Meanwhile, back at the Coven, Stella stood before the temple altar, her gaze fixed on the sacred candle she had just ignited with her magic.
A warm, almost disbelieving smile curved across her lips as she slowly lowered her hand, keeping it close to her face while silently admiring the palm that had accomplished what generations before her could not.
For several long seconds, her eyes lingered on her hands as though she were seeing them for the very first time.
A whirlwind of emotions swirled within her eyes—wonder, disbelief, gratitude, and uncertainty—before she slowly closed them, allowing herself to absorb everything that had just happened.
According to Achiku, the temple had remained without light for several generations because the sacred flame could only be ignited by the chosen High Priestess.
Countless witches had waited for the day the altar would once again be illuminated, yet none of them had expected that the responsibility would fall upon Stella.
