The space was vast. A massive chamber made from ancient stone, each slab heavy with age and memory.
No form of natural light managed to seep through its sealed vaults.
The only sources of illumination were the candles in gilded candelabras of gold and silver, spaced in a precise pattern—between pillars, high up at the edges of the wall, and sometimes directly on the very floor.
Their flames flickered gently, casting shifting shadows that danced across the room's surfaces. An intricate design—an artistry born from careful planning—gave rise to a symbol: the rendering of a chalice formed entirely from shadow and light.
The chalice overflowing with liquid fire.
Gloria murmured to herself as she walked, the sound of her footsteps echoing faintly through the stone chamber.
