Beneath the curtain of night, in Hoskar City, Monica, kneeling in prayer before the statue of the Holy Lord within the Cathedral of the Church of Light, sensed an abnormal disturbance and slowly opened her eyes.
Candlelight flickered indoors, casting the Saintess's proud curves, hidden beneath her saintly vestments, across the stone tiles. Cool air seeped in through the crack of the door, laced with a trace of chill from the northern frostlands. Now and then, the evening wind slapped against the cathedral's stained-glass windows, producing a dull, heavy thud like some weight striking the wall.
The elemental particles in the air were restless, as if something were brewing. After a moment, Monica ceased her chanting. Her two white-silk legs, faintly indented by lace stockings, shifted from a folded kneeling posture to fully straightened. Only after blood flowed freely through her lower limbs did she step in silver, carved high heels toward the window.
