The Soul's Kiss

FABIAN

The ancient stones of the hidden sanctuary seemed to whisper with every step we took, following the silent Priestess through winding corridors that smelled of sage and time. Mother's hand was tight around mine, her palm slightly damp with nervousness. I squeezed back, trying to reassure her though my own heart hammered against my ribs.

We'd come seeking answers about what happened during the attack—that terrifying moment when it felt like something was trying to tear us apart from the inside.

The Priestess hadn't spoken a word since greeting us at the entrance. Her silver-streaked hair was braided down her back, swinging gently as she walked ahead. The soft glow of wall-mounted lanterns cast her elongated shadow across the stone floor.

"We're here," she finally announced, pushing open a set of heavy wooden doors.