Before the sun ever reached the white towers of Eryndor, Lydia was already awake.
The lower districts of the city stirred long before the palace did. Bakers lit their ovens while the sky was still gray, fishermen hauled carts of fresh catch toward the markets, and the narrow streets slowly filled with the sounds of daily survival.
Lydia moved quietly through those same streets every morning.
Her cloak was simple and worn, pulled loosely around her shoulders to shield her from the chill that lingered before sunrise. The stone road beneath her feet was uneven, familiar. She had walked this path almost every day for years.
It led from the lower city to the eastern hill.
To the temple.
A baker outside his shop was lifting trays of bread from a clay oven when he spotted her approaching.
"Morning, Lydia," he called warmly.
She smiled gently.
"Good morning, Tomas."
The baker wiped flour from his hands and leaned against his doorway.
"You're early again."
"I always am."
He chuckled.
"Temple life must be exhausting."
"Only if you're late," she replied lightly.
The man shook his head with a grin.
"You're the only person I know who enjoys scrubbing marble before the sun rises."
Lydia laughed softly.
"It's peaceful in the mornings."
Tomas studied her for a moment.
Even after all these years, people in the district still paused when they saw her. Her beauty never seemed ordinary to them, no matter how often they passed her in the street.
"Careful walking alone this early," he said.
"I will."
"Beasts have been spotted near the western farms again."
"I heard."
"Knights took care of it though."
Lydia nodded.
"They always do."
The baker watched her continue down the street, shaking his head slightly.
"Strange young girl," he muttered to himself.
But he said it fondly.
Myra's Temple was silent when Lydia arrived.
The massive white doors stood partially open, allowing the early morning wind to slip inside. The silver chimes hanging from the archways sang softly with each passing breeze.
Lydia stepped inside and closed the doors gently behind her.
The temple always felt different before the other attendants arrived.
Quieter.
Sacred in a way that the daytime bustle sometimes interrupted.
She set down her basket of supplies near the altar and began her routine.
First came the braziers.
She moved from one to the next, replacing the incense sticks and lighting the coals carefully until thin ribbons of fragrant smoke curled upward.
Then came the floors.
Lydia knelt with a cloth and basin, wiping away the faint dust that gathered overnight along the marble walkways.
She worked slowly, methodically.
By the time the sunlight began filtering through the temple windows, the entire hall gleamed.
Footsteps echoed from the corridor behind her.
Another servant entered carrying a bundle of folded cloth.
"Lydia."
Lydia turned with a smile.
"Good morning, Syra."
Sera was younger than her by several years, though she carried herself with the energy of someone determined to prove she belonged in the temple.
"You started without us again," Sera said.
"I couldn't sleep. I'm sorry."
"You never sleep."
"Yes, I do."
"Barely."
Sera set the cloths down and looked around the hall.
"You polished the statue already?"
"Yes. It's the first thing the princess checks everytime she come in."
"You're making the rest of us look lazy."
Lydia laughed quietly.
"That isn't my intention."
Sera studied her for a moment before sighing.
"You know the princess is coming today."
"I know."
"You don't seem nervous."
"Why would I be?"
Sera gave her a look.
"Because she hates when people talk about you."
Lydia paused slightly.
"They talk about many things."
"Yes," Sera said bluntly. "But they talk about your face."
Lydia returned to wiping the marble.
"I can't control what people say."
"No," Sera agreed. "But it still bothers her."
Lydia didn't answer.
Because she knew it was true.
By midday Lydia had finished her temple duties.
Unlike the other attendants, she often left the temple briefly to help in the lower districts where she had grown up.
The temple allowed it.
Mostly because Lydia had insisted.
The eastern market was alive with noise when she arrived. Merchants shouted prices while children ran between stalls chasing each other with sticks and bits of cloth.
A small pottery stand sat near the corner of the market.
An older woman struggled to lift a crate of clay bowls onto the table.
Lydia walked over quickly.
"Let me help."
The woman looked up and smiled immediately.
"Lydia!"
Together they lifted the crate onto the stall.
"You shouldn't be carrying that alone," Lydia said gently.
"Someone has to."
"Where's your son?"
"Out hunting with the patrols."
Lydia frowned slightly.
"The knights?"
"Yes."
"He left three days ago."
"Has he returned?"
"Not yet."
The woman sighed but forced a smile.
"He's a good fighter."
Lydia placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sure he'll return safely."
The woman nodded slowly.
"Thank you, child."
As Lydia began arranging the pottery bowls along the table, several young men from nearby stalls pretended to browse the market while glancing her way.
One of them finally worked up the courage to approach.
"Good afternoon, Lydia."
She looked up with a polite smile.
"Hello, Darien."
The young man rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
"I was wondering… would you like to walk by the river later?"
Lydia shook her head gently.
"I'm sorry."
"Temple duties?"
"Yes."
Darien sighed dramatically.
"Can't you just take an hour to yourself, at least?"
Lydia smiles slightly then shakes her head.
"I can't. The princess would'nt be very happy about me taking unauthorized breaks."
"One day you'll say yes."
Lydia smiled kindly.
"Perhaps."
He grinned before returning to his stall.
The older woman beside her chuckled.
"That's the fourth boy this week."
Lydia sighed softly.
"I know."
"You're going to break half the kingdom's hearts if you keep refusing them."
"I don't mean to."
"But you do."
Lydia didn't respond.
Instead she continued arranging the clay bowls along the table.
For a brief moment she simply watched the market around her.
Children laughing.
Merchants arguing.
Life moving forward.
Simple.
Peaceful.
And far removed from the palace politics she barely understood.
By the time Lydia returned to the temple, the sun was beginning to dip behind the western hills.
The temple hall glowed softly with candlelight.
Sera looked up as Lydia entered.
"You're back."
"Yes."
"You missed Princess Myra's visit."
Lydia paused.
"I did?"
"She inspected the temple."
"And?"
Sera hesitated.
"She asked where you were."
Lydia felt a small knot form in her stomach.
"What did you say?"
"The truth. That you were helping in the lower city."
Lydia nodded slowly.
"And how did she respond?"
Sera shrugged.
"She didn't say anything."
But the tone in her voice suggested that silence might not have been a good sign.
Lydia placed her cloak down beside the altar.
Outside, the wind stirred the temple chimes again.
And somewhere in the distance...
A faint tremor rolled beneath the earth.
The tremor beneath the temple floor faded as quickly as it had come.
At first Lydia thought she had imagined it.
But the small metal chimes hanging from the temple archways swayed slightly, their delicate ringing breaking the quiet of the hall.
Sera noticed it too.
She glanced down at the marble beneath her feet.
"Did you feel that?"
Lydia nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"It's been happening more lately."
Lydia said nothing, though she had noticed it as well.
The tremors were never violent enough to damage the city, but they were strong enough that the temple attendants had begun recognizing the feeling instantly.
Like a distant heartbeat beneath the earth.
Sera shook her head and returned to folding the cloths.
"I hate when the ground does that."
"The knights will handle whatever is causing it," Lydia said softly.
"That's what they always say."
As the sun dipped lower outside the temple windows, the two women began preparing the hall for the evening prayers.
Candles were replaced.
Incense braziers were relit.
Fresh water was poured into the ceremonial basins.
The temple would soon welcome visitors from across the city, merchants seeking blessings, soldiers preparing to leave for patrol, and nobles hoping the princess's temple might grant them favor.
Sera balanced herself on a stool while adjusting one of the hanging lanterns.
"You know," she said casually, "Darien came looking for you earlier."
Lydia sighed quietly.
"He asked you to tell me that, didn't he?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"I told him you were working."
"He already knew that."
"Then I told him you were busy."
Sera hopped down from the stool.
"He didn't look very hopeful."
"I'm sure he'll recover."
"He won't stop asking."
"Most of them eventually do."
Sera tilted her head slightly.
"Why do you always say no? You get so many opportunities to run off and get married."
Lydia continued lighting the candles along the altar.
"I have responsibilities. My duites to Princess Myra comes first."
"That's not really an answer."
Lydia paused.
Her gaze drifted briefly toward the massive statue of Princess Myra towering above the altar.
"I promised I would serve the temple."
"You could still do that and marry someone."
"Maybe. But that would be a lot harder than in may seem. I'd have responsibilities as a wife, and to the princess. It would all be too much."
Sera crossed her arms.
"But?"
Lydia smiled faintly.
"I'm happy here."
Sera studied her face for a moment.
"You're strange."
"I've been told that. But what's the world without a few strange people here and there?"
The temple doors creaked open.
Two armored knights stepped inside, their armor still carrying the dust of the forests beyond the city walls.
One of them removed his helmet, revealing a tired face beneath tangled hair.
"Evening," he said.
Sera waved.
"Evening, Captain."
The man stretched his shoulders, clearly exhausted.
"Princess Myra here?"
"No," Sera answered.
"Good."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"She asks too many questions."
Lydia approached with a small basin of water.
"You've been riding all day."
The captain accepted it gratefully, a slight blush creeping on his face.
"Thank you, Lydia."
The second knight leaned against one of the pillars.
"The forest was quiet today."
"That's good," Sera said.
"Too quiet," the knight replied.
The captain drank some of the water before handing the basin back to Lydia.
"You ever notice how the woods get silent right before something bad happens?"
Lydia frowned slightly.
"The beasts?"
"Maybe."
The knight shrugged.
"Or something worse."
Sera rolled her eyes.
"You patrol soldiers love scaring people."
"Not trying to scare anyone," the captain said. "Just telling the truth."
Lydia placed the basin aside.
"You should rest before returning to the walls."
The captain chuckled.
"You sound like my concerned mother."
"Someone has to say it."
The knight smiled faintly.
"You always were the sensible one, Lydia."
Sera nudged Lydia with her elbow.
"He only says that because you helped patch him up last winter."
"That wound was terrible," Lydia said. "You nearly bled out."
"Still here," the captain replied.
As the conversation continued inside the temple, a lone figure stood further down the hill overlooking the building.
Noctis leaned against the trunk of an old oak tree, watching the temple doors.
The fading sunlight cast long shadows across the city below.
From this distance he could hear the faint echo of voices drifting through the open archways.
His gaze lingered on the entrance.
He had left earlier that day.
But curiosity had a way of bringing him back.
Not curiosity about the temple.
About Lydia.
He had seen beautiful women before.
Noblewomen.
Queens.
Foreign princesses.
But none of them had the same effect.
There was something different about her.
Something natural.
Unpolished.
And the way Myra reacted to her made it even more interesting.
Noctis smiled faintly to himself.
Inside the temple, Lydia laughed softly at something one of the knights had said.
The sound carried down the hill.
Noctis listened for a moment.
Then pushed himself away from the tree.
"Soon," he murmured to himself.
And began walking back toward the palace.
Back inside, the knights eventually finished their brief visit and returned to their patrol duties.
The temple grew quiet again as night settled over Eryndor.
Sera yawned loudly while stacking the last of the cloths.
"I'm exhausted."
"You say that every night."
"And every night it's true."
Lydia extinguished several of the candles along the outer walls.
"Go rest. I'll finish the closing duties."
"You always say that too."
"And every night it's true."
Sera laughed.
"Fine."
She grabbed her things and headed toward the servant quarters.
"Don't stay up too late."
"I won't."
Soon Lydia was alone again inside the massive hall.
The temple felt larger at night.
The shadows stretched longer between the pillars, and the wind outside seemed louder when the city quieted.
Lydia finished wiping the altar and stepped back.
The statue of Princess Myra towered above her in silent marble.
For a moment Lydia simply stood there.
Looking up.
The candlelight flickered across the statue's face.
"Goodnight," Lydia murmured softly.
She gathered her cloth and basin and turned toward the corridor leading to the servant quarters.
Behind her, the temple chimes stirred again.
And far beneath the earth..
The ground trembled once more.
Stronger this time.