Drazul stared a moment before realizing that the Bishop was present in the hall, speaking with some of the low-born who have come for advice or words of prayer. She stared at them all, hard and long, a question eating at her as her thoughts wandered. She already studied the scripture of Tuldar and how it connects to this land centuries ago. None of it, however, was enlightening in the slightest. Perhaps there is new information, although she assumes it wouldn't be accurate as scripture is always changing. She approached the Bishop, who had finished with his final visitor.

The Bishop saw them both and paused, seemingly looking her up and down, curious. Whisper thought he was an old man, like most priests, but definitely the oldest one here. His eyebrows were long and bushy, hiding his eyes while his mustache and long beard covered the remainder of his face with nothing but his lower lip protruding. He cleared his throat before speaking, gently approaching with the help of his cane,

"Why, hello dear guests. It seems you are here for another purpose than just mere comforting words."

Drazul arched a brow but humored him,

"Indeed."

The Bishop nodded, turning his body towards his left where a chamber door stood. He motioned for them to follow while motioning for his associates to remain. They followed him into the chamber, revealing a large room that contained a center fountain and various plants. It was a greenroom, perhaps the church's garden where they grow their herbs and medicine. The plants were seeded into tiered stone trenches lining up the walls on either side, while the end of the room and the roofing were all clear glass. A partial glass door stood at the opposite glass end, beside a table set with four chairs. They were small but meant for leisure. He walked towards the chair nearest the door while offering Drazul and Whisper the others opposite of him, closest to the plants.

They took their seats while watching the Bishop slowly sit into his own. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of the birds chirping outside and the splashing of the center fountain. The old man let out a small cough before breaking the silence,

"It seems you are...an odd child."

Whisper cocked her head. Drazul found the little old man humorous,

"I do not believe that is all you mean to say. In what way is my child odd?"

The old man paused a moment, absently pawing his beard before responding,

"The child exudes divine light in mine eyes." He turns from Drazul to Whisper, "In all my years, I have never witnessed a child like you."

Whisper moved her attention to the birds flying behind the old man, watching them fly about, letting the man's words hang in the air. She then returned the Bishop's gaze, nervous, before looking to Drazul, shrugging. Drazul smiled, as if she heard a joke,

"I came here to hear the Tuldar's Prophecy. I heard it once before, but my memory alludes me."

The Bishop's eyebrows rose, and he chuckled cutely in a way only a little old man could chuckle,

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Bishop Ormand. May I ask for your names?"

Drazul's smile faded, leaning back into her chair, her back straight and her chin high,

"There is no need to know mine nor my ward's, Bishop Ormand. We are merely passing through, and will only be here a short while."

Whisper nodded in agreement. The Bishop stared at them both but understood her words. He chuckled again,

"Let us see. You wish to hear the Tuldarian Prophecy..."

He began to fidget with his beard, collecting his thoughts,

A day will come when the soul of the world will begin to wane,

Fate will tangle and intertwine with mine,

You must wait for my child in a mane of white,

Quiet, eye burning, and full of heart,

They will guide my champions and end this blight,

But one champion cannot escape their fate,

If they refuse their fate once at my gate,

They will curse their companions and Tulasquss,

Only to fall and dissipate.

The room fell silent. The sound of chirping birds flying outside cut the air between every few seconds that passed. Drazul crossed her legs, resting her arms on her knee, lost in thought. Whisper was wide-eyed. Didn't he just describe her?

The Bishop held onto his cane, rubbing it's head,

"It seems you have much to mull over, champion."

Drazul's eyes shot up and glared at the priest. The Bishop chuckled again,

"I'm no fool, dear champion. This is an old prophecy, the only one remaining that we have received during our time on Tulasquss. We always believed this was more a message to Tuldar's champions than to his followers. I hope you are prepared."

Drazul sat up straight, leaning her chin into her hand, her thoughts a mess. Her expression was serious as she thought carefully about the prophecy. She doesn't know what to make of it. The Bishop was correct; in fact, this particular prophecy is considered ancient to humans. It is as old as she is. She heard it previously when her initial search began 500 centuries ago, but believed it to be fake like many others of its time. She's not sure if it is to be true, but she cannot help but feel that the scripture describes Whisper. She looked to Whisper and saw her expression, noticing that Whisper also believed the same. Whisper looked to her, her hands slowly making out her words,

"It's me, ain't it?"

Drazul's eyes scrunched in confusion, signing back, keeping silent,

"I...do not know."

Whisper stood abruptly, frustrated, signing furiously,

"There is no way it ain't me! Isn't this what ya've been searchin' for? Waitin' for, even?"

Drazul also stood up,

"Yes, but I didn't anticipate this. I am...unsure. I will not assume."

Whisper returned her confused expression,

"What for? Why? That don't make any sense."

Drazul pressed her temple before continuing,

"You won't understand. It is something I cannot convey so easily. This is not what I envisioned."

Drazul never imagined that her brush with another divinity would be only words. She imagined much more than just a prophecy claiming such nonsense. However, she'd be a fool not to understand her position, and Whisper's, in all of this. She was never going to meet another God face to face. Perhaps she is the only one among them to preside among mortals. Not only this, but if she accepts this prophecy to be true, she would be acknowledging Tuldar as a fellow God, one that exists. Her thoughts and feelings are a mess as she tried to understand it all.

Whisper watched Drazul struggle internally. While Whisper is much younger compared to her, Whisper is doing her best to understand what Drazul must be feeling. Shouldn't Drazul be happy? She once said that she didn't care what God revealed themselves so long as she was not alone. However, Whisper thinks it's more than that. Perhaps she was expecting her witch God? Hoping, even, that if there was another God to exist, it would be one a witch loves? Whisper looked down at her feet, then at the Bishop.

The Bishop watched them during their silent exchange, curious. He combed through his beard with one hand, patiently waiting for them to finish speaking before they came to a halt. He noticed the child watching him and returned a small smile that curled under his beard. He raised his eyebrows, revealing his dark eyes,

"It must be daunting to understand the meaning of the prophecy for ones so young." The Bishop slowly stood up and approached Drazul, his tiny frame paling in comparison as he leaned into his cane, "Know this, young maiden. You may not understand what the prophecy entails in its entirety, but now you have an inkling. I shall bestow a print of the scripture onto you as well as a parting symbol we prepared once the child and champions revealed themselves. Wait here; I shall return shortly."

With a smile, the Bishop began to walk back towards the chamber door. Whisper looked to Drazul who looked...torn as she watched the Bishop walk away. Whisper stepped towards her and took her hand. Drazul snapped her head back to look at her, her face contorted with several emotions. Whisper let go, signing,

"It'll all be Jake, Drazul. We're together now. I dunno if this is all true, but we can't be hinky 'bout it. I know it was quick an' all but we can't toss it now."

Drazul closed her eyes feeling defeated.

'Tuldar...' Her mind wondered. A God she had been cursing for centuries is now biting her in the arse, 'Wonderful.' She groaned internally. She doesn't fully accept this quite yet, but perhaps if this prophecy is to be a true warning, she shall wait to witness more of it before jumping to conclusions. She must analyze it while they make their way for the Green Circle. She turned to Whisper, who only had a face of concern. She firmly grasped her shoulder in assurance,

"I do not know what to make of this now, but we shall see, will we not?" Whisper nodded unsure what to make of Drazul's confusion but agreed. She understands Drazul's need for caution and skepticism, but Whisper can't help but feel differently. If she wasn't described so well, perhaps she would side with Drazul more, but perhaps that is why Drazul is having trouble accepting it. Searching for 500 centuries for any clue would make anyone skeptical. Whisper sat down and tugged on Drazul's cloak for her to join her. Drazul stood a moment before conceding as they patiently waited for the Bishop.

Several minutes passed as they waited. While they were waiting longer than anticipated, It did not bother Drazul as it allowed her to continue to ponder while Whisper began to walk around and peek at all the plants that surrounded them. When the Bishop finally arrived, he returned with a single acolyte who carried an ornate box. Drazul and Whisper made their way to meet them halfway, waiting. The Bishop took the box from the acolyte and presented it to Drazul,

"This contains our parting gifts. If you are ever to visit any of our Tuldarian churches or even the Kingdoms of Tulasquss, this will serve as your identity. Tulasquss is bound to honor you and ensure your safety and success. When you come across the other champions, present them with the remaining symbols. Please do not hesitate to enforce your status."

Drazul took the ornate box from the Bishops hands, admiring its craftsmanship. Somehow, it seems familiar. She gingerly opened the box to find a scroll, one necklace, and four rings. They were all crafted using the finest metal known in Tulasquss: Sryllion, a beautiful silver that shone brighter than any metal and sparkled more than any jewel. Drazul looked to the Bishop, who nodded as he explained,

"The necklace is for the child, while the rings are for yourself and your companions. We do not know the number of companions to expect, but we hope this much will suffice. Of course, please return to us if the number exceeds that of the rings in this box."

Whisper gently pulled Drazul's arm down so that she may peek into the box. Drazul lowered the box for Whisper as she watched Whisper's eyes sparkle. Whisper reached for the necklace, admiring its design. It was quite intricate, revealing a beautifully designed lantern in curls and vines, portraying a bright flame at its center whose light spread outward. She removed her hood to put it on, not being able to contain her smile from such a lovely gift, signing her thanks,

"Thanks! What a beauty, ain't it?"

The Bishop's eyebrows were raised, revealing his eyes once more; only they were twinkling faintly as they watched Whisper admire her necklace. The necklace suited Whisper, more so the Sryllion did, as it sparkled just as her hair did.

Drazul turned her attention from Whisper to the box, inspecting the rings. Of all the rings, there was one that was beautiful, bigger, and more intricately designed. Drazul picked it up to look more closely. It was a ring meant to grip one's finger. At the base of the ring was a beautiful tree whose branches stretched upward and around the finger in wonderful curls as it encased a small jewel, which appeared to be a deep-crimson ruby diamond, meant to be the sun. Holding up this sun while floating at the base of said tree appeared to be a woman. She tried it on her left hand's ring finger, the ring ending at a point just before it reached her fingernail. It bent at the joints, the small jewel staying centered, the design still keeping its beautiful tale within form.

Drazul turned towards the Bishop, but before she could inquire, the Bishop spoke,

"This ring is meant for the first champion. I daresay, it suits it's wearer quite remarkably well."

Drazul's brows furrowed, her expression growing pained,

"Who was the one to craft these gifts?"

The Bishop stroked his beard a few moments before finally answering,

"These were crafted by the renowned artist of Tulasquss, Mildred Trisca. It was quite a time ago."

Drazul froze but quickly recovered before keeping the ring on her finger and closing the ornate box. Whisper's eyes widened at the second name. She turned to Drazul, whose mood shifted. Drazul reached for Whisper's shoulder, squeezing hard,

"Thank you for this gift. We should move on as we have much to attend to."

The Bishop nodded and escorted them out of the greenhouse, leaving them on the side of the cathedral. As soon as the Bishop and acolyte left after more parting words, Drazul grabbed Whisper by the waist and began flying at an insanely high speed towards a tear she opened not too far away. Whisper held onto Drazul for dear life, taken aback by the sudden flight. Once they made it through, they were back in their living room. Drazul released her and said nothing before walking briskly up the stairs and into her room. Whisper's face felt prickly from the air that whipped past them during the flight. She rubbed her cheeks as she took a seat on the sofa, processing everything that transpired.