After laying down for a couple of minutes to process what just happened, Marcy sits back up and starts to stare at the vial of mysterious liquid Sobrisus had given her. The vial gave off an intense feeling of longing, almost as if it had emotions of its own. The liquid was drawing Marcy in, telling her to drink it, to tear it away from its glass prison."Nope, that's creepy as hell." Marcy slowly stands up with a pained groan, making her way to the kitchen-if you could even call it that. She opens the mini-fridge she once scavenged from a dumpster and places the vial inside. As soon as the door closes, the pressure that had unknowingly built up in her mind dissipates.Marcy stumbles for a second, catching herself on the edge of the fridge. "Ok, there's definitely something wrong with that thing."She stares at the fridge for a moment and slowly begins to open it just a little. The moment there's a crack in the fridge door, a pressure starts to build up in her mind again, in the form of a lingering whisper drawing her attention to the vial. Instantly, Marcy pushes the door closed with her shaking hands. "No way am I going to drink that now. . . but what about the thirty days? What's going to happen in thirty days? . . . Shit, this is so messed up."'He said be ready. Be ready for what? Is he going to come back? Does he expect me to drink that liquid that's clearly not safe? Is the thirty days from now or from the second I drink the liquid?' Marcy grabs her head in frustration for a few seconds, then lets go and sighs. "Ok, chill out, Marcy, whatever it is, you have thirty days."'Let's see, he said he was a mystic, meaning he most likely has a connection to one of the churches, but I don't know which one. . . Maybe I should start in a library, but would it even have the information I'm looking for? Well, it wouldn't hurt to check. Ok maybe it would her a little, given my condition.'Thinking for a moment, Marcy decides to try sleeping again. But as soon as she lays down, she realizes she's not tired at all. "What the hell? I'm usually always tired, even after sleeping for a long time."Curious, she gets up and looks in the mirror, surprised to see that the bags under her eyes-or rather, the lack thereof-have vanished. "That's... interesting."Marcy touches her face, noting that it still looks the same, except for the newfound energy now reflected in her features. "Hmmm. . . there's no point in sleeping now, but there's also no way I'm going to go outside at this time. . . How problematic." Marcy having nothing else to do was really starting to wish she had a phone, or at least someway to access the internet right now."*Growl*. . . . . It seems I'm hungry. . . Oh man, I really don't want to open the fridge again," Marcy muttered, eyeing the appliance with a mix of apprehension and frustration.The thought of facing that vial's unsettling presence again made her stomach churn, but the persistent rumble from within reminded her that she needed to eat."Maybe there's something else around here I can snack on," she said, glancing around her small space, hoping to find an alternative. Marcy coming to the conclusion that there was nothing groaned and narrowed her eyes at the fridge.She apprehensively walks over to the fridge, placing her hand on the door Marcy quickly opens the door and as fast as she can tried to grab something that she can eat. However, she quickly noticed that the vial's pressure was absent.Quickly grabbing a can of beans, she closes the door with a look of confusion, "Yeah, no I was right, that thing is definitely creepy as hell." After staring at the fridge for a minute, Marcy shook her head and walked back to the only comfortable place in her room, the mattress. Opening the can, Marcy eats the beans by tilting the can upward.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------In the ally outside of her home, Marcy started to walk at a normal place, not needing to limp any longer. Ever since she has had been in contact with the vial the night before she was healing at an unnatural pace. When Marcy checked her bruise before leaving her house, she was dumbfounded that it was gone and in its place was her pale skin back to its former "glory".While Marcy was thinking of the vial, her hands started to fidget in her jackets pocket. Marcy was starting to sweatEven though the sun was blazing overhead, the alley's shadows seemed to stretch deeper and darker than they ever did at night. The oppressive darkness of the alley felt almost tangible, an unsettling contrast to the bright sunlight above.The neon lights from the night before were switched off, but in return one could now vividly see the graffiti that layered the walls. As Marcy kept walking she eventually reached the point in the ally where the homeless congregated, and with a slightly quickened pace she kept walking while carefully watching her surroundings. 'Rather not get mugged again.'Marcy came face to face with the streets of Elaris. People passed by in a hurry to get to work 'I should have gone at a later time to avoid the work rush.' The cars passed by at high speeds with no real regard for the speed limits. 'Better not let the Wardens catch you. . . there all a bunch of sticks in mud.'Marcy starts to move into the bustling crowd of citizens toward the direction of the central plaza district of Elaris. As she passes through Feith's Corner, the east end of Elaris, she's enveloped in its vibrant, artistic atmosphere. The district, inspired by the charm of Italian Renaissance cities, dazzles with its rich palette of colors. The elegant buildings are adorned with ornate facades in hues of sunlit gold and soft terracotta, their arched doorways framed in deep emerald and cobalt blue. Colorful stucco exteriors in shades of coral, lavender, and aqua bring the streets to life, contrasting vividly against the clear azure sky above.Murals and sculptures in bold, vivid colors adding splashes of crimson, indigo, and ochre to the scenery. The bustling markets are a mosaic of vibrant stalls draped in fabric of jade green and sapphire, overflowing with unique crafts and handcrafted artworks. Cozy cafés and elegant pubs are painted in warm, inviting tones of amber and maroon, offering a relaxed ambiance where patrons sip drinks of rich mahogany and deep plum.The grand plaza, at the district's heart, is surrounded by arcades with golden arches and a sculptural fountain of shimmering silver and turquoise. Here, lively cultural events and public performances burst forth in a spectrum of colors, from the brilliant oranges and pinks of festival banners to the sparkling whites and blues of performance lights.Suddenly, Marcy stops and takes a moment to think. Her gaze drifts to an alleyway painted in soft pastels, its tranquility contrasting sharply with the vibrant chaos of the district. Intrigued, she turns right and walks down the quieter passage, her attention drawn to the subtle allure of the colors around her. Something was drawing her in, slowly prickling at her mind. She didn't know what it was, but she has learned to trust her instinct and it is telling her to follow the vivid colors that paint the alleyway.All the colors seemed to converge at the door of a quaint bookstore, drawing Marcy's gaze. The vibrant hues of the district seemed to channel their energy into this unassuming entrance. Marcy frowned, surprised by the bookstore's presence. "Odd... I never knew this was here. Granted, I don't come here often," she muttered to herself. Yet, a strong compulsion, almost magnetic, urged her to step inside.With a deep breath, Marcy hesitated for a moment before pushing open the door. A small bell chimed softly above her head, its gentle Ding echoing in the quiet space.Inside, the air was cool and tinged with the faint scent of old paper and ink. Shelves brimming with books of every conceivable genre stretched up to the high ceiling. The walls, painted in soothing shades of sage and cream, were lined with framed maps and intricate illustrations, each adding to the room's scholarly charm.Walking to the desk in the front of the store, Marcy glanced around for a few seconds before ringing another bell that was on the desk; However the bell released an extremely high ring DINGGGGggg!! This high pitch caused her to cover her ears in pain, "What the fuck.""Oh my, quite the foul mouth we have there, don't we?" a voice drawled from behind the desk. Marcy's eyes snapped back to see a man who hadn't been there a moment ago, now standing with an amused expression. He was of average height, with blonde hair that fell just shy of his shoulders, and a pair of teal eyes that sparkled with a hint of mischief.He offered her a sly smile, leaning casually against the counter as if he'd been waiting for her arrival all along. "I wasn't expecting anyone so... colorful today," he added, his tone dripping with amusement.Marcy staring at the store clerk asked "uhmmmmm, what does that mean. . . and why in the God's would you have a bell like that."The man simply tilted his head for a second and then smiled, "Oh you know, people like to say the world is black or white, but. . . that is simply not the case. Just by having white, you introduce a whole spectrum of colors in between.. . . And the bell is simply just coinvent."Marcy stared at him for a few seconds "Okay dude. Do you have any books on the churches."The man putting on a mischievous smirk started to tap his finger against the desk he was standing behind, "Well depend what your looking for, History? Culture? Art? Music? Affiliations? something. . . more specific?"' What would be best? Well I guess I need to look over the basics first, but what if thats not enough.' Marcy looked at the man and said "Anything would do really."the man points towards a single flight of wooden spiral stairs and says "Anything of that nature would be up there, but do remember this is a store, so don't leave without paying for anything. . .please.""Yeah, will do." 'Not like I was planning on buying anything anyway. . .I'm broker than a orc with child payments.'Reaching the top, Marcy found herself in a large loft-like area filled with the sunlight from a window larger than a van. there were wooden bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. Perhaps thanks to the sunlight there were plants dotted around giving the place a homely feel. In the corner of the loft laid a desk and chair. The air was thicker here, saturated with the scent of old paper and ink, and she could almost feel the weight of history pressing down on her. The shelves were crammed with books, some of them ancient-looking with worn leather covers, others newer.She took a deep breath and moved toward the first shelf, her fingers brushing lightly against the spines of the books. "History, culture, art, music, affiliations..." she murmured to herself, recalling the man's words. Each category represented a piece of the puzzle she needed to solve, but where to start?Marcy reached for a book titled The Foundations of Faith: A Short History of the Thirteen Primordial Gods and Ages. As she pulled it from the shelf, 'This seems like a good start.'She glanced back toward the staircase, half-expecting to see the man's smirking face peering up at her, yet she could still hear the rhythmic tapping of his finger against the desk. But the loft itself was quiet, and she was alone- opening to the first page Marcy braced herself for what she might find out today.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Elaris- pronounced (El-ler-is)