In the Great Sanctuary of Priene, within the Inner Monastery.
Laemno stood frozen on his bed, staring at his bedroom's entrance with the gaze of startled prey. Sweat slid down his back and forehead, followed by heart poundings so intense they echoed in his ears.
In this situation, he didn't even dare breathe, let alone answer the door.
...
There was a short yet excruciating pause, plunging the chambers into complete silence.
Unfortunately, it didn't last.
The knocks resumed again, this time with greater intensity. A male voice came from the hallway, speaking in the guttural dialect of the Western Province:
"Good evening, Honored One," he said. "I am sorry to disturb you this late. May I come in?"
Those words jolted Laemno awake.
Scrambling together whatever wits he had intact after his flirt with perception magecraft, he rose from the bed, ensuring that his artifacts were well hidden underneath his tunic. He could access most of them in a pinch with a few hand tricks, leaving him with a few options if it was an assassin.
"You may. I'm not asleep yet."
The man immediately pushed the door open, walking under the chandelier's fading light.
He wore elaborate clerical garments with a long white tunic, a gold-and-green wrap around his belt, and some sort of animal hide above his right shoulder.
Physically, he appeared in his late thirties, with semi-long blond hair, a well-kept, short-cut beard, and piercing hazel eyes that seemed to analyze everything within his sight. His skin was fairer than most, with a crescent-looking stigma adjacent to his left eye and a second one underneath shaped like a thick, horizontal line.
Thanks to the notebook, Laemno had learned that such stigmata were often markings of a qualified magus. They resulted from high volumes of Mana coursing through their nerves and scorching their skin, carving permanent scars. The forms they took were generally random, but many claimed they could use them to assess a magus' mystical potential.
"Once again, I apologize for interrupting your rest." The man reverently bowed. "My name is Antenor of Delos. I am a Bishop from the Luminous House."
The Temple of Stars again?! Laemno fought hard to stifle his grimace. What do these bastards want from me? Please, leave me alone for one second. I'm begging you.
In the Luminous House, the clerical hierarchy comprised the Pontiffs of Stars and Dawn as the two religious leaders, followed by the Archbishops, the Bishops, the Priests and Priestesses, and finally, the Novices.
If those ranks were converted to magus classifications, Laemno theorized that as a Bishop, Antenor of Delos would likely be an 8th-class Occultist or a 7th-class Thaumaturge at worst.
Laemno shifted his body language to appear more solemn, the glint in his silvery eyes adding more weight to his aura of holiness. He spoke in a clear voice, devoid of any nervousness or jittery stuttering:
"I am pleased to meet you, Bishop Antenor. Is there anything you need from me?"
"The pleasure is all mine, Honored One." Antenor straightened his posture. "I've been assigned to care for you until the Sacrificial Ceremony alongside Priestess Elcmene and Novice Stolos. I wanted you to know that if anything is bothering you, you can freely speak to me."
Antenor's lips curved into a warm smile. "None of us can even claim to comprehend the pressure you're under right now. At most, we can only alleviate the crippling weight of your duty."
He drew the holy symbol of the Luminous Spear across his chest. "As the successor of the Nameless Saint, yours is the purest of hearts. It's the sacred responsibility of the Temple of Stars to guard it against any corruption. Please, if the slightest thing worries you, do not hesitate to share it with me."
Well, not getting butchered in a few days would be a good start. Burying that response deep in his mind, Laemno mirrored the Luminous Spear's gesture in turn.
"Your devotion is wasted on me, Bishop Antenor. We are alike in the fact that each of us has a role to play in the Gods Beyond's plan."
Although the whole charade made his nauseous, Laemno strained his cheeks to display a smile. "To be honest, I was a little disturbed by Father Agathon's sudden death. I've come to accept it by now, thanks to the venerated Grace of Blossoms. Furthermore, there's no need to worry about my well-being this much. I won't be of this world for long."
"The Grace of Blossoms, huh..." Antenor muttered under his breath before sighing.
There was another pause, where a frustrating lull reigned over the room. Antenor kept staring at Laemno with a piercing look, giving the impression that he had seen through him. After a few seconds had passed, the Bishop bowed again.
"I see. The legacy of the Nameless Saint shines through, even in the darkness." Antenor raised his head immediately afterward. "By the way, Honored One... Is your right eye alright? It seems to be unnaturally red."
Oh crap! Laemno briefly lost his composure, and his brain went into overdrive, searching for a believable excuse.
The next moment, a deafening sound boomed outside the Great Sanctuary.
Laemno spun toward his floor-to-ceiling windows, only to see a massive pillar of pale light reach for the night sky. It was followed by a quake strong enough to make his bedroom jolt, and cracks spread like an ominous web against the glassy surface.
"What's this?" He blurted out, confused.
The Bishop appeared just as shocked, but the signs of surprise quickly receded, returning to his deadpan expression.
"Please remain in your chambers, Honored One," he said while leaving the room.
Laemno could hear him yell out orders just before the door was locked, but he was too fixated on the shimmering pillar of light to pay them any heed. It rose from somewhere in the city's center, where the buildings seemed densest.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed a few figures sliding down the hill from the Luminous House, heading directly towards the disturbance.
"What's... happening?"
—
A few minutes earlier, inside the Henosis Seekers' transitional base in the slums.
Nysa's stomach churned as she peered inside a particular room, its dim lights coming from nearly melted candles.
"This is... insanity."