A shadow by the altar stirred. From the darkness that should not exist, a woman stepped forth. HHer stride was calm, almost silent, yet she carried an aura so heavy the air seemed to part before her out of reverence, as if the world itself dared not obstruct her path. Behind her, ever-present, slid Shadow.
Veynessa halted, her gaze sweeping through the hall like a blade. For a moment, no one moved. The bodies of children nailed to crosses, their lifeless eyes placed atop their heads, and hollowed chests... It was a sight beyond words.
"So it's true," she thought. "My worst suspicions have been confirmed."
Her eyes flicked to the front of the spiral. There, on the closest crosses, hung Teren and the other children Sylphia had played with in recent days. Their small bodies limp, nailed to wooden crosses, with empty chests and gouged-out eyes, twisted in silent agony as if their souls had never been allowed to leave.
