Eloda fell silent, her gaze fixed on the stone floor of the shrine as her mind spiralled into thought.
The chamber's existence was never written in tomes or whispered in myth; it was a hidden relic of unimaginable power—an essence left behind by fallen gods. Eloda herself had refined the essence into a physical form and stored it in the chamber that radiated power.
Over the centuries, Eloda had used the essence sparingly, drawing from its strength to maintain her physical shell and conceal its presence from outsiders. The chamber lay beneath the very shrine where they now stood, protected by layers of enchantments and the vigilant watch of the tribe entrusted with its safekeeping.
A shiver went up her spine thinking about the power of the goddess and her perception, and she looked at Jolthar, thinking such a goddess showed an interest in the human child; it all made her head heat up.
