Rovan pressed his hand against the stone gate, frustration boiling in his chest. The shimmering runes mocked him, glowing faintly but refusing to grant him entry.
As he prepared to strike the gate in anger, a soft rustling behind him made him turn. A figure cloaked in white stood a few paces away—a Silent Sister. Her face was hidden by her hood, but the air around her was calm, almost serene.
"You wish to enter," she said, her voice quiet but clear.
Rovan nodded. "Yes. I need to speak to the children. I need answers."
The Silent Sister tilted her head slightly, as if weighing his resolve. "The sanctuary does not allow those tainted by the outside world to pass. You must first undergo the purification."
"Purification?" Rovan frowned. "What does that mean?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she gestured for him to follow.
The Silent Sister led him to a small, circular chamber made of smooth stone. A single beam of light poured in from a hole above, illuminating a shallow basin filled with shimmering water.
"Step in," she instructed, her voice emotionless.
Rovan hesitated. The water looked strange, its surface rippling as though alive. But he had no choice. Steeling himself, he stepped into the basin. The moment his feet touched the water, an icy chill shot up his spine.
"What is this?" he asked, his voice trembling.
"Purification," she repeated.
The Silent Sister began to chant softly. The runes etched on the walls glowed faintly, and Rovan felt a strange pull deep within him. His breath hitched as an invisible force began to draw something from him.
His blood.
Rovan clutched his chest, his strength draining rapidly. He could feel the energy leaving his body, flowing into the shimmering water beneath him. His vision blurred, and his knees buckled.
"I... I can't stand," he gasped.
"Do not resist," the Silent Sister said.
Rovan's instincts screamed at him to fight, but his body was heavy, too heavy to move. He sank to his knees, then collapsed entirely, his cheek pressed against the cold stone. The water around him swirled with a faint red hue, his blood mingling with its glow.
"What... are you... taking?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
The Silent Sister's chanting grew louder, the runes blazing with light. Rovan's thoughts grew sluggish, his eyelids fluttering. The world around him dimmed until he could barely feel the stone beneath him.
When the chanting stopped, silence enveloped the chamber. The Silent Sister stood over Rovan, her hooded face unreadable.
"Rest," she said softly. "The purification is complete."
Rovan tried to move, but his limbs wouldn't respond. Every muscle in his body felt like lead, his strength utterly drained.
He stared at the ceiling, the beam of light above now blinding. The shimmering water beneath him was clear once more, as if nothing had happened. But Rovan knew better.
His voice was a hoarse whisper. "What... did you do?"
The Silent Sister didn't answer. She stepped away, leaving Rovan alone in the chamber, unable to move, unable to understand the full cost of what had just been taken from him.
Rovan opened his eyes slowly, his body aching as if he had fought a battle he didn't remember. The ceiling above him was unfamiliar—smooth stone etched with faint patterns of swirling runes. He tried to sit up, his muscles protesting with every movement.
"Where...?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.
He was in a small, bare room. A single narrow bed was the only furniture, and a tiny window let in soft, filtered sunlight. The last thing he remembered was collapsing during the purification ritual. How had he gotten here?
With a groan, Rovan swung his legs off the bed and stood, swaying slightly before steadying himself. His clothes were still damp from the ritual, and the faint scent of the strange water clung to him.
He pushed open the wooden door and stepped out into a quiet hallway. The stone floors were smooth under his feet, and the air carried the faint hum of silence that seemed to define the Silent Sisters.
Rovan wandered the corridors, his boots echoing softly against the stone. He saw the sisters moving through their routines—tending to gardens, carrying baskets of herbs, and whispering chants under their breath.
But the children were nowhere to be found.
"Where are the kids?" he muttered to himself, his unease growing with every step.
He stopped one of the sisters, a woman cloaked in white like the others. "The children," he said, his voice firm. "Where are they?"
The sister didn't respond. She merely bowed her head slightly and continued walking, as if he hadn't spoken.
Frustration bubbled within him, but Rovan knew shouting wouldn't help. He quickened his pace, moving through the sanctuary with purpose. If they wouldn't tell him, he'd find the children himself.
Rovan turned a corner and froze.
In a small, secluded courtyard, a child stood alone, their hands raised. A soft golden light emanated from their palms, swirling in intricate patterns that danced in the air. The glow illuminated the child's face, their expression calm but distant, almost as if they were in a trance.
"Hey!" Rovan called, stepping closer.
The child didn't respond. The light from their hands grew brighter, more intense, until it was almost blinding. Rovan shielded his eyes, his heart pounding.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
The child's lips moved, but no sound came out. The golden light expanded, forming a sphere that hovered above their hands. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the light vanished.
The child swayed, their knees buckling, and Rovan rushed forward to catch them.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice urgent.
The child blinked up at him, their eyes unfocused. "They... showed me the stars," they whispered, their voice barely audible.
"Who?" Rovan pressed, but the child's eyes fluttered shut as they slipped into unconsciousness.
Rovan's grip on the child tightened, his mind racing. This wasn't normal. The light, the trance, the cryptic words—something was deeply wrong.
Rovan carried the child through the sanctuary, his eyes scanning for anyone who might explain what was happening. But the sisters avoided him, their faces hidden beneath their hoods, their silence unbroken.
Finally, he stopped in the middle of the courtyard and shouted, "I need answers! Now!"
The sisters paused in their tasks, their heads turning toward him in unison. The sight sent a chill down his spine.
One sister stepped forward, her hood casting a shadow over her face. "The children are learning their purpose," she said simply.
"What purpose?" Rovan demanded. "What are you doing to them?"
The sister didn't answer. Instead, she pointed back toward the chamber where the purification ritual had taken place.
"The answers you seek lie within," she said, her voice eerily calm.
Rovan's jaw tightened as he stared at the silent woman. He didn't trust her, but he knew he couldn't leave without understanding the truth.
Cradling the unconscious child in his arms, Rovan turned and walked back toward the chamber, his heart heavy with questions and the weight of the unknown.
Rovan carried the child through the quiet corridors, his heartbeat echoing in his ears. The sister's words gnawed at his mind: The answers you seek lie within. What did that mean?
He reached the large, ornate doors of the chamber. The runes on the door glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat. A shiver ran down his spine.
"Again?" he muttered under his breath.
He placed the child gently against the wall and stepped closer to the door. The faint hum of energy radiating from it made his skin prickle.
"Open," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly.
The doors creaked open, revealing the chamber inside. The air was heavy, thick with an otherworldly energy. The runes carved into the floor and walls pulsed with light, shifting between red and gold.
Rovan hesitated at the threshold, the weight of the space pressing against him like an invisible force.