Chapter 36 – When Prayer Fails
The sacred flames burned unevenly.
What should have been a steady corona of holy fire—ringing the dome above the altar in a perfect circle—now sputtered in staccato pulses, like a candle choking on its own wax. The carved runes in the obsidian walls glowed faintly, their lines no longer humming in harmony but... discordant.
Prexie Ash stood at the altar in silence, her robes the color of dried blood and soot. Her hands were raised, palms outward, fingers crooked in a rite meant to steady the sacred breath of flame. But the fire did not answer.
Her lips moved in soundless prayer. She did not blink.
The assembled sisters knelt behind her in rows of shadowed reverence, their heads bowed low, their veils trembling in the shifting heat. And still—the flame flickered.
Then came the footsteps.
Not rushed. Not hesitant. Just quiet. Controlled. A whisper made flesh.
Prexie Echo stepped into the dome like a question slipping beneath a locked door. She wore no shoes—her bare feet moved soundlessly over the blackstone mosaic, each step sending faint pulses across the floor's ink-lined wards. The mask she wore was silver and narrow, split down the center by a single crack.
"Ash," she said softly. "We have a problem."
Ash lowered her hands.
The flames dimmed further—almost as if relieved.