The grand Tower of Pure Fire loomed before them, its white flames flickering against the sky like a beacon of hope. Yet as the Traveller approached, he couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of awe and apprehension. This was the heart of Rivendale, the source of its light and safety, but it also carried a weight—a power like this didn't come without a cost.
Cassandra led the way, her demeanor shifting as they neared the tower. "As part of the Church, our headquarters are next to the tower," she explained. "We'll take the Fell corpse inside for purification. Afterward, I'll introduce you to the rest of the Nightwatchers stationed here."
At the entrance, a pair of guards stood alongside a Maiden of the Purity, draped in pure white robes that seemed to glow in the tower's ethereal light.
"We have the body of a Fell," Cassandra said, her voice adopting a tone of reverence.
The Maiden of the Purity, her face expressionless, nodded slightly. "Please follow me."
They ascended the winding staircase to the top of the tower. The air grew warmer, charged with the strange energy of the white flame that blazed at the center. The Traveller's eyes widened as he caught sight of the great fire, its radiant light casting everything in a pure, almost surreal glow. This was the light that protected the city, the force that held back the spirit realm's corruption.
John opened the body bag and placed the Fell's corpse near the edge of the flame. Though John's own body remained untouched by the heat, the Fell's remains ignited almost instantly, engulfed by the fire in a heartbeat.
The Maiden stepped forward, clasping her hands together in prayer. Her voice was soft yet carried the weight of ritual: "Oh, Goddess, embodiment of true purity, arbiter of benevolent charity, and deliverer of ultimate salvation, we beseech your flame to purify that which is foul and evil."
The flames brightened, their light intensifying as the Fell's body burned. Waves of warmth radiated from the fire, and for a brief moment, the Traveller felt something strange—like the taint of corruption had been washed from his skin, as though the very air had been cleansed.
Cassandra stood beside him, her voice hushed. "The Flame of Purity transforms Fells into pure magic. It cleanses the taint and radiates from the tower to protect us."
But then something changed. The flames began to flicker erratically, dark specks appearing within the fire like blotches of ink spreading through a pristine canvas. A sense of dread crept in as the once-bright light dimmed, and the flames seemed to twist unnaturally.
"Amelia..." Cassandra's voice wavered, her usual confidence faltering as she stared at the Maiden of the Purity. She stopped, unsure of what to say next.
Amelia turned toward her, her expression is one of sorrow, and something darker—fear or despair. "It seems my time has come," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
Cassandra lowered her head, unable to meet Amelia gaze. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, thick with the weight of inevitability.
"There's still so much I wanted to do," Amelia continued, her voice growing faint. "I had hoped… you could save me." She glanced at Cassandra, her eyes full of betrayal, and a hint of anticipation at a miracle. But it was not to be.
Cassandra's lips tightened, and she looked away, her body stiff with discomfort. Amelia's gaze hardened as the guards approached, grabbing her by the arms. Her expression shifted to one of utter despair.
"Do it," she whispered.
Without hesitation, the guards dragged her toward the flame. The Traveller's heart pounded in his chest, unable to believe what was happening. Before he could process it, they threw her into the fire.
The scream that erupted from Amelia was unlike anything the Traveller had ever heard—raw, agonizing, and soul-wrenching. The flame licked at her, slowly at first, as if savoring her pain. Her once-beautiful skin melted away, her features distorting into a grotesque mask of suffering. Her voice, once the envy of many, turned hoarse and animalistic, a nightmarish screech that seemed to claw at the very soul. But her ordeal didn't end quickly. Her body, writhing in agony, reached out for escape, her arms desperately clawing at the edge of the flame, only to be shoved back in by the guards.
The Traveller could only watch in horrified silence. Lucian, too, was at a loss, his ethereal presence trembling. This was the price for purity. He had heard stories—tales of beautiful girls chosen from the outer districts, taken to serve the Goddess, to live at most a decade of unimaginable luxury before being consumed by the flame. They would be pamper, with many servants in their entourage, groomed to be best in everything they can from dance to poetry to cooking to swordplay.
It had seemed like a distant, almost romantic notion. The girls in the outer districts used to joke about it, dreaming of being chosen and living a life of pampered bliss, even if it meant a shortened one. Even Lucian had thought, once or twice, that such a fate would be preferable to struggling in the filth of Darkglades.
But now, seeing it firsthand—the gruesome reality of what those girls faced—it felt different. The storybook fantasy shattered. This wasn't a noble sacrifice. It was something else entirely.
When Amelia's final breath left her, the screams ceased, and her body finally stilled, blackened and lifeless in the flame. The room was silent, save for the soft crackling of the fire.
The Traveller, still dazed by what he had witnessed, could feel his stomach churn. This wasn't just a story anymore. This was real. The light that protected the city, the flame that kept the darkness at bay—it demanded this price. To maintain the Light of good, the good must be offered and destroyed in sacrifice.
"This... this is her sacrifice," she murmured, her voice hollow. "Without it, the world will fall into darkness and despair."
"I knew from the beginning, why she wanted to befriend me, she wanted a hope that I could save her just as... I've done for Sally." Cassandra let out a sigh, "but someone must do it, was it wrong for me to give her a little bit of hope, even if it is false?"
The Traveller just listened.
The guards bowed respectfully and turned away, leaving the charred remains of Lillia to the flame. Cassandra swallowed hard, composing herself as best she could.
"Let's go," she said quietly. "There's nothing more for us here."