The night was alive with fury, the storm unleashing its wrath over Eldhaven. Rain lashed down against the cobbled streets in relentless torrents, soaking every corner of the ancient city.
Lightning clawed across the sky, illiminating jagged spires and casting fleeting shadows that danced with the flickering flames of wind-tossed lanterns.
Thunder roared in the distance, a deep guttural roar that mingled with the mournful toll of the church bells. each chime seemed to echo through the narrow alleyways, calling out like a warning-or perhaps a judgement.
Circe sprinted through the deserted streets, her breath becoming shallow gasps as her black robes trailed behind like a phantoms veil.
Her fingers clutched tightly around the cold metal of a small, star-shaped pendant, its surface pulsing faintly with a soft, silvery glow.
She dared not stop, not even to glance behind her.
The shadows felt alive, filled with unsen eyes and the threat of pursuit.
"She can't have gotten far! Find her!"
The voice rang out, cutting through the rain like a knife. It reverberated around her, bouncing off the towering walls and twisted with the storms chaos.
Circe's heart thundered in her chest, her legs burning as she pushed herself further into the maze of darkened alleys.
The pendant grew warm in her grasp, its light flickering like a pulse-hesitant but insistent.
Its magic was there, just out reach, teasing her, like a whisper lost in the wind. She tightened her grip and focused, desperate to summon the faintest spark of her power.
But the storm, the bells and the hunters closing in all clawed at her resolve, threatening to drown her in despair.
As exhaustion washed over her, Circe collapsed to the floor, a cold sweat trickled from her forehead.
"This way hurry!"
A hooded figure emegered from the storm's shadows, her silhoutte half-hidden by the mist curling through the alley.
Her voice was raspy, yet carried an undeniable authority- a sound that cut through the chaos like the toll of a distant bell. She gestured urgently, her long bony fingers beckoning Circe into the depths of the darkened passage.
Circe's instincts screamed to stay put, to keep her distance from the stranger. But would choice did she have? The heavy thrum of boots on cobblestones echoed too close behind her, and the threat of capture loomed larger with every heartbeat.
Whatever lay in the shadows ahead couldn't be worse than what awaited Circe is she stayed.
Wrapping her coat tighter around herself, Circe forced herself to move, slipping into the alley. The storm's wind howled past her, and the figures presence seemed to absorb the light around them.
As she drew closer, the faint glow of a single amulet beneath the womans' hood caught Circe's eye-a stone shimmered faintly with unnatural hues, like liquid starlight trapped in crystal.
"Who-" Circe began, but the woman silenced her a single raised hand. Her movements were deliberate, her stillness almost commanding reverence.
"Keep your voice low, child," the woman said softly, her words were laced with something ancient and knowing, as if she carried secrets that could rewrite the heavens themselves.
Circe hestitated for a moment, but the sound of shouts and the clatter of weapons drove her forward. The figure turned shaply, her hood dipping as she moved deeper into the twisting shadows.
For a moment, the wind caught her cloak, revealing strands of sliver hair glinting in the faint light. It wasn't just her voice-her very presence seemed to hum with an old, undeniable magic.
"Why...are...you...helping..me?" Circe gasped, her words broken between shallow breaths.
Her legs burned with each step, the relentless pace of the figure pulling her deeper into the shadows of the alley.
Rain soaked through her robes, and her mind swirled with questions she couldn't make sense of.
"I'm only helping you because the world still has use for you," the figure muttered, almost to herself, her words barely audible over the storm. "Don't make me regret it.
They sprinted through the rain-soaked alleys, the cold water splashing against Circe's legs as her heart pounded like a drum. The relentless echo of approaching footsteps grew louder and faster, spurring Circe to push through her exhaustion.
"They went that way, sir," a voice called out eagely from somewhere behind them, each word laced with determination and urgency.
"They're coming!" Circle sobbed, her voice trembling with panic as she clutched the pendant tightly against her chest.
Her breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, and her wide eyes darted toward the shadows closing in around them.
"Stay behind me, child!" the woman commanded, her tone sharp yet steady. Her voice held an unyielding power demanded obedience, and her outstretched arm blocked Circe's trembling frame as she stepped forward.
The hooded figure's gaze remained fixed on the mouth of the alley, unflinching despite the sound of heavy boots echoing on the cobblestones.
Moments later, figures emerged from the storm, armored knights encircled them with military precision. Their polished armor gleamed unnervingly in the flickering moonlight, each chestplate adorned with the umistakable crest of Celeste-a symbol of divine justice and unrelenting authority.
Circle stumbled back, her knees shaking as she took in the sheer number of soldiers. Their expressions hidden behind cold steel helmets, but their movements spoke volumes- calculatedm determined, merciless.
The woman's fingers tightened around the her staff now glowing faintly glowing in her grasp.
Sparks of magic pulsed at its emerald gem, as she held it to the sky, illuminating the storm-soaked alley with errie flashes of light.
"They would dare challange me, she muttered, her voice low but heavy with a quiet wrath that seemed to ripple through the air.
Circe's heart raced, her mind clouded by fear. She barely understood what was happening, but one truth was inescapable-escape was impossible. .
The figure raised the staff toward the mouth of the alley, her movements impossibly steady admist the chaos. Closing her eyes, she began to chant, her voice resonating with a eeire cadence that seemed to echo through the air itslef:
Lightning snaked its way down her staff, sending random jolts toward the knights.
Her eyes slowly opened, with cool confidence as she lowered her, poining it toward them.
"Oh, wrathful Goddess of Storms, send down your fury upon the unjust, that may know the weight of your power. Strike now-Lightning bolt!"
In an instant, a blinding bolt of lightning erupted from the staff, its energy cascading like a living serpent. The air vibrated with its fury as the bolt tore through the circle of guards, weaving seamlessly between them.
Each knight staggered as the lightning coursed through their armor, crackling and sparking as it passed. Their cries of pain were muffled by the roar of the storm, and the sharp clang of metal striking stone filled the alley as their weapons fell from trembling hands
Circe's breath hitched, her wide eyes fixed on the devastation before her. The knights collapsed one by one, their armor scorched and smoking as the magical energy dissipated into the night.
"What… what was that?" she stammered, her voice trembling as she clutched the pendant tighter.
The woman lowered her staff, its glow dimming slightly, and turned to glance at Circe with a calm yet piercing gaze.
"That child," she said, in a quiet, measured tone. "Is what happens when magic answers its master. Stay close- there will be more."
"I'm scared," Circle whispered, her voice muffled as she burried her face into the folds of the woman's rain-soaked robes.
Her small frame trembled, and her fingers clutched desperatly at the fabric.
"Why are they after me?"
The woman rested a steady hand, weathered hand on Circe's shoulder, her touch radiating a gentle warmth admist the cold chaos of the night.
Her eyes, though shadowed by her hood, glimmered with a quiet, unshakable strength. A soft smile played on her lips, one that carried both reassurance and a promise of protection.
"Now, now, child," she murmured, her voice a calm lull that seemed to rise above the storm.
"Don't you worry No harm will come to you while I stand. Let them try-I won't let these brutes so much as lay a finger on you."
The alley fell into an errie, unnatural silence. The storm that raged moments ago now seemed distant, its fury muted, as though the very air held its breath.
The woman knelt in front of Circe, her movements graceful despite her age. With a weathered hand, she wiped away the tears streaming down Circe's face, her touch surprisingly gentle admist the chaos.
"See?" the woman said softly, her voice steady and soothing, yet laced with quiet power. "Those cowards won't bother you anymore."
She rose with deliberate elegance, straightening her robes as the green gem atop her staff flickered faintly, casting a soft glow across the rain-slicked cobbestones. Her eyes swept the surroundings, her expression unfazed but with a confident grin that hinted at the mastery she had just displayed.
"Well, if there's nothing else," she said, her voice carrying the weight of an unspoken truth, "I'll be off now, child."
Before Circe could respond-before she could ask the questions racing through her mind-the woman tunred and disappeared into the shadows with impossible swiftness.
The alley to seemed to exhale, the dim light of lanterns flickering in her wake.
Circe stood frozen, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and awe.
She glanced down at her trembling hands, still stained with rain and the faint energy of the magic she had witnessed. The memory of what had just happened burned in her mind, leaving her both terrified and exhilarated.
Circe took a shaky breath, her fingers clutching the star-shaped pendant so tightly it left imprints on her skin.
The damp chill of night bit into her as she cautiously ventured into the moonlit streets, the shadows stretching like grasping hands along the cobblestones.
Her wide eyes darted frantically around her, searching for an escape route, for safety-anything. But thr oppressive silience was quickly shattered.
"There she is!"
The shout rang out from somewhere behind her, sharp and accusatory, freezing the blood in her veins.
Before she could react, two figures surged toward her. Young knights, their eyes gleaming with zealous purpose, rushed forward with alarming speed, their armor clanging ominously in the night.
Circe had time to gasp before a third figure emerged from the shadows behind them. The older man strode forward with commanding presence, his silver hair tied back in a long ponytail that gleamed in the moonlight.
Deep, jagged scars crisscrossed his face, giving him a fearsome, weathered appearance. His cold eyes locked onto her like a predator sizing up its prey.
"Hurry up and restrain her, men!" he barked, his voice dripping with authority and destain. "We don't want this vermin running loose in our streets!"
Circe stumbled back, her heart pounding wildy.
"No! Wait!" she cried, the words catching in throat as panic surged through her. But her pleas fell on deaf ears.
One of the younger knights seized her wrists with iron-like strength, forcing her trembling hands away from the pendant she had been clutching for dear life.
She squirmed and thrashed, trying in vain to break free, but he was too strong. With practiced efficiency the knight bound her hands with thick, rough ropes that bit into her skin.
"Please," she whimpered, her voice barely audible over own ragged breathing. Tears blurred her vision as glanced desperately at the older man, only to find no trace of mercy in his scarred face.
A filthy, sweat-soaked sack was yanked roughly over her head, the rancid fabrics pressing against her face amd muffling her gasps.
Bound and helpless, Circe stumbled as the young knights seized her arms and marched her forward, their heavy boots echoing ominously against the wet cobblestones.
The air was thick with the metallic tang of rain and the faint toll of distance bells, signalling their destination-the imposing chapel of Celeste.