As the carriage came to a slow halt before the grand inn, the creaking of its wooden wheels and the rhythmic clopping of hooves against the cobblestone streets were drowned out by the deep, solemn chime of a distant bell tower. It echoed through the crisp evening air, each toll resonating with a sacred reverence that sent shivers down my spine.
We had arrived at a place unlike any other—a town steeped in devotion, where faith was as tangible as the air we breathed.
The moment we stepped out of the carriage, the atmosphere itself felt different. There was an undeniable weight to the silence that draped over the town, a kind of solemn peace that settled deep into the bones. The streets were pristine, lined with marble archways carved with intricate symbols of divine worship. Towering spires reached toward the heavens, their gilded tips catching the fading light of the sun, making it seem as if they were ablaze with ethereal fire.
Lucian grunted as one of the boys—Callen, I think—helped him down, his arm still bound in a sling. Alaria stretched, her crimson hair catching the golden glow of the street lanterns. "Feels weird, doesn't it?" she murmured, her voice lower than usual. "Like we just walked into a place where they can smell sin on us."
Elaris walked beside me, her lavender eyes scanning the grand structures before us with quiet reverence. "This is no ordinary place," she said softly. "We're in the heart of the faith—the Sanctuary of the Eternal Flame."
I knew the name. Everyone did. It was the seat of the Divine Children—the eternal beings said to be direct manifestations of the gods' will. Even back when I was young, before Rift magic and Veylara's whispers, I had heard tales of them, of their unmatched power and unwavering virtues.
We started forward, making our way down the wide stone-paved road leading toward the heart of the city. Devout followers in white robes walked in clusters, their heads bowed in prayer, whispering hymns that sent an eerie yet beautiful hum through the streets. Candles flickered in golden sconces along the pathways, their flames untouched by the wind.
A sense of reverence settled over our party, even over Alaria, who had a tendency to scoff at holy matters. For once, she seemed quiet, thoughtful.
"This place is home to the Seven Divine Children," Elaris explained as we walked. "They are eternal—unchanging. Guardians of the gods' will, living in this world but untouched by time."
I listened, absorbing her words as my eyes traced the massive, stained-glass murals embedded in the great cathedral looming at the center of town.
The Seven Divine Children
1. Ardrel, the Radiant Shield
He was depicted as a towering figure clad in silver-white armor, his hands outstretched as if warding off an unseen force. A luminous shield of golden light surrounded him, unbreakable and eternal. His virtue was protection, and it was said that in times of great peril, his barriers could shield entire cities from devastation.
2. Serienne, the Voice of Grace
A serene figure clad in flowing robes, her hands cupped as if cradling an unseen burden. The glasswork around her shimmered with an iridescent glow, giving the illusion of a soft radiance. Her virtue was compassion—the ability to heal, to mend, to bring solace to even the most tormented souls.
3. Veloras, the Blade of Judgement
A warrior wreathed in ethereal fire, his face obscured by a hood of light. His sword was raised, poised to strike, its blade splitting darkness in two. Justice was his domain—unyielding, absolute. It was said that none could lie in his presence, that his mere gaze unraveled deceit and corruption.
4. Aelira, the Eternal Flame
She stood at the center of a burning pyre, yet her expression was one of serenity. The fire that engulfed her was not meant for destruction but for purification. Her light was both a blessing and a warning—to burn away sin, or to reduce the wicked to ash.
5. Thaldrin, the Keeper of Wisdom
His mural was unlike the others—an endless library stretched behind him, golden threads weaving through the books, linking them together. He was said to possess knowledge beyond mortal comprehension, his touch capable of unlocking hidden truths. His virtue was wisdom, and those who sought him did so in pursuit of understanding.
6. Calessyn, the Heart of Valor
A warrior mid-battle, his blade raised, a sea of warriors behind him, emboldened by his presence. He was courage incarnate, the strength that turned fear into resolve, the fire that ignited heroism in the hearts of men.
7. Eryndis, the Weaver of Fate
Her presence was the most enigmatic. She was draped in silver threads, her hands moving as if weaving an unseen tapestry. Destiny was her domain, the unseen force that nudged history along its intended path.
I exhaled, my breath misting slightly in the cool evening air.
"So these are the beings that rule this place," I murmured. "The ones the people worship."
Elaris nodded. "And they never change. They have been here since the beginning, untouched by time. No matter what happens in the world, they remain the same."
I frowned at that, my fingers twitching at my sides. Something about that bothered me.
Never changing… never moving forward.
Veylara's voice slithered through my thoughts, honey-smooth yet laced with venom. "Does it disturb you, Noctis?" she purred. "These beings, so revered, so beloved—yet stagnant. Unwavering in their purpose, their will, while you—you—are left to struggle, to suffer, to decay with time."
I clenched my jaw, shaking off the thought. Now wasn't the time for this.
"Let's find an inn," I muttered. "Then we can figure out why we're really here."
Lucian, who had been unusually quiet since our arrival, let out a low whistle. "Not sure about you all, but I have no plans of getting tangled up with the divine."
Alaria snorted. "Afraid of a little holy fire, Lucian?"
"Afraid of involvement," he corrected, rubbing his injured arm. "Power like this doesn't come without a price. And those who play too close to the gods tend to burn."
I didn't say anything.
Because deep down, I already knew that.
The moment we stepped into the town, an unnatural stillness settled over me. The streets were pristine, almost too perfect, the cobblestone roads laid with precision, the white-stone buildings immaculate under the midday sun. The banners of the Sanctuary of the Eternal Flame fluttered gently in the breeze, their golden embroidery catching the light as if woven from pure divinity itself.
It felt wrong.
Elaris walked beside me, her lavender eyes glancing around with quiet reverence. Alaria, on the other hand, looked like she was about to burst into flames just from being here. Her emerald eyes flickered with barely concealed irritation, her fingers twitching toward the daggers at her hips.
"This place is too clean," she muttered, her voice laced with suspicion. "And way too quiet."
She wasn't wrong.
People moved through the streets in silence, their expressions serene yet distant, their gazes avoiding us entirely. Even the air itself felt heavier, thick with a presence I couldn't quite place—something suffocating, pressing against me like an invisible weight.
Then there was the real problem.
Veylara stirred inside me the moment we entered the town. Her presence coiled in the depths of my soul, sharp and knowing. "Do you feel it, dear Noctis?" she whispered, her voice carrying a silken amusement. "The weight of their prayers? The stench of divinity?"
I clenched my jaw. "Be quiet."
"But why?" she cooed, her tone teasing, yet undercut with something darker. "You're standing in a place that would see you burned alive if they knew what lay within you. Every step you take here is a risk, dear seraph. Do you really think they wouldn't sense it? The Rift, the Void, me?"
A chill crawled down my spine.
She was right. I could feel it now—whispers, lingering eyes, the slow realization that the clergy and the devout were taking notice of me.
And they knew.
We stopped in front of the Sanctuary of the Eternal Flame, the grand cathedral towering above us like a monument to divine authority. Its massive doors were etched with the seven sacred symbols of the Divine Children, each one glowing faintly as if the carvings themselves pulsed with holy energy. The moment I laid eyes on them, a shudder ran through me.
The Seven Divine Children.
Ardrel, the Radiant Shield. The unwavering guardian of the faithful.
Serienne, the Voice of Grace. The saint of compassion and mercy.
Veloras, the Blade of Judgment. The executioner of corruption and lies.
Aelira, the Eternal Flame. The embodiment of purity.
Thaldrin, the Keeper of Wisdom. The all-knowing sage.
Calessyn, the Heart of Valor. The fearless beacon of courage.
Eryndis, the Weaver of Fate. The one who sees and guides destiny itself.
Even their names made my skin crawl.
Their presence was palpable, lingering in the air, woven into the very foundation of the town. I could feel it like a pressure against my ribs, something watching, judging, waiting for me to make a misstep.
Elaris let out a quiet sigh beside me. "I never thought I'd come to this place…" her voice was soft, almost reverent.
I turned to her, narrowing my eyes slightly. "You know of it?"
She nodded, running a hand along the hem of her sleeve. "All clerics are taught about the Sanctuary. It's said that the Divine Children still walk among the people here, guiding the faithful. They say their presence is absolute… unquestionable."
I almost scoffed. "Unquestionable." That was one way to describe blind obedience.
Alaria shifted uncomfortably, crossing her arms. "So, what? You guys wanna go in? Bow our heads and pray?"
"We should at least gather some information," Lucian interjected, adjusting the sling over his injured arm. "If there's anywhere that knows about ancient ruins, it would be here. The Divine Children are said to have knowledge of all things sacred and forbidden."
I swallowed hard at that.
Sacred and forbidden.
What were the chances that Veylara's name had ever been spoken in this place?
Veylara chuckled in my mind, low and knowing. "Oh, I assure you, dear Noctis, they remember me. They remember me very well."
The moment we stepped through the grand entrance, a heavy silence fell over the group.
The cathedral was impossibly vast. The ceiling stretched high above, adorned with golden murals depicting divine battles, holy ascensions, and the Seven Divine Children standing in perfect harmony. Light streamed through enormous stained-glass windows, casting shimmering hues of red, blue, and gold across the marble floors.
At the very center, a massive brazier burned with a flame so brilliant it was almost blinding.
Aelira's Eternal Fire.
As I gazed into its depths, my stomach twisted.
The flame flickered, almost unnaturally, shifting, warping—then for a fraction of a second, it turned black.
I stiffened.
Then it was gone.
No one else seemed to notice.
"They see you." Veylara's voice was almost playful. "They know what you are. What you carry."
A priest dressed in flowing white robes approached us, his face serene, yet his eyes… something about his gaze sent ice down my spine.
"Welcome, travelers," he greeted, his voice as smooth as still water. "The Eternal Flame sees all. What brings you before its light?"
I forced a polite smile. "We're travelers on a journey across the great continents. We heard of the Sanctuary's wisdom and hoped to seek guidance about ancient ruins—particularly those of great historical significance."
The priest's expression didn't change, but I swore I saw something flicker behind his eyes.
"Ancient ruins," he repeated slowly, as if testing the words on his tongue. "Knowledge of the past is not given freely. But perhaps, the Divine Children will see fit to grant you their wisdom… if your intentions are pure."
I felt a sharp pulse of Rift energy within me.
Pure?
If only they knew.
The priest turned, motioning for us to follow deeper into the cathedral.
"Come," he said. "Let us see if the Divine Children will grant you an audience."
As we followed him through the great hall, every instinct in me screamed that this was a mistake.
And Veylara?
She just laughed.