Vale stared at the blindfolded woman in silence, his instincts screaming as his body moved before conscious thought could catch up.
He lowered himself into a battle-ready stance, feet spreading across the stone floor as his grip tightened around the haft of his spear. The weapon's bone-like surface was rough beneath his fingers, spiderwebbed with faint cracks. He bent lower, his muscles coiling, ready to spring.
'Is she the High Priestess?'
The woman did not move.
She stood at the center of the chamber, perfectly still, her posture relaxed yet unnervingly precise. She neither faced him nor turned away, she simply was, like a statue carved into reality itself.
Vale kept his eyes locked on her.
'Whoever she is… she mentioned a challenge.'
His jaw tightened. 'I'd rather face it with my blade.'
Slowly, carefully, he loosened one hand from his spear and reached toward the onyx blade at his waist. His gaze never left the woman. His breathing slowed, he took measured breaths, each movement was deliberate now.
His fingers brushed against where his blade was,
But he felt nothing.
Vale froze.
His hand closed reflexively where the hilt should have been. Empty air met his grasp. His heart lurched violently as he glanced down, just long enough to confirm what his mind refused to accept.
His waist belt was bare.
The onyx blade was gone.
A spike of panic shot through him. He snapped his attention back up and instinctively tightened his grip on the spear,
Only for that too to vanish.
The weight disappeared from his hands, leaving them clenched around nothing. Vale staggered back a step, eyes darting across the chamber as adrenaline surged hot through his veins.
Then the woman spoke.
"I believe there has been a misunderstanding."
Her voice was low and rich, smooth as flowing stone, and yet it carried absolute authority. The sound echoed unnaturally, as though the walls themselves bent to project her words. Vale felt the vibration of it deep in his chest.
His eyes widened.
"I will not be your opponent in this trial, child."
'Trial?'
Vale raised his hands instinctively, fists clenched, his body tense and ready despite the overwhelming disadvantage. His pulse thundered in his ears as he stared at her.
The woman tilted her head slightly, as if regarding him with curiosity.
"You must feel weak," she continued calmly, "without your weapons."
The torches lining the chamber flared in response, their flames surging higher and brighter as though answering her call. Heat washed over Vale's skin.
He took an involuntary step back.
Then, darkness came.
For a fraction of a second, the world vanished. No light. No sound. No sense of direction. Nothing.
And when his vision returned,
She was gone.
Vale spun sharply, his breath hitching as he scanned the chamber.
"Where did she go?" he muttered, his teeth clenched.
His mind raced, instincts searching desperately for anything, a sound, a shift in air, a presence.
Then a voice whispered behind him.
"Allow me to return what is yours."
Vale jumped, whirling around, his heart pounding violently in his chest.
She stood directly behind him.
In her right hand, held out with ceremonial calm, was his onyx blade, angled downward as if freshly drawn from stone itself. In her left hand dangled his spear, hanging loosely, treated with the casual indifference one might show a child's toy.
Vale sucked in a sharp breath.
He hadn't sensed her, not even a trace. No warning, no instinct, nothing. The realization hit harder than any visible threat, cutting straight through his focus and leaving a hollow edge of uncertainty in its wake.
'Who is this woman?' The question formed instinctively, but before he could give it voice,
"Are you afraid, Vale?"
Vale dropped his stance again, lower this time, fists tightening as his body braced for something he couldn't define.
"You… know me?" he asked cautiously. He already understood the imbalance, knew it, in a way that made resistance feel almost symbolic. At best, he might land a single desperate strike before being erased. And yet, the fear he expected didn't settle the way it should. It shifted, sharpened, becoming something closer to wary curiosity.
The blindfolded woman smiled, soft and composed. "Of course," she replied. "I know everyone."
Vale swallowed, some of the pressure in his chest easing, not from comfort, but from the simple fact that she was speaking instead of attacking.
"Then who are you?" he asked, his voice tight and his eyes tracking even the smallest shift in her posture.
Then,
She vanished.
His weapons dropped from empty air, clattering uselessly against the stone.
Before he could react, a hand settled on his shoulder.
Cold, unnaturally cold.
His entire body locked. Muscles seized, breath caught, and even the smallest movement became impossible as the hand slid upward, fingers brushing along his neck. Panic surged instantly, sharp and suffocating, his vision trembling as he tried, and failed, to move, to speak, to do anything at all.
A whisper brushed against his ear.
"Who am I?"
His eyes darted wildly, searching for something, anything, but finding nothing.
'What is this? What's happening?' His body trembled under the invisible restraint, every instinct screaming against it.
Then the whisper returned, quieter this time.
"I am the priestess, of course."
The moment the words settled, the paralysis shattered.
Vale moved on pure instinct, twisting sharply and driving his fist forward with everything he had, fear, anger, survival, all condensed into a single strike.
It stopped an inch from her face.
Invisible force coiled around him, rigid and absolute, holding him in place.
"Oh, Vale," the priestess said gently, almost kindly. "No strike can touch me here."
She smiled.
The world snapped.
An unseen force slammed into him, hurling him across the chamber. His body struck the wall with bone-rattling force, the air ripped violently from his lungs as he was pinned in place, arms spread, legs locked, pressure crushing down on every limb while something tightened around his throat.
He gasped, choking, his vision blurring at the edges as panic surged again, sharper this time. The chamber loomed around him, silent, vast, oppressive, while she stood where she had always been, untouched.
Watching.
Slowly, she approached.
With a slight motion of her hand, barely more than intent, the force vanished. Vale dropped instantly, collapsing forward onto his knees as air rushed back into his lungs in harsh, burning gulps. He clutched his throat, coughing hard as his body struggled to recover.
She stopped in front of him and lowered herself with measured grace until they were level. Her robes pooled across the stone like liquid shadow, spreading outward in unnatural stillness. Calm, composed, entirely unbothered, she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, her blindfolded gaze fixed on him with unsettling precision.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Vale's breathing steadied gradually, though his chest still ached and his limbs trembled faintly from the lingering shock. When he finally looked up, the silence between them felt deliberate, constructed.
Then she broke it.
"I apologize, young Vale."
Her voice softened, carrying a tone that almost resembled sincerity. She extended a hand toward him, her palm open in quiet invitation. Vale hesitated, his eyes fixated on it, distrust tightening his expression. After what had just happened, the gesture felt… incongruous.
"I did not intend to intimidate you so severely," she continued. "But I could not help myself."
Vale exhaled slowly, then reached out, accepting her hand. Her grip was cool, steady, grounding in a way that didn't match the power she had just displayed. She pulled him to his feet with effortless ease.
As he straightened, she smiled again, warm and composed.
Instinctively, Vale stepped back. His hand dropped toward his waist, fingers curling around the hilt of his onyx blade, then he paused.
It was there.
Solid. Familiar.
His eyes widened slightly as he glanced down, then turned quickly toward where his weapons had fallen moments before.
Nothing.
Only bare stone remained.
Understanding settled in, slow but certain. Absolute control. Not over him, but over the space itself.
When he turned back, she was already smiling, as if she had followed the thought.
"I imagine you are confused," she said gently.
Vale nodded once. "Yeah."
She tilted her head, considering him briefly. "To enter this temple, one must attempt a trial," she explained. "Success or failure is irrelevant. What matters is the attempt. It is… mandatory."
Vale frowned faintly. Drago had not mentioned this when he spoke of the temple. The omission stood out sharply, but instead of frustration, something else took hold.
Curiosity.
Focused and persistent.
He held her gaze, then asked simply,
"Why?"