Chapter 12
The sanctuary was a maze of silence and silver light.
Elira walked its carved stone halls slowly, boots muffled on the polished floors. Moonblood healers moved past her like mist, silent, watchful, distant.
They didn’t hate her.
They feared what she brought with her.
Fire. Change. War.
Each step she took echoed louder than the last, as if even the stone resisted her presence.
Teaching Resistance
By midday, snow drifted lazily into the narrow training courtyard. Elira stood before ten young Moonblood girls, most dressed in prayer robes, some with beads clutched tightly in their hands. Their eyes reflected centuries of doctrine, obedience, quiet, healing.
Elira laid her staff down gently in the snow.
“You’ve been taught to heal. To hide. I honor that.”
Her golden mark
