She Emerges

Laemno dashed through the underground tunnel at a speed far above human aptitude.

The enhancement spell, which coated his right leg, allowed him to lunge more than a dozen meters with each stomp, moving through the cavernous network much quicker than expected.

However, it came with a high cost.

Barely a few minutes had passed, and agonizing throbs pulsated within his flesh as if something was clawing its way out of his thigh and foot. The stinging pain was only growing stronger, reverberating across his bones and spine after every step.

Despite that, Laemno found himself exhilarated.

Physical suffering and torment were hard to bear, but if they were the price of freedom, then he would happily pay them. Such a fleeting toll was nothing next to the gnawing anxiety of never knowing where one's life was headed—or, on the opposite, the desperate awareness of its mediocre end.

As soon as the spellcraft dissipated from his limb, he spread a second black stick over his left leg, alternating the burden. The booming blast of his sprint shook the passageway, and he kept on forward, following the indications of Maia's map.

It took him less than half an hour to cross the longest pathway, arriving at a closed circular gate with a chiseled sigil on its surface. Looking nothing like the symbols Laemno had seen in Hierapetra, it depicted a cracked sun that spilled a strange liquid from its insides.

The walls were littered with primitive torches that lit by themselves when he approached, glimmering with eerie, bluish fire.

A silvery eye flickered into existence above the exit, gazing solemnly at Laemno.

That eye... I've seen it before. It's the same one that appeared right after I woke up in this body. I remember it vanishing fairly quickly, which made me dismiss it as a hallucination. What does it mean?

Before he could do anything, the sound of scraping stones echoed within the passageway. The gate slowly rolled to the side, letting in the warm sunlight. It chased away the dampness and led Laemno outside, though his steps were shaky at best due to the spellcraft's lingering ache.

As his eyes adjusted to the golden radiance, he carefully inspected his surroundings, on guard against any hidden danger.

Ruined remnants of a domed building were scattered everywhere, resembling the vestiges of an ancient temple.

Laemno noticed a few slabs of limestone laying diagonally against half-crumbled columns. Cryptic illustrations were carved on them, showing a weeping, horned man caught between two groups of similarly-looking people as they stabbed him with curved swords.

Rectangular coffins made of cracked marble were latched to the few still-standing walls, giving the atmosphere of an elaborate sepulcher from another time, forsaken and forgotten after eons of unuse.

Maia said that it was an abandoned ritual site, right? He sighed, clutching his wounded arm as he walked through the ruins. I wonder why she hid the fact that she was a magus from me. Spellcraft should have been useless against her, meaning she wasn't truly hypnotized. Was she my secret helper all along?

Laemno was pondering about her reasons when chills coursed across his back.

Perhaps it was an ominous hunch or a subconscious response to cues he hadn't grasped, but he glanced back at the passageway's entrance.

There she stood, a woman clad in all black. A mourning veil shrouded her face, though an emerald-green gaze pierced through the fabric while she silently stared.

Laemno's senses screamed at him to flee at once, as if every fiber of his being knew that she was dangerous.

"Finally," she uttered in a heavy voice, almost sobbing. "I found you, Celestial Offering. This time, I shall escort you to the Heavens myself."

The metallic glint of a blade shone from under her sleeve as she grasped a leaf-shaped dagger.

Only then did realization dawn upon Laemno. "The assassin! It's you!"

His fragmented memories recomposed like the scattered, broken pieces of a canvas.

He momentarily froze in place, glimpsing at the past again—a beautiful girl, her innocent call in a shadowed corner of the inner gardens, the mirror she gave him, the words she whispered into his very soul, their sweetness and power, enough enthrall his mind and submit his will.

"Oh? So you do remember. How curious."

Laemno twirled a knife out of his bag with his sole valid hand. He then crouched, wincing as the searing pain tightened around his knees.

I can scarcely move, but she doesn't know that yet. Of my five black sticks, I already used two on my legs. If I strengthen them again, they'll probably break down permanently. My left arm is too wounded to be used, so I'm stuck with my right one.

Luckily, she doesn't seem aware of spellcraft, and she's likely to underestimate me, seeing as I'm an eleven-year-old non-magus. Taking her by surprise is key here. My chance will come when she least expects it.

Laemno's teeth jittered from fear, and his trembling hand barely held onto his weapon. Despite that, his stance remained steady as he scrutinized the woman's every move.

I can't give up yet. Not this close to my goal.

"Those eyes of yours... It's like you're a different person. When we first met, there was no such fire in your silvery gaze. What did you see in the Eye of Crepuscule that changed you to this extent?"

The Eye of Crepuscule... Is it the name of the triangular mirror?

"Why do you want to kill me?" Laemno answered her question with another, trying to stall for time. "If your purpose is to ruin the Sacrificial Ceremony, you could help me escape."

"My purpose is your end. It is as simple as that."

Greenish light glistened from the inscriptions on her robe, filling Laemno with an alarming sense of foreboding.

The next moment, the woman vanished.

Faster than a blink, blurrier than a shadow, her figure dashed across the ruins with the full intent to kill him in one strike. His eyes failed to follow her trajectory, and he could only feel the impending, ineluctable sense of doom as her blade closed on his throat.

I-I'm going to die—

CLANG!

An arrow of solid light met the woman's dagger inches from Laemno's neck, deviating its course.

The woman didn't stop her assault, revealing an oversized needle between her fingers. She thrust it toward Laemno's skull as he stared blankly, unable to even react.

CLANG!

The golden projectile rebounded on the ground and impeded her attack again, this time slashing her hand in the process.

The following instant, a rain of shimmering bolts fell on the black-robed woman, forcing her back as she melted into the shadows of a nearby pillar.

"The Gods are good," a familiar voice declared, walking into the crumbled temple. "We aren't too late."

Laemno glanced at its source, only to see Bishop Antenor, Priestess Lyra, and Novice Stolos standing at the entrance.