Sometime later, Wilran awoke to find herself still in the room, the candles long extinguished. Only faint slivers of light crept through the frost-touched glass, barely enough to discern the world around her. Not that she needed much light—her eyes, sharp in the dark, easily adjusted, a divine gift of her heritage. She glanced to her left and saw Gamma slumped awkwardly in the chair beside her bed. The woman's limbs were twisted in a futile attempt at comfort, snoring like two lumberjacks sawing through stubborn wood.

Suppressing a smile, Wilran shifted her gaze back to the window, drawn once more to the expanse of the night sky. The moon was absent. She figured it was too early for the sun's arrival, but the swirling colors she had seen before—the vibrant hues dancing on the snowbank—still flickered across the horizon. This time, she had the luxury to study them, uninterrupted.

Breathtaking.

She watched as small rays of light arced and curved across the sky, fluid and mesmerizing. Time seemed to stretch. The longer she observed, the more hypnotic the display became. Now more observant, she realized their were more than the colors of blue, green, or purple. Here and there, flickers of red and yellow wove themselves into the dance, bright pinpricks of brilliance against a velvety blackness.

She briefly entertained the idea that the lights were caused by some invisible wind, but quickly dismissed it. Wind stirred dust, carried the scent of earth; the lights were far more mysterious, intangible, beyond anything she could explain.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Wilran jolted, a sharp breath catching in her throat. "Oh!" she gasped, the world of light slipping away as she snapped back to her surroundings. She took a quick look in Gamma's direction, to confirm she was the one who spoke, and then shifted her eyes towards the door. The two of them sat in silence for a beat, waiting to see if anyone else in the house had stirred, but nothing answered but the quiet hum of the night and the wind blowing against the backdrop.

"Sorry about that," Gamma said, her voice soft, as she shifted to sit up properly, rubbing her eyes. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"It's alright," said Wilran as her heart calmed down. "Its beauty is unparalleled. I've never seen anything like it."

Gamma pushed herself to her feet, her joints cracking as she stretched her stiff limbs. Wilran winced in sympathy. Her heart ached sympathetically for the woman who had a servant's heart.

She cared so much for other people's needs; she doesn't even have a bed in her own home.

"I understand," Gamma said, lighting a candle on a small table. "I myself have spent many hours watching them. It's easy when the sun almost never comes up."

"Really?" Wilran asked, her curiosity piqued.

Gamma nodded, walking back to the window, her eyes distant. "Quite. Some people believe that's why the lights exist—to bring brightness where the sun refuses to shine."

And what do you believe?" Wilran asked, attempting to sit up. Without a word, Gamma moved to help her, hands gentle but firm. As their skin touched, Wilran felt the familiar aura return—a soft, elusive glow, this time a calming light blue, with her scars less prominent.

They're healing but why?

"I've been told it's a gift from the Gods," Gamma continued, moving back towards the chair.. "Like all life in our broken world, it's a reminder of their infinite power and love for the people of Sainta. But, as with any divine gift, it must be earned. That's why it's up here in the north—only those willing to make the journey can fully appreciate its beauty."

Wilran thought the idea had merit. Now that it was said out loud, it reminded her of the way magic would work itself out through the somatic movements in her spell casting. Absentmindedly, she began to gesture as if casting a familiar spell to mimic the swirling lights, but froze when she looked down at the stump of her arm. Anger surged inside her.

"Would a loving goddess really do this?" Her voice cracked with raw emotion.

Gamma hesitated, clearly weighing her words. "I can't pretend to know the will of your goddess. But I've learned that sometimes, even bad things can lead to good outcomes. Still..." She paused. "From what I've heard of Lilith, it's hard to imagine her reasons being kind ones."

Wilran recalled Gamma's harsh words from the day before, now understanding more clearly why the woman disapproved. Part of her wanted to agree, but after completions of devotion, she still felt compelled to defend Lilith.

"You don't understand," she said. "The goddess saved me. Without Her, I would've died on the streets."

With that, she began to tell Gamma her story—the tragic loss of her parents, her discovery of Lilith, and lessons she learned under the Teacher back in Clayborn. As she spoke, her throat grew sore, and her eyes stung with the weight of old memories. Still, Gamma listened, her patience unwavering, so much so Wilran started to consider the woman a saint.

After a long pause, Gamma finally spoke. "I suppose either Lilith is truly all-loving and has a plan for you..."

Wilran braced herself. Here it comes.

"...Or good things happen for bad reasons."

Wilran nodded slowly, feeling the weight of Gamma's words. "What do you think?" she asked quietly.

Gamma exhaled deeply, sinking into the chair. The gesture seemed uncharacteristic for the woman Wilran barely knew, but she appreciated the vulnerability it showed.

"I too have been hurt by my Goddess," Gamma admitted, her voice soft against the stillness of the room. "And I'm not sure it was for good reasons."

"I'm sorry," Wilran whispered, unsure if it was meant as a statement or a question. It wasn't what she expected, and she found herself at a loss for words.

Gamma offered a small, bittersweet smile before continuing. "A few completions ago, I was happy. At the time I served as the High Priestess's personal servant and, if I may be bold, her close confidant. It wasn't always easy—she could be difficult at times, as she was quite green when she ascended to the role. But I never minded. I knew what I was getting into, and I felt it was my duty to serve her."

Gamma paused, allowing the words to sink in. "Over time, those challenges faded. The Priestess, for all her inexperience, embraced her role with the love and grace of the Goddess herself. Any doubts I had were gone after those first months, especially when she tended to the wounded after a skirmish with hobgoblins and shared the blessings of Goddess on our first missionary trip to Pearlview."

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

She glanced at the door as though expecting someone to interrupt before continuing, her voice dropping slightly. "Then came the meetings with the prophetess."

Wilran noticed the shift in Gamma's tone, the drop in pitch making it clear this was the turning point in her story. "It was an honor few ever received," Gamma went on. "I remember the first meeting like it was yesterday. The Priestess was a wreck, nervous beyond belief. I tried to comfort her, but she treated the whole thing as if her entire future was on trial. I was nervous too—after all, the prophetess had the power to appoint or remove any priest or priestess in the Wildehaven pantheon. But as it turned out, neither of us had anything to worry about. After the meeting, we laughed and gossiped like younglings walking home from school, relieved that the prophetess had offered her personal training."

A wistful smile briefly crossed Gamma's face, and for a moment, Wilran thought she caught the faintest sound of a chuckle. But then the smile faded.

"The happiness didn't last long," Gamma said, her voice somber again. "As the meetings continued, the Priestess changed. She became quieter, more distant. The joy drained from her, and eventually, from me as well. I did my best to serve her, but something was wrong, and I was being shut out. I tried to be subtle, to offer help without overstepping, but... my frustration grew. Eventually, I confronted her—right in the middle of the first level streets of Goldale."

Wilran offered a faint smile, understanding the courage that must have taken. "That couldn't have been easy."

"No," Gamma whispered. "It wasn't. She didn't take it well. Instead of arguing, she ordered me to return home. Even paid a ship captain to take me. I obeyed, but I was angry. Too angry. After some time, I decided I couldn't let it go. I packed my things and headed back to the city, determined to demand the truth. But on the way, while searching for my hymnal... I found her diary instead."

Wilran's eyes widened. It wasn't hard to see where the Youngling of the Plains was going.

"You didn't..."

"I did." Gamma's voice was laced with regret as she looked down. "In my anger, I gave in to my iniquity. There's no excuse for it. But what I read..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "It changed everything. My anger vanished, leaving fear in its wake. Instead of pushing forward, I decided to find Ms. Thepa."

"Why the captain?"

Gamma looked back up as if the meaning should have been obvious. "Wouldn't you want to know if your best friend was going to die? For some unknown reason, the High Priestess was going to offer herself as a sacrifice."

Wilran's heart skipped a beat. "Wait—Rory was the High Priestess you served?"

Gamma nodded, her voice trembling slightly. "Yes. I showed Ms. Thepa the diary, and she was just as alarmed. We made a plan to confront Rory at the first opportunity, to stop her before she did something irreversible. But..." She hesitated, her voice catching in her throat.

"But what?" Wilran asked, though a deep part of her regretted pushing for more.

Gamma's face twisted in pain, her emotional scars laying bare as the color of her aura darkened, a black hue mingling with flickers of hurt. Wilran didn't know why she could see the woman they way she was seeing her, but it hurt her deeply to witness Gamma unraveling before her.

"Rory used the Goddess against me," Gamma whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of the memory. "She summoned the divine power of the mask... and subjugated me. With a single command, she banished me from her presence. I was... nothing to her in that moment. Like a wounded animal, I fled the city, not knowing where I was headed—just... away. Eventually, I found this cabin, abandoned long ago. It felt like the perfect place, because it mirrored my heart—broken, cold, and empty."

Wilran held her breath, feeling the chill of Gamma's words.

"Days blurred into weeks, then months, all of them passing by me like the wind cutting around the mountain. Time lost its meaning. Every day became a bitter reminder of what had happened. I tried to forget, to distract myself with chores, but every night it would come back. As I lay in bed, staring at the shadows on the ceiling, the pain in my chest would return, gnawing at me. And when the frustration became too much, I would scream—rage pouring out of me—followed by an endless stream of tears."

Gamma's voice quivered, and Wilran could see the rawness of the memory in her eyes. "I thought, maybe, after a few months, the pain might fade. Maybe I could move through it. But instead, I lost control. One night, it became too much... It was then I made the decision... to end it."

Wilran gasped softly, her heart clenching at the admission. For a woman of faith to fall into such despair... the depth of Gamma's suffering was unimaginable. To be alone, to have no one in that moment of utter hopelessness—it was a miracle she had survived at all.

"So... what happened?" Wilran asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Gamma rolled up the sleeve of her robe, revealing a jagged scar along her wrist. "I followed through. I took my knife and, with one swift motion, I cut deep." She traced the scar with her fingers, her voice hollow. "As the blood spilled and I started to lose consciousness, I heard her voice—the Goddess. She told me she wasn't ready for me. Not yet. Not like this."

She paused, glancing at the door, her expression unreadable. "You can come in now. I know you're there."

Wilran blinked, confused by the sudden shift, but as the door creaked open and Bidant stepped in, looking sheepish, understanding slowly dawned. Gamma didn't seem surprised. She reached out, taking Bidant's hand—the same hand she had once cut—and held it gently as she continued.

"The next thing I remember, my wrist was bandaged, and Bidant was standing over me, holding an empty healing potion."

"I couldn't let you die like that," Bidant said softly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. "It wasn't your fault."

Gamma squeezed his hand, her gratitude clear in her eyes. "You saved my life that day, in more ways than one. I owe you everything."

Wilran watched the exchange, feeling a deep pang of emotion. The connection between them was undeniable, and yet... something still didn't quite make sense.

"I'm glad Bidant found you when he did," she said, her brow furrowing. "But how? Did he just stumble upon your cabin?"

"Delphi," Bidant answered.

Wilran's eyes once more checked the door as if the mention of the prophetess's name would summon her from the shadows. When no one appeared, she gave Bidant a questioning look, silently urging him to explain.

"Delphi?" she repeated.

Bidant nodded. "After Rory was left behind in the cave, Elite Team Zero started to unravel. Thepa tried to keep things together, but it was obvious she was struggling. Then Claudia went missing. The nation's leaders saw it as an opportunity to gather intelligence while the next team trained. So, I was sent back to the Order. After a while, I was summoned by Prince Elaneiros... and he introduced me to the prophetess."

Wilran smiled at the mention of the prince, recalling her own experience. "He seems to have a knack for that."

Bidant gave a brief nod, though his expression suggested he didn't quite follow her. "Yes, well, I found the whole thing odd. I wasn't accustomed to taking orders from a youngling, but the prince assured me that what the prophetess had to say was important—it involved saving a life."

He paused, hesitating, then glanced at Wilran with an expression that bordered on sheepishness, as if confessing to something unexpected. "Your life."

Both Wilran and Gamma blinked in shock. "What?" they exclaimed in unison.

Bidant's face flushed with embarrassment. He turned to Gamma, his voice quieter now. "I was told to find you because you would need my help to save Wilran. The prophetess didn't give me the when, only the where. I didn't know the details, but the prince made it clear—it was crucial to the war effort. So, I set off. But when I found you... I didn't expect to find you like that. I also didn't expect to..."

"To what?" Gamma whispered, her voice fragile.

Bidant trailed off and suddenly Wilran got really uncomfortable. She watched as Gamma's eyes widened and held his gaze as the two of them looked longingly into each other's eyes. Neither one spoke, but the tension was slowly breaking towards what Wilran knew to be an intimate moment. Unfortunately, she was trapped with nowhere to go. She tried to shift discreetly, hoping to escape their growing closeness, but the bed creaked under her movement, startling them both.

Gamma and Bidant's eyes flickered toward her, and Wilran felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment.

"Breakfast?" Bidant offered, his voice a little too hopeful.

Wilran winced internally, sensing that she had shattered something fragile. Gamma nodded, though Wilran noticed the faint flicker of disappointment in her eyes as Bidant let go of her hand.

The two of them quietly left the room, shutting the door behind them. Wilran could hear the clatter of pots and pans in the other room, and she mentally kicked herself. She had unintentionally ruined what she was sure had been a long time coming.