"We've nearly arrived, Honored One."
As Lyra Elcmene's voice echoed in the darkness, Laemno nodded and kept walking.
He was blinded—or blindfolded, to be precise. At sunrise today, he had been woken up and thoroughly prepared for his journey to the Caphygae Palace, including elaborate garments of purple silk and silvery wraps, as well as a wreath made of golden oak and laurel.
Since they needed to use a hidden route to remain unseen by the public, they chose to blindfold Laemno. When asked about the reason, they merely dubbed it a security measure.
They had departed at noon, with Laemno surrounded by five armored guards, the Novice Stolos of Priene, and the Priestess Lyra Elcmene.
An escort this heavy and the trouble of keeping me blinded... They're really suspecting something.
Not wanting to give in to panic, Laemno collected his thoughts and studied the gathered information so far.
We've been walking for a while now, and from the echo, I can guess that we're underground. Judging from the noise coming from above, we're right under the streets of Priene. Maybe a subterranean level that spans the entirety of the Divine Capital?
Probably man-made, too. I can count two people on each side of me from the steps alone, so it's pretty spacious. Most importantly, it's connected to more than one route. We've had to take turns several times, but I felt wind gusts near some of them. It means there are junctions.
Assuming I can find an entrance and there are no checkpoints, it could be a viable escape route. It would've been easy enough had I used spellcraft, but I can't risk it with two probable magi near me. Plus, I've been shadowed by the Adonal Virgins since waking up. It took all I had to keep them from discovering anything suspicious.
The group suddenly stopped, and the sound of grinding stones reverberated in the underground passageway. Soon, Laemno felt the warmth of sunlight spread across his face. It chased the damp coldness of the cavern and guided him forward.
Dirt and plants tickled his toes through his sandals, indicating they weren't on Priene's marbled streets.
We're outside the Divine Capital?
They walked for another hour until the sun no longer cast its pleasant gaze on them. A frigid gust made Laemno's bare legs tremble, and his blindness somehow deepened. Everyone stopped moving, barely making any noise while the wind loudly blew in their ears.
After a few seconds of silence, Laemno asked, "Why did we stop?"
His words seemed to have woken Lyra from her daze, and she hurriedly answered with an uneven voice, "Oh, my apologies, Honored One. We've arrived at Mount Eurymedon."
One of the guards untied the cloth around Laemno's eyes, and the unfolding scene made him understand why his escort had been in awe.
Was it a statue? No—a man-shaped mountain. It was taller than anything he had ever seen, so much that it made Laemno dizzy.
We have been walking for a few hours at most, so how come it wasn't visible from the Divine Capital?!
Although it was daytime moments ago, the dark serenity of night ruled this place, only illuminated by the flickering starlight. Instead of clouds, there were swirling nebulae, forming concentric spirals that could only be considered eerie.
The gigantic effigy sat on a throne of smaller mountains, sprawling endlessly on the horizon. It held its own sculpted head with what seemed like its right hand and a golden disk the size of Priene with its left hand. The mountain's peak was its severed neck, where the night sky warped and plunged downward, as if attracted by whatever lay there.
Laemno couldn't help but remember Earth's ancient myths and their countless illustrations of a deity's abode. However, he knew that no matter what they had come up with, it couldn't match the divine majesty in front of him.
This was the territory of a Hallowed Sovereign—the sacred garden of Adonaios, the Goddess of the Celestial Sphere and the Mother of Dawn. It wasn't land either man or magus could hope to carelessly tread.
Momentarily lost in shock, Laemno didn't realize that his escort had retreated several steps. Lyra Elcmene finished a silent prayer before finally speaking:
"We shall wait for you here, Honored One." She pointed at the finely carved archway, beyond which stood endless stairs. "Mere humans aren't allowed in Mout Eurymedon without invitation, and the Caphygae Palace lies at its peak."
Laemno took the time to absorb her words, then tilted his head in confusion. "Am I really supposed to climb all the way up there?"
They might as well throw him from a cliff and be done with it. Even enhanced with spellcraft, his frail body wouldn't survive the ascension. In fact, he doubted that magi could accomplish this feat, let alone regular humans.
"Adonal Virgins take up their temporary oaths at ten years old, and their first rite is usually to ascend those stairs. There shouldn't be any problem... I think." Lyra sounded unconvinced by her own words, but she still nudged him forward.
Gathering the necessary courage, Laemno gulped down his saliva before approaching the archway.
Despite its surroundings being mostly rocks and thin patches of vegetation, it was weirdly ornate, without a single blemish or imperfection. A sentence, written in Heriperan, was carved on it:
Weep, thou who shuns the Firmament's indifference.
Once he read it, Laemno felt a strange tug in his chest. The glimmering stars, man-shaped mountain, and whirling nebulae no longer looked magnificent. Instead, they filled him with a fleeting sense of dread, as if they heralded a terrible future for him. They were a display of power from a being he couldn't fathom—an entity that wanted to sacrifice him.
These thoughts, or rather, the truth of his situation, slowly settled in.
Could he really manage to keep up his facade? Wouldn't it be suicide to ascend those stairs? If she realized what his true intentions were, the Hallowed Sovereign might very well watch over him herself until the Sacrificial Ceremony.
If that were to happen, there would be no hope of escape. Laemno was sure of it.
I can't. I can't climb those steps. His hands trembled, and his legs nearly buckled.
Fear overwhelmed his wits, and his silvery eyes opened wide as he looked for a way out.
Maybe he could fake illness? No, they would quickly discover his lie, then become much warier of him.
What do I do? What do I do?! Laemno's panic grew beyond his ability to hide, and it visibly surfaced. Cracking sounds echoed in his escort's ears as he gritted his teeth.
"Is there something wrong, Honored One?" Stolos picked up on Laemno's abnormality first.
Lyra Elcmene and the armored guards also noticed his erratic behavior, but they didn't even have time to speak when the next oddity happened.
Laemno stood in front of one of the archway's columns, stroking its cold surface with peculiar gentleness. He took a long breath, head raised as if steeling his heart for something.
Then, without a moment of hesitation, he smashed his skull against the bare rock.
—
Meanwhile, in Priene.
Nysa walked through the bustling streets of Hierapetra's Divine Capital, accompanied by two slaves. Even garbed with a common dye, her natural beauty didn't fail to make most passersby glance at her twice. However, as always, she found the restraint of Hierapetran women quite peculiar.
In the Sethian Empire, women gazed lecherously at each other, and so did men. Most other nations viewed them as amoral hedonists, while people of her homeland often used a less polite version of puritan maidens to refer to those who criticized them.
Nysa couldn't comprehend either side. For her, indulgence in desire was a foreign concept, as she had none, but its absence was jarring for someone who grew up in Sethia. Ultimately, she decided that pondering such subjects was outside the scope of responsibilities for a mere tool.
Hence, she would simply adapt her behavior to her place of residence.
Of course, ingrained habits would show up from time to time. For example, Nysa usually stole a glance or two more than what was appropriate at the wrestling young men when passing near the training grounds. Likewise, her eyes wandered a little south when crossing through the ladies' gardens as they painted naked portraits of each other.
Fortunately for her, the citizens of Hierapetra were considerate enough to give foreigners some leeway. And in cases where cultural barriers became too thick, the greatest conciliator was, as expected, money.
Nysa's surroundings slowly opened, and the crowd of women heading to the morning market started thinning. She soon reached a massive, circular structure with arched entrances. Next to it, the waters of River Danaus glittered like jewels under the sunlight, forking into smaller streams that coalesced towards the Flickering Sea.
Rows of men were waiting in established groups on its banks, distinguished by their social class, wealth, and, less commonly, artistic interests. Many of them frowned at the sight of a woman approaching, but the whispers of their more knowledgeable peers quieted their rising indignation.
This was the Theatre of Priene, one of the Divine Capital's main cultural and political centers.
Typically, women would be barred from entry unless they were part of the Temple of Stars.
Nysa, who displayed neither priestly garments nor the ornate wreath of Adonal Virgins, was quickly recognized as an outsider. Despite that, the theater's guards smiled, bowed, and guided her inside before the performance had even begun...