Astaroth and Lalitha retrieved the letter and their entry pass from the guard before entering the city. Sanctavia, with its pristine white buildings and clean streets, exuded an eerie tranquility. People silently went about their business, creating an atmosphere of unsettling calm. Astaroth double-checked the directions provided by the guard to locate the adventure guild. According to the guard, the guild was one of the rare structures in the city that deviated from the prevailing whiteness. Painted in a deep shade of red, the guild stood at the heart of Sanctavia.
The duo made their way slowly towards the building, taking in the sights and sounds of Sanctavia. Everywhere in the city, religious symbols adorned the streets. Ornate decorations and statues, both big and small, representing the goddess, filled their view. Astaroth examined the carvings closely but couldn't recognize the face. "This face is unfamiliar. Let's head to the guild and delve into the history of Sanctavia and the name of this mysterious goddess."
They soon arrived at the red building, which stood out amidst the surrounding white structures. Lalitha pushed the door open, and they entered together. Inside, the guild's layout mirrored the one they had seen in Yosnad— a reception counter, a request wall, and several booths where adventurers gathered to discuss their quests. However, there was an unsettling aura that hung in the air, causing Lalitha to move closer to her master.
As they approached the receptionist, a faint whisper echoed through the hall, as if carried by invisible voices. Her eyes seemed vacant, devoid of life, as she mechanically spoke, "Welcome to the adventurer guild of Sanctavia. I am Sophia, How may I assist you today?"
Astaroth and Lalitha exchanged a wary glance, their senses tingling with an unsettling presence lurking beneath the surface. Their attention was drawn to a painting hanging on the wall. It depicted the very goddess they sought information about, but her face now bore an eerie resemblance to the Sophia's vacant stare.
Lalitha cleared her throat, trying to break the uneasy silence. "Ahem... we come from Yosnad and bring a letter for the guild master, Glenda White."
The receptionist looked at Lalitha, her gaze hollow and distant. "Master Glenda is currently on a mission and won't return for another two weeks. You can come back at that time."
Lalitha's impatience grew, her voice laced with urgency. "Can we leave the letter with you? We don't plan to stay in Sanctavia for long, and this letter is from the guild master of Yosnad, Magnus Ironfist... We have been entrusted with its delivery."
"Since you mentioned that the letter came from the guild leader, I cannot accept it from you. Master Glenda has been strict about receiving items from another guild. You will have to come back in two weeks when Master Glenda is back," Sophia replied.
Astaroth's frustration grew, but he knew he had no choice. "Fine, we shall return when your guild master is back. However, in the meantime, perhaps you could assist us with a few other matters. Can you provide us with the history of Sanctavia and the name of the goddess?" Astaroth inquired.
Sophia, a devout follower of goddess teachings, paused for a moment, her thoughts turning to the religious beliefs she held dear. She began, "Sanctavia, the ancient city shrouded in mystery, is said to have been blessed by the divine presence of the Goddess Spirit. It is believed that the city's foundation was established by devout followers who sought to create a haven for the faithful."
"In the realm of the goddess teachings," she continued, "the goddess revered in Sanctavia is known as Seraphiel. She is regarded as a symbol of purity, compassion, and divine protection. The people of Sanctavia have worshipped her for centuries, seeking her intercession in times of need. There are many records of the devotees blessed by the goddess throughout the history of Sanctavia. The pope who is the highest ranking minister in Sanctavia would intercede and help us in our prayers to the goddess Seraphiel."
As she spoke about the goddess, her eyes lit up with an otherworldly glow. Sophia eagerly continued, delving into the ancient history of Sanctavia and the enigmatic deity. Legend has it that eons ago, a malevolent demon king reigned over the land of Acrania, subjecting its people to unimaginable suffering. Despite the valiant efforts of a few kingdoms that rallied individuals with extraordinary talents, their attempts to vanquish the demon king were futile, destroying these once-thriving realms.
No hero emerged no champion to wield the mantle of courage against the demon king's tyranny. In the darkest hour, the goddess of Acrania, moved by the plight of her people, descended from her ethereal realm, assuming the guise of a fearsome female warrior. For forty days and forty nights, she clashed with the demon king, engaging in a cataclysmic battle that shook the very foundations of existence. The goddess, though victorious, bore wounds from the encounter and was compelled to retreat to her celestial domain for a much-needed respite. The goddess before she when into her realm, founded Sanctavia and assigned a pope to oversee the country.
Yet, whispers persist that the demon king's malevolence lingers, a dormant darkness awaiting its chance to rise again. It is said that a chosen one, a worthy descendant, shall rise to take up the mantle and complete what the goddess had begun—a final battle against the remnants of evil that plague Acrania. And now, fate sets its gaze upon an unsuspecting soul, an ordinary individual who shall be thrust into a perilous journey, where the line between reality and nightmare blurs, and the fate of an entire realm hangs in the balance.
When Sophia finished her story, her face flushed slightly, and her eyes glowed. Lalitha couldn't help but feel that the story seemed exaggerated by the receptionist. "Is the upcoming Festival of Thanks related to the legend you just shared with us?" Astaroth asked.
"Yes, the festival is a time for everyone to express gratitude to the goddess Seraphiel for saving the world. I believe this festival should be celebrated across all of Arcania, not just in Sanctavia," Sophia replied, her voice tinged with unhappiness. "I am Lela, and I apologize for not properly introducing myself earlier. I am stuck here because Master Glenda is away, and as you can see... the guild hall is empty. I should be outside, preparing and getting ready for the festival next week. Instead, I'm stuck manning this empty counter," Lela complained to Lalitha.
Curiosity piqued, Astaroth leaned closer to Lela, his voice lowered to a hushed tone. "Lela, you mentioned a legend earlier. Could you share more about it? I sense there's something more to this festival than meets the eye."
Lela's expression turned solemn, and she glanced around warily before speaking. "There was a prophecy given by the first Pope of Sanctavia, in it, he mentioned the resurrection of the demon king. And also there is another tale, an ancient tale passed down through generations. It speaks of a dark secret hidden beneath Sanctavia, where the Festival of Thanks has its roots. They say that during the festival, a gateway opens to a realm of nightmares and forgotten horrors. Some claim to have seen shadows lurking in the corners, and whispers of dark magic that seep into the souls of those who dare to listen. But that is just a story. If the demon king is to raise "
Astaroth looked at Lela, realizing that he was indeed the demon king she mentioned. However, he had no recollection of battling the goddess for forty days and forty nights, nor had he fought anyone named Seraphiel. "Well, Lela," Astaroth said, "I believe these are merely old wives' tales. If the demon king were to be resurrected, he would surely have better things to do than rain brimstone upon Sanctavia."
Lela appeared slightly annoyed as she passionately argued her point. "I don't know about that. The demon king was killed by the goddess, so it's possible he would seek vengeance on Sanctavia upon his resurrection. And if that happens, we will all meet our doom. Oh, goddess Seraphiel, please save us all." Lela clasped her hands together in a fervent prayer to her deity.
Lalitha rolled her eyes in response to the prayer and turned to her master. "Master, let's leave. We've heard enough from Lela, and since the guild master Glenda White won't be back for another two weeks, we should find something else to occupy our time."
"If you're interested in delving deeper into the history of Sanctavia, there is a temple that holds the sacred scroll written by the first pope," Lela offered Astaroth additional information. "Legend has it that he was the only one who had ever laid eyes on the goddess. The temple will be open to visitors during the festival of thanks, and you could attempt to coax the people there into sharing stories about the temple's founding."
"Thank you, Lela. We have nothing else to do at the moment, so we'll explore the city a bit and then visit the temple next week," Astaroth replied.
Astaroth and Lalitha exited the adventurer guild and as they made their way through the winding streets of Sanctavia, a sense of unease settled upon them. Shadows seemed to stretch and twist, and the whispers of unseen entities sent shivers down their spines. The city's beauty masked a dark undercurrent, an ancient secret that pulsed beneath its cobblestone surface.