you will falter in your task. You must not. You must retrieve the artifact and destroy the creature that lurks in that hospital. Keep that amulet with you always, it will protect you in more ways than one."

"Can you offer no other advice, Maester?" Aelira asked, her voice shaking slightly.

"Only this: your fear will be your demise, but hubris will be your undoing. You must find the balance of accepting your fear without giving in to it. Only then can your task be fulfilled."

Aelira nodded, clasping the monk's hands in her own. She stood, bowed to him, and made her way back up the gravel path toward the gates. She had to figure out how to get the best of her fear before it defeated her, and she only had a short time to do it.