Alishiera stood before the towering obsidian gates, her fingers trembling as she traced the ancient runes etched into the cold, black stone.
Her body was exhausted, her magic nearly drained from the battle with the first demigod, but she had no time to rest.
Devancier was inside. She could feel his presence, faint yet unwavering, as if his soul was calling out to hers.
The only way to reach him was through the forbidden spell, a prayer that no Saintess should ever dare to utter.
She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. She had learned of this spell in secret, hidden away in the depths of the Grand Cathedral's archives.
It was a forgotten prayer, one that sacrificed the caster's own blood and soul in exchange for immeasurable power.
A prayer so strong that it could overturn fate itself.
But it was a prayer that no true Saintess should ever use, for it defied the very essence of faith, offering oneself to darkness in order to grasp the light.
