The temple of Adiram stood at the edge of the forest where nobody dared to go to, an abandoned structure built of black stone that drank the light of torches instead of reflecting it. Its walls rose sheer, unadorned by carvings, only broken by a single arched door banded in iron. Few entered after nightfall, for it was said the temple came alive when the stars were veiled, whispers in the dark, chants from unseen mouths, shadows that shifted without source.
But Seren did not fear it. She knew she had to walk dark paths if she wanted what should have been hers.
Her cloak rustled as she approached, Layal close at her side. The maid's hand brushed hers briefly in the darkness, a touch that was both reassurance and claim. The bond between them was secret, hidden from every eye but their own, yet fierce enough to burn through secrecy itself.
