As the sun began to dip below the horizon, the King's Pit, the pulsing heart of Barnachia, a city of seven undulating hills, unfurled before them in a breathtaking display of grandeur. Street lamps flickered to life, casting a warm glow over the cobblestone streets.
As they traversed the bridges spanning the winding Chan River, the first sight to greet them was the Nine Immortals Square. The square was adorned with life-sized statues of the kingdom's illustrious founders, immortalized in stone for all time. Continuing on, they passed the Great City Library, a repository of ancient knowledge dating back over a millennium.
After climbing the steep slopes of the Nine Principles Hill, they caught a glimpse of the towering Mountain Fortress, a formidable edifice with outstretched arms, looming in the distance like a colossal, fabled giant. The Lion Road beckoned, its path illuminated by torches, casting a flickering light that shone like stars in the inky blackness of night. Finally, they turned towards the east.
Their route led them through the southern part of the city, where the Chan River cleaved the two halves, flowing from the craggy peaks of the Cahandor Mountains. This area, known as South Barnachia, was characterized by its quieter pace of life and sparse population when compared to North Barnachia. Four lofty hills, dedicated to the Element Gods, stood like a sentinel in a graceful semicircle, their broad shoulders sweeping down towards the heart of the city.
Here, perched atop each of the hills, were the ancient temples of Od (fire), Aver (air), Mai (water), and Gai (earth), structures steeped in history and considered sacred by the city's inhabitants for generations. Brad, an orphan who grew up in Barnachia, suddenly realized that he had never before visited these holy shrines.
The duo's objective was very close to the King's Pit, which lay in the northern precinct of the city, ensconced amid three hills that flanked the northwest and eastern parts of town. Atop the peaks of these hills, three grand temples were erected more than a millennium past in tribute to three celestial deities. The northern temple was consecrated to the God of Equilibrium, Demian; the western temple was consecrated to the God of Darkness, Therion; and the eastern temple was consecrated to the God of Radiance, Orion.
The Dwarves, once revered guardians of these ancient lands, had reverently bestowed upon these magnificent peaks names that resonated with their profound ancestral legacy. By invoking the sacred names of Dem-Han, Ther-Han, and Or-Han, they paid homage to the three gods.
According to the sacred chronicles inscribed in the revered tomes of Dwarven lore, these sacred sanctuaries were meticulously crafted by the deft hands of nine indomitable Dwarf stone artisans, who emerged unscathed from the cataclysm that rent the realm asunder a millennium and a half in the past. When Humankind claimed dominion over these cherished lands, they christened the structures anew, bequeathing upon them their own designations: the Gray Fortress, the Dark Fortress, and the White Fortress, each appellation a testament to the chromatic tapestry of the stones hewn with unwavering resolve.
Under the cover of night, the duo arrived at the foothills of the White Fortress, situated to the east of King's Pit. They entrusted their steeds to the grooms stationed at the entrance of the settlement and ascended the winding road that led up the hill, their steps accompanied by a youthful Orion priest.
As they progressed up the Nine King Road, they encountered a sequence of magnificent entrances, each granting access to a different royal tomb. Each of the tombs had been carved into the rock face and faced a different direction, their grandeur a testament to the splendor of the kings that had been interred there. According to the historical records of Barnachia, there were nine such sacred mausoleums, each honoring a great king from a different era dating back to over 1500 years ago.
The tombs themselves were a sight to behold, containing sarcophagi, catafalques, altars, statues, and a labyrinthine network of interconnected tunnels that extended deep into the heart of the hill. Although the ground floor of the first tomb was accessible, the deeper levels were sealed with powerful sacred spells by the priests. Even Brad, who had spent over two years on the hill, did not know why access to the tunnels was forbidden.
Whispers had circulated that there were underground tunnels that connected the ancient cisterns situated at the base of each of the seven hills, leading to a century-old water and waste system that lay hidden beneath the ground upon which King's Pit was built. But as to the veracity of such rumors, none could say for certain.
In the span of half an hour, they ascended to the summit. The settlement sprawled out in a flat expanse, encircling the hallowed temple in its midst, and resembled a labyrinth when seen from above, with two-story L-shaped edifices forming its walls. The outer perimeters of the buildings were ensconced by a thicket of gnarled and crooked poplar trees, which stooped and swayed incessantly under the unrelenting dominion of the fierce wind that reigned over the peak.
As they strode through the corridor formed by the buildings and the woodland that muffled the tumultuous roar of the tempest, their tresses were thrown into disarray by the billowing gusts until they arrived at the hoary temple. The weeping cherub statue, positioned in front of the ancient temple, perpetually dribbled tears into the pool below, much to Ismeth's astonishment, who watched in wonder as the water flowed.
He turned to Brad, whose demeanor was somber and tense, surmising that his companion was perhaps conjuring up old recollections. Ismeth gritted his teeth and held his tongue, refusing to break the silence that had enveloped them.
"Wait here," Orion Priest Pedras spoke to Ismeth with reverence. "Lady Illaine has requested a private audience with Knight Silverhilt. "
With a nod of acknowledgment, Ismeth paid his respects to the priest and retreated, casting pebbles into the pool as a means of occupying himself.
The grandiose double-winged entrance of the ancient Orion Temple, embellished with the emblem of Orion, creaked open and the priest led the way while Brad followed, taking measured and reverential steps. The unassuming, single-level temple boasted a lofty dome ceiling and was bereft of windows. The dimly lit space was illuminated by the candles that adorned the niches on the walls, casting a muted glow. The interior comprised a semicircular arrangement of seating and a colossal three-dimensional altar depicting the Orion symbol, with a sphere and an elongated sword piercing through it.
Whenever Brad caught sight of the statue of Athellas, brought to his knees with a sorrowful countenance due to the agony of the sword impaling his back, he couldn't help but shiver. Having been raised as an orphan under the protection of the Orion Temple, Brad had frequented the temple in his youth, where he would envision the colossal figure that bore the entire cosmos on its back. Even imagining Athellas, depicted in a hue that stretched beyond the clouds in the sky, seemed peculiar.
The knight candidate raised his gaze to the magnificent and potent angelic depictions adorning the dome ceiling. The torches held by the angels flickered in varying shades of yellow and red, while the sinister eyes of the dark horned beasts lurking in the distant and obscured shadows glittered malevolently, imparting vivacity to the artwork. In the epic battleground illustrating the clash between the two opposing powers of heaven and hell, seven silhouettes, representing all of the gods, stood right in the center.