Chapter 3

The forest was alive with the soft whispers of leaves swaying in the wind and the occasional chirp of unseen birds. Through the dense trees, the rhythmic thud of galloping hooves echoed, growing louder with each passing moment. A black stallion burst into view, its glossy coat shimmering under the dappled sunlight. Astride it was a woman, her posture regal, her veil flowing behind her like a banner of silver as the cool breeze caressed her face.

 Rhaine's piercing eyes were fixed on the path ahead, her expression one of serene determination. Her white and gold riding attire, trimmed with intricate embroidery, glinted faintly in the light that peeked through the canopy above. The forest was quite, the air itself holding a sense of reverence as she passed.

 The stallion slowed as the gates of the sect loomed into view, grand and imposing, adorned with carvings of ancient symbols. Two female warriors flanking the entrance straightened their backs as Rhaine approached, their hands resting lightly on the hilts of their swords. With a nod of respect, they acknowledged her, their eyes betraying both awe and devotion.

 "Saintess Rhaine," one of them murmured as she passed through, her voice low but reverent.

 Rhaine inclined her head in acknowledgment, her expression unreadable as she rode through the gates and into the inner courtyard. The sect bustled with life—warriors sparred in training yards, apprentices rushed to and fro with scrolls in hand, and the distant hum of chatter drifted from one of the many prayer halls.

 As her horse came to a graceful halt, Rhaine dismounted with fluid ease, her boots clicking softly against the stone-paved ground. Her veil settled around her shoulders like a silken waterfall.

Suddenly, a flurry of movement erupted from the steps of the main building. Selara, a young woman with fiery red hair tied into a loose braid, came rushing down, her breaths ragged as she practically stumbled in her haste.

 "Rhaine! You're back!" Selara cried, skidding to a stop in front of her, bent over with her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. "Where… have you been?" she wheezed, her words tumbling out between gasps.

 Rhaine regarded her with a raised eyebrow, her lips twitching in the faintest hint of amusement. "Selara, breathe."

 Selara straightened, still panting, and jabbed a finger toward her. "Healer Mirriam has been looking everywhere for you—"

 She didn't get to finish her sentence. Another female warrior, approached with brisk steps. Her armor gleamed in the afternoon sun, and her expression was as serious as stone. She nodded briefly before speaking in a clipped tone.

 "Saintess," she said, her voice steady but laced with urgency, "you are needed immediately in the main prayer hall by Healer Mirriam." She gestured toward the building with a sharp motion of her hand.

 Selara's mouth opened to protest, but the warrior's sharp gaze silenced her before she could utter a word.

 Rhaine's expression shifted, her amusement almost vanishing. She gave the warrior a single nod, her veil fluttering slightly as the breeze picked up again. "Lead the way."

 The warrior turned on her heel, guiding Rhaine toward the prayer hall with long strides. Selara trailed behind, still visibly flustered but unable to contain her curiosity.

 As they passed through the courtyard, heads turned to watch, whispers rippling through the crowd like waves.

Selara, walking as quickly as she could to keep up, leaned closer to Rhaine and whispered, "Do you think it's about—"

 "Selara," Rhaine interrupted gently, though her tone brooked no argument. "Let us see what she has to say first."

Selara sighed but nodded, her curiosity barely held in check.

Despite Rhaine's composed exterior, a flicker of unease stirred within her. The edges of her thoughts were clouded with dark possibilities, and her fingers brushed absently against the hilt of the dagger concealed at her hip.

 The blood moon was approaching—just a fortnight away. She could feel its ominous pull like a shadow on the horizon, growing darker with every passing day. The ancients had spoken of its power, the way it tore open unseen realms, unleashing things best left forgotten. Their enemies, clever and ruthless, would not hesitate to exploit such an opportunity.

 And if they succeeded?

 Her mind painted grim possibilities. Whispers of abominations prowling the land, corruption spreading like wildfire through the hearts of the innocent, and chaos unraveling the delicate balance of the world.

 The doors to the prayer hall loomed ahead, their intricate carvings of ruins casting long shadows on the stone floor. The warrior pushed them open with a firm hand, and Rhaine stepped inside.