Evadne didn't look back as we left the mess hall. She slowed slightly, and when I caught up, she threaded her arm through mine, steadying my pace.

  "Let's see the Prayer Room next. There's a nice view from the windows," she said, oblivious to my internal turmoil. "Then you can rest for the day."

  Both silent, we walked, surrounded by the noises and scents from the hall.

  *She didn't try to fix my blunder at the table.*

  *Instead, she shut me down, but why?*

  I tried to decipher Evadne's expression, but her reserved smile offered none of the answers I was looking for.

  After a while, she added, "You need to speak with the Highest Priestess first, before..." she paused, "...before you engage with this world."

  My breath grew shorter, the energy from the meal quickly fading. Tension returned to my muscles. But my mind raced.

  *I want answers.*

  *But I already asked her before, and she just ignored my question.*

  Evadne's serene profile, that unshakable composure - it was like a wall.

  And right then, I only had one tool to get past it: a hammer.

  It was a clumsy, desperate plan, but maybe if I could just chip that perfect facade, she would slip and give me a genuine answer.

  Deep breath. "Who told you I want to engage with anything in this world?"

  The light of dusk slipped through the windows in the hall, making curtains out of dust that smelled of dry incense. The orbs under the ceiling began to glow faintly.

  Her jaw tightened for a moment before her reserved smile returned. "Perhaps you don't. But Pandora has a way of guiding lost souls to where they need to be," she said as if the conversation was over.

  Words of a distant prayer were indistinguishable. The chanting grew louder with each step, fervent and rapturous.

  "That's assuming Pandora wants to guide me," I said more sharply. "Maybe she doesn't care."

  She glanced at me, her face still calm. Only a spark of irritation in her golden eyes betrayed her. She extinguished it quickly.

  For just a moment, the mask of the High Priestess slipped, but she played the same melody again. "Pandora is the Mother of All. She cares for all her children."

  *She hid behind Pandora again.*

  "She is skilled," Althea whispered like a conspirator. "She uses dogma to avoid your actual question, a classic deflection."

  Althea confirmed my fear. Dogma and deflection. They landed like a spark on dry tinder.

  I admired Evadne's composure, but Althea was right—it felt like another tactic. If I was just a pawn to her, I needed to know.

  *If necessary, I will shatter the mask hiding her true self.*

  The prayer grew louder as we neared the wide-open doors of the Prayer Room. Now or never. One more push. Direct, personal.

  "I met the knights, but you shut down the conversation before it even started, you didn't help me there," I said, looking away from her golden gaze. My fist clenched. "You walked me out like a dog on a leash." The words tasted like ash, more so because they were true.

  Evadne stopped. For a second, she stood perfectly still, her back to me. Then she turned deliberately. Her expression a mixture of disbelief and disappointment.

  "Is that how you perceive me, Otherworlder?" She said each word carefully.

  "You are quick to judge." She looked past me, down the hall.

  "You know nothing of this world." I flinched. "This should change."

  She measured me. "Are you ready to speak with the Highest Priestess properly now?"

  I had braced for a fight, for anger or cold authority. That, I could have handled. But disappointment? This bypassed all my defenses and struck right at the heart of my own insecurity.

  A warm pulse intensified on my wrist. "It's alright, Leonard. You don't need to feel foolish. You were just trying to understand," Althea whispered gently. "Her reaction is her own. It doesn't change your truth. Let it go. Just breathe. I'm here."

  *She was pushy from the start, but I guess, she also took care of me.*

  *Cared, steered, or both? Ah, just send me home...*

  I conceded out of pure exhaustion, preserving my strength, "I... well... Yes, p-please lead the way."

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  She immediately turned and resumed her walk, slowly enough for me to follow, but not close enough to walk by her side.

  "Evadne, w-wait," I said without previous bravado.

  "I am High Priestess Evadne," her cold reply cut the air. It was the first time I'd used her name without a title, and it felt like a desperate plea, but I only saw her back stiffen.

  I tried to catch up to her side, but quickly lost my breath.

  *What if she just left me here?*

  *Alone in this hallway, in this world.*

  "I... I apologize," I managed, fighting for breath. "That was unfair."

  *But you're not without guilt either, Evadne.*

  She didn't give any sign she had heard me. She walked steadily like before.

  *She should apologize too.*

  "I don't know who to trust," I confessed, the outspoken truth making me heavier.

  "It's just as you said. I know nothing about this world," I admitted. She didn't look at me, but her pace softened visibly, finally allowing me to catch up to her side.

  I couldn't see her face well when she murmured, "It is not a leash, Otherworlder. It is a hand you are refusing to hold. I hoped you would see the difference." Her soft regret hit me in places I didn't expect.

  We turned right at the next intersection and she stopped soon after.

  "Then ask the one person who cannot lie to you." She nodded toward the end of the long corridor. "The Highest Priestess is there." She bowed gently, her face the familiar mask I knew well. She turned around and immediately walked away, each step long and decisive.

  Her boots tapped on the floor in the dim hallway until she disappeared behind the corner. As I stood there, lost, a gentle warmth spread from the seal on my wrist—a soft, steady pulse. And with that quiet acceptance, I took the first step toward the room of the Highest Priestess Pythia.

  The silently buzzing orbs overhead were the only sound aside from my own weary steps. My mind raced despite my slow pace.

  *What now?*

  *What do I say?*

  *How do I face her?*

  My gaze fell to my feet on the stone floor.

  The pulse from the Guide's seal was slow and steady, the opposite of the frantic rhythm in my chest. "It's alright, Leonard. The High Priestess's care may be bound by sacred rules, but I'll always be on your side. We will go through this. I am here."

  Deep breaths until I recovered my balance. Until my racing heart slowed to match the calm pulse of the seal. Only then I looked up.

  I resumed my approach—back straight, eyes on the door at the end of the corridor, pace slow but steady. When I reached the door, I almost jumped at the sudden command: "State your business."

  It didn't come from the front, but from the side of the thick doorframe. A spot that had been empty a moment before. A silhouette wavered in the shadow, its form blurring into the wall. From that spot, the corridor was perfectly observed.

  His concealment was a trick of the light. An illusion woven into his very armor. It was no mail of steel or hardened leather, but a form-fitting carapace of interlocking, light-drinking scales. They mimicked the stone by consuming and warping the light around his form, refracting his silhouette into a shifting mosaic that defied focus.

  The result—like looking through a thousand pieces of shattered, smoky quartz—caused a faint dizziness when I tried to piece his figure together. All I could clearly locate were two narrow, faintly glowing green slits staring directly through me, and the faint mark on his wrist.

  *How many of them did I miss on my way here?*

  *Surely he's not alone.*

  Unease pushed me to reply promptly. "I'm the Otherworlder. I came to visit the Highest Priestess."

  Another quick command. "Show me your seal."

  I held out my right hand.

  He grabbed my arm just above the wrist, and our seals touched—making me dizzy for a moment.

  Althea remained silent, but three rapid, amber flashes pulsed from within his grip.

  With a soft, crystalline chime, the shifting facets of his armor locked into place, the light-warping illusion collapsing into a uniform, dull grey-black.

  Only then could I see its true nature: a suit of tight, overlapping scales that moved with unsettling fluidity. There were no ornaments or insignia. The only relief was at his wrist, where the amber pulse now centered between two familiar bright orbs.

  "Welcome, Otherworlder. Please wait a moment," the guard said politely. He quickly opened the door and slipped inside, not closing it completely. A conversation from within reached my ears.

  "...with all due respect, Highest Priestess, you can't keep him in the Temple forever." Fingers tapped nervously on wood. "The Royal Palace is uniquely positioned to nurture his potential to the fullest. His status can achieve great things there."

  Pythia's sharp reply followed immediately. "I have made my decision and given my justification." A moment of silence. The tapping stopped, and I heard a loud inhale, like a person readying for an argument. But Pythia cut him off, "It is final."

  Moment later she said not-so-patiently, "Why do you interrupt?"

  *Oof, poor guard, bad timing.*

  The guard said humbly, "The Otherworlder has arrived, Highest Priestess. Your orders?"

  A brief, tense silence.

  Finally Pythia said politely, like a different person. "Send him in."

  The guard returned and gestured toward the room with a deep bow. "Your presence is requested." With a whisper of displaced air, the scales on his armor unlocked, and the mosaic of refracted light bloomed across his form once more. He didn't step into the shadow; he became part of it.

  I walked in.

  There was a wide, wooden desk by the window in front of me. The desk had similar, faintly glowing engravings as the one in—huh—my room. It was oddly empty, only a single pen in the center. The tall chair with grey upholstery stood vacant behind the heavy wood.

  Pythia was sitting elegantly on the large sofa by the guest table—the quieter, more intimate side of the room. Her wide white robe contrasted with the red jewelry on her tattooed neck.

  The aroma of freshly brewed tea still lingered in the air, but the simple teacups on the table were empty.

  On the sofa opposite Pythia, a tall man sat rigidly, leaning slightly over the table.

  "Ah, Leonard. Come in, sit here," Pythia said, tapping the space near her on the sofa.

  The man rose to his feet, the sofa creaking sharply as he stood. He offered a formal salute, bumping his fist against the chest plate of his highly decorated armor. "Otherworlder. Legatus Argus, at your service." He measured me.

  "My pleasure, Legatus. I'm Leonard," I nodded slightly, unsure how to behave. "The guard said the Highest Priestess summoned me."

  Pythia didn't hesitate. "Thank you for your counsel, Legatus Argus. I will consider your suggestions. For now, please excuse us."

  The Legatus didn't reply right away, standing like a tower. "Thank you for your time," he finally said, "and I pray to Pandora you weigh this decision again. I believe the Palace's resources are necessary for the Otherworlder's full potential, Highest Priestess."

  He shifted his stern gaze to me. "Otherworlder, we can achieve great things once you're ready to leave these walls. May Pandora guide you." He executed a precise about-face and strode purposefully out of the door.

  The door closed silently behind him, and Pythia exhaled in relief. I walked toward the sofa and sat down next to her. Her rigid authority softened, replaced by a devastating calm. She didn't launch into a political speech; instead, she focused her silver gaze entirely on me.

  "I have questions"—I got ahead of her, and an amused smile filled her face.