They rose late that cycle—though no dawn greeted them in this land of eternal twilight, the air carried a stillness, a weight that made time feel suspended.
Khoryv stood before the fire.
"No combat today," he said firmly. "Today you rest. You think. And you prepare."
They all nodded.
He turned to Lybid, eyes sharp. "And you—it's time. Speak with Rod. Ask Him how to weaken the seal. We cannot wait much longer."
She stepped away from the group and knelt beneath the roots of an ancient tree.
Clutching the Staff of Verdance, she closed her eyes and whispered into the dirt.
"Rod. Spirit of earth. Keeper of roots. I ask for your voice. What must I do?"
At first, nothing.
Then warmth surged into her chest. The staff pulsed. A familiar scene of her ancestors flashed, but she went beyond it.
A single, clear thought entered her mind:
"Pierce the core with a staff. All else… is mine." Voice reverberated from within the Earth, resonating from tree branches, leaves, bugs and all the living.
Her breath caught. Then she opened her eyes.
She returned to the fire, the others waiting.
"He said I have to pierce the seal with the Staff," she said quietly. "Nothing more. Nothing less."
Before anyone could respond, the forest trembled.
A cold wind brushed their spines.
And then—laughter.
A maniacal, feminine laugh, sharp as shattered glass and soft as silk, echoed from nowhere and everywhere.
It scraped across bark and bone, bounced inside skulls, curled beneath their thoughts.
Mara.
"So sweet," she whispered, voice amused and mocking. "So desperate. Do you think you can save this land? All you do… is quicken my waking."
Her voice echoed across the treetops, slithering through soil and stone.
Khoryv stood fast.
With a growl, he closed his fists.
His eyes burned—one green, one black—and the forest shook.
The connection snapped like dry twigs.
The laughter stopped.
Yurko spoke first, voice hollow. "Maybe 'She' is right. Maybe we should just wait. Let the Holy Army finish this." He glanced at Methodius, uncertain.
Khoryv shook his head. "No. Her will awakens more each day. You heard her. That laugh—it wasn't just a projection. She's pushing against the seal."
He looked at them all. "If we weaken it now, while she's still bound, still half-asleep, we can delay her fully waking. Once pierced, the light from purified river water can sanctify her with the roots. And while she sleeps… we will try to kill her."
He stepped closer to the fire.
"If we wait too long, her voice will not only echo—it will command."
Silence fell.
Then Kyi asked, hesitant, "Why not just go back to the cave? Sanctify her body. Or… destroy it. End it now."
Methodius raised his head.
"Because of the seal," he said calmly. "The Lord's blessing doesn't reach that deep. Not in full strength. The chamber blocks divine light. Prayers are not enough. And more importantly… if we strike her physical form now, it may cause her will to snap awake."
Lybid added, "Besides… she is the Goddess of Death."
She looked around at them all.
"Do you really think it'll be that easy to kill death?"
No one spoke.
The fire cracked.