Despite the pallor of dawn on the threshold of "Iphis," the colors of the royal palace gleamed. The marble stones that covered its white walls still retained the moisture of the night, and the statues adorning its gates were topped with droplets of dew, almost resembling tears running down the faces of forgotten gods.
Aldar's body screamed with exhaustion. His journey from the temple to the capital hadn't stopped for a moment no rest, not a single hour of sleep. The air scorched his lungs with every breath, and the cold had numbed his fingers, yet his heart blazed within him like an ember that hadn't extinguished since he saw those words etched upon the stone.
"Your name, sir?" asked the guard, who hadn't expected to see a man in ancient priestly garments panting at the palace gate.
Aldar raised his trembling hand.
"Aldar… High Priest of the Temple of Tofana."
His voice was wounded, as if every word was carried on his back.
