Venn had visited exactly three Temples of Healing in her life: the one where she was born, the one where she trained, and now this one. The Valemark Temple managed to be both exactly what she expected and somehow completely different.

  The architecture was reckognisable: soaring arches that drew the eye heavenward, windows positioned to catch morning light and cast it across Helea's statue in, depending on how you viewed deities, ethereal patterns. The smell was familiar too: healing herbs mixed with incense and the quite undescribable combination of hope and worry that clung to places where people came to be mended.

  But where her home Temple outsider of Westkeep emphasized serenity through simplicity, Valemark's Temple had decided that more was better. Seven different architectural styles competed for attention, as if each of Valemark’s ruling Houses had insisted on adding their own wing. Tapestries depicting Helea's miracles hung next to banners displaying House colors. Even the prayer cushions came in seven distinct patterns.

  "Blessed Helea, guardian of the injured, lighter of the darkness that is pain," Venn whispered, kneeling at the first shrine they passed. The prayer came automatically, a comfort as familiar as breathing. "Grant wisdom to these hands that seek to heal."

  "Should we wait outside?" Reyn asked, shifting uncomfortably. The Bormecian looked hilariously out of place among the delicate furnishings, like a bear invited to a tea party.

  "No, please stay." Venn rose, already moving toward the next shrine. Each Temple had different prayer stations for Helea's various aspects. She couldn't skip any. That would be... disrespectful. "This won't take long."

  It took forty-five minutes.

  By the third shrine, Jarek had found a bench and was cataloging their remaining supplies in a small notebook he'd somehow acquired. By the fifth, Reyn had given up on standing and was sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed in what might have been meditation or a very upright nap.

  "Helea of the clear sight, grant that we may see injury truly, not merely its surface," Venn intoned at the seventh shrine, finishing the circuit. She felt better. Centered. Ready to face whatever medical mysteries awaited.

  "Acolyte?" A voice called from a doorway marked with the Rod of Helea. "Are you the one asking about the beast survivor?"

  The speaker was an older woman wearing the full Healer's regalia, though hers bore subtle embellishments that suggested years of service. Her face had the kind of lines that came from both smiling and frowning in equal measure.

  "Yes! Or, my friend here is. I'm Venn, Acolyte of the Westkeep Temple, currently walking the Path." Venn hurried forward, nearly tripping over her own eagerness. "These are my companions, Reyn and Jarek. We're investigating the beast."

  "Erma," the Healer said, eyeing Reyn's greatsword as if she was calculating how many different injuries it could cause. "Third Circle Healer, unfortunately assigned to what we're calling the Beast Ward. This way."

  They followed her through corridors that had been designed by people who couldn't seem to decide if they wanted to be austere or ostentatious. Plain stone walls gave way to elaborate murals, then back to simplicity, as if the Temple's builders had been having an ongoing argument.

  "How many victims have you treated?" Venn asked.

  "Seventeen over the past two months. Most recovered after standard treatment. Three required magical healing. One..." Erma paused at a door. "Well. You'll see."

  The room beyond was standard for long-term care: clean, well-lit, with colorful paintings making the otherwise dull walls somewhat interesting to look at for some minutes. The sole occupant sat hunched on his bed, arms wrapped around his knees.

  Venn's immediately catalogued the visible injuries. Multiple criss-crossing parallel scratches on his arms. Bite marks on his shoulder, the amount making it impossible to deduce the size of their maker. More scratches on his legs, visible through tears in his trousers that hadn't been properly mended.

  "This is Lander," Erma announced. "Student at Skyrise Tower. Imagine my surprise when I heard they sent a student, and nor an actual wizard."

  The young man looked up, and Venn saw what Erma meant. His injuries were healing well, but his expression suggested wounds that went deeper than flesh. He had the haunted look of someone who'd encountered the vast gap between theoretical and practical education.

  "I don't want to talk about it," he said immediately.

  "But you must!" Venn stepped forward, Healer instincts overriding social graces. "For proper treatment, I need to understand what made the wounds. See, these scratches here suggest a climbing motion, while these..."

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  "I said I don't want to talk about it!" Lander pulled his arms against his chest, hiding the marks.

  Reyn leaned against the doorframe. "What exactly were you studying? Theoretically?"

  "The creature," he mumbled. "For my thesis."

  A strange choking sound came from Jarek's direction. When Venn looked, he was studying his notebook with suspicious intensity.

  "And you thought the creature might be...?" Reyn's voice was carefully neutral.

  "It wasn’t consistent with documented cases!" Lander's voice rose defensively. "The territorial marking patterns suggested normal aggressive display behaviors!"

  "What did it look like?" Venn asked, trying to steer back to medical relevance.

  Lander mumbled something.

  "What?"

  "Magnificent," he said louder, then immediately looked like he wanted to sink through the floor. "I mean terrifying. Definitely terrifying. With the teeth. And claws."

  Venn opened her mouth to ask about the specific magnificent qualities, but Erma intervened. "Perhaps we should let Lander rest. He's been through quite an ordeal."

  "An ordeal," Lander agreed quickly. "Traumatic. Not at all what the literature pointed to."

  As they left the room, Venn's mind raced through the medical implications. The wound patterns were consistent with...

  "Don't," Erma said quietly. "Trust me. You don't want to know what conclusions you're reaching."

  "But from a healing perspective..."

  "From a healing perspective, some things are best left to natural recovery and selective memory. He is in good hands." Erma led them to a small office. "Though I can tell you where we found him, if that helps your hunt."

  She produced a map of the Valemark region, marking a spot without even looking. "Here. The old Millwright property, about six miles north. Been abandoned since the last succession dispute."

  "Abandoned property would make a good lair," Reyn mused.

  "Lair. Yes. That's what he was investigating." Erma's tone suggested a career spent not asking questions she didn't want answered. "There's a hunting party forming in two days. Several Houses are contributing their best trackers. You might want to coordinate with them."

  "Or get there first," Reyn said.

  "That would also work." Erma turned to Venn. "Not that I’d recommend it. Now, Acolyte. You're walking the Path?"

  Venn straightened, pride flooding through her. "Yes! I've already completed... well, I've started. This is my first official Temple visit."

  "Ah." Something shifted in Erma's expression. "And you're planning to attempt our Trial?"

  "Of course! I'm ready for whatever challenge Helea places before me."

  Erma and the two other senior Healers in the room exchanged glances that made Venn's stomach drop.

  "Our Trial is... particular," Erma said carefully. "Most Path-walkers choose to attempt it after gaining experience at other Temples. The Westkeep trial, as you’ve hopefully noticed, is quite straightforward. I would suggest going to Crownport first, before coming back."

  "I'm not afraid of difficulty," Venn said, chin rising.

  "It's not about fear." Erma seemed to be choosing her words like a surgeon selecting instruments. "It’s about experience. I can tell you only this: ours requires complete independence. You must complete it entirely alone. No companions, no assistance, no intervention."

  "Absolutely not," Reyn said immediately.

  "It's Temple law," Erma continued. "The Trial tests a Healer's ability to function without support. Many Path-walkers find it... challenging."

  "What kind of challenging?" Jarek asked, looking up from his notebook.

  "I cannot say. The nature of the Trial is revealed only to those who undertake it, at the moment it begins, as with most Trials." Erma's expression was sympathetic but firm. "I can tell you that it will last from moonrise to sunrise. You will be given instructions then, and only then."

  "So she's supposed to do some unknown task, at night, alone, with no idea what to prepare for?" Reyn's voice had dropped to the dangerous quiet that usually preceded violence, as Venn had learned.

  "Faith is not faith if you know what's coming," Erma said simply. "As I said, most choose to attempt other Trials first. Build up experience. Learn to trust in Helea's guidance, and in themselves."

  Venn felt something stubborn crystallize in her chest. They thought she couldn't do it. They saw her youth, her inexperience, her companions who fought her battles for her.

  "I'll do it," she said. "When do I start?"

  "Venn," Reyn warned.

  "Tomorrow night, if you insist." Erma sighed. "You'll present yourself at the Temple at sunset. Bring whatever supplies you think you might need. Wear practical clothing. The rest... you'll learn when the time comes."

  "Fine."

  "If you fail, you must provide proof that you are ready to attempt the Trial again. You get three tries in your lifetime."

  That made Venn pause. How would she prove she was ready... No, I won’t fail.

  "I accept the terms," she said.

  Reyn made a sound that might have been a growl. "This is foolish."

  "This is faith," Venn countered. "Helea will guide me."

  "Helea helps those who help themselves," Erma murmured. "I suggest spending the day in prayer and preparation."

  As they left the office, Venn's mind was already racing. What kind of Trial lasted all night? What healing challenges could require complete solitude? She needed to prepare for everything, which meant preparing for nothing specific.

  "You're not doing this," Reyn said flatly.

  "I am."

  "It's dangerous."

  "Everything we do is dangerous. You fought a room full of bandits. Alone."

  "That's different."

  "Why? Because you're a warrior and I'm just a healer?" Venn surprised herself with the bite in her voice. "I've been training for this my whole life, Reyn. This is my Path. My choice."

  Reyn fell silent, but her expression promised this discussion wasn't over. However, Venn noticed a slight smile.

  As they headed for the Temple's guest quarters, Venn caught herself praying at every shrine they passed. For wisdom. For strength. For the courage to face the unknown.

  Later, she would discover what Valemark's Trial demanded of her. Until then, she would pray and prepare as best she could for a challenge she couldn't begin to imagine.

  The Trial awaited, mysterious and daunting, and Venn would meet it. Alone.

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