Ingrid sat at her desk in the dimly lit room, the darkness outside intensifying the soft glow of the lamp near her paper. The quill pen in her hand tapped against the table rhythmically as she pondered her next steps.
After returning from the temple, Ingrid went to her History class and went about her routine as if nothing extraordinary had happened. Once the class concluded, she found herself in her room, staring at the ceiling, contemplating the nature of the voice in her mind. Was it truly a Goddess communicating with her, or was it a figment of her imagination? After hours of internal debate, she concluded that being cautious wouldn't hurt, and for now, she would entertain the possibility.
Having had her dinner, Ingrid decided on her course of action. She took a piece of paper, held the quill pen, and began to write. The initials "C.P." graced the paper, encircled as she delved into her thoughts.
