Now

The fire of the brazier flickered, shadows dancing back and forth across the surface of the altar room.

"Bless the moon! Bless the night sky!"

The chair was hard, carved from the same stone as the walls and the floor and the pillars. The incense was strong today. It was starting to give her a headache.

"Thank you! Thank you!"

The voices echoed through the room in a cacophony that blended so smoothly she couldn't tell them apart. At this point, the prayers and pleads and blessings were all indistinguishable from one another, each voice an echo of the sentiments of the one before it.

In the beginning, she'd tried to listen to each of them. To hear them, internalize their prayers, and try her best to answer them. These people left their hopes and fears placed at her feet beside their offerings of bundles of dried flowers and scraps of paper and chips of stone and crystal. She couldn't imagine having apathy towards them.

"Please! Daughter of Shadows! My family...."

The smoke was too strong, it was starting to make her dizzy. What was the scent today? White musk. Ah, she hated the scent of white musk. She closed her eyes, letting out a slow breath. Steady breathing, in and out. Listen carefully, find her heartbeat, like she'd been taught all those years ago. Find the pitch of the wind, call it forward and have it carry the incense away.

A light breeze moved through the temple. The Candles danced excitedly, the shadows laughing against the walls. Her head started to hurt a little less.

How long had she been sitting in that chair? How much time had passed?

Whenever she wasn't in the Sun Palace, hours seemed to just... slip past her. Inside those gilded walls, it felt like time crept by, minute by minute, second by second, a small breath after each word she spoke spent anticipating disastrous results. But outside of that shadowless room, it felt like time melted and flowed out the windows with the smoke of the incense. Was it the spark of divinity that caused time to flow like that? Or was she that relieved to be away from Him.

A soft hand found her shoulder, breath warm against her ear as a gentle voice spoke to her.

"The incense has burnt out."

Finished for today.

She nodded, slowly standing. As she did, the crowd of worshipers at her feet erupted. Hands reached for her, but several men and women dressed in black robes made their way in front of her to stop them. She missed when the inner sanctum of the temple was only for priests and shadow women.

With careful steps she used her feet to push the piles of offerings away, wary not to step on any braided flowers or wooden sigils. She followed the priest who had spoken to her, around the chair, up the stairs, and behind the three towering vases filled with palm fronds where a small door was hidden from view. The priest opened the door, holding it for her, so she could enter before following behind her. As the door shut behind him, all the noise from the other room was snuffed. The only sound came from the jangling of the gold jewelry on her neck, wrists, and ankles.

Finally, silence.

The room was a comfortable den, secluded away from the rest of the temple. A space that was hers and only hers, a luxury she was afforded nowhere else in the world. Especially not in the Sun Palace.

Without thinking, she slipped down into a cushioned chair tucked in the corner. Lazily, she looked to the priest who now walked past her. He waved his hand causing the flames of the candles to burst to life, growing brighter and washing the room in a warm, cozy glow. The scent of inks and paper filled her nose, blocking out the scent of the ceremonial incense that still lingered. Her writings, her books.

"There were more than usual today," The Priest spoke, pouring a glass of wine from a pitcher in the corner of the room.

"I suppose it can't be helped," She said with a twinge of flippant exasperation, taking the cup from him. " It's been three months since he let me out of the Sun Palace, and he won't let me receive them alone while I'm there," She added with every ounce of annoyance she had to suppress outside these walls. The priest nodded along with her as she spoke, sitting down across from her.

"And he's insufferable to them when they do come to the sun palace, and I don't like how his priests move the offerings around when they're placed." With a small huff, She took a long drink. It was strong, the warmth comforting as it washed across her chest and softened the thoughts that swam in her head.

"I know."

She glanced at him, but his expression was hard to read. The shadows always covered the twisted flesh on the right side of his face, obscuring the remnants of a burn. The room was always kind to him when he was here, and she could only ever see half his face.

"Your mind isn't here, is it?" She asked, holding the half-emptied cup in her lap. He chuckled at her in response.

"No, I'm here," he said. "I was just thinking," He said.

"Thinking?" She asked, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned back in her seat. No reason to be poised here, not in her room, not in front of her priest.

"I'm thinking about how much you've grown, how strong you've become," He said, unable to hide the fondness in his otherwise respectful tone.

Her eyes turned down to the cup in her hand. She couldn't see much of her reflection in the cup, the soft curve of her face shape, the brown blur of her hair, but those molten gold eyes reflected at her crisp and clear. "No one gave me the chance to be anything else," She said, looking back at him.

"Don't take that away from yourself. You were chosen by the divine for a reason," He insisted, leaning forward and folding his hands together. He rested his elbows on his knees as he came closer to her, his fingers twisting uncomfortably for a moment before his eyes met hers. "Do you remember how it started, Nethira?" he asked, her name sweet on his tongue.

She cast her gaze to the ceiling, looking at the sigil engraved in the center. "How could I forget....?"