>>6177673“I shall lead the way up,” you say, standing before the other entrance, the one leading upstairs. “Soralisa, what does your perception say?” You ask.
She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. Unlike you, she did not have her Sanction used up by the attack, thankfully. Next to you, the Asterite is also spinning her threads about, though she is doing so slower and with more effort than before.
Wonder what happens when someone like that clashes against a mightier Power. She was shaken and almost snapped by the fight against the rogue Third Seat — and the degenerating Asterite had a taste of the same when Ansàrra glanced his way.
She would need to recover after this.
You all would.
Closing your eyes, you perceive the hint of the guiding light you had Soralisa etch on your back — you have but one chance to use it.
The one that worries you a bit is, like always, Willow. She stands there, glancing at your friends, rubbing her hands together, the feather secured at her side. Whenever nobody is looking directly at her, she rubs at her chest, as if soothing an old wound. Perhaps the copper creature did scare her more than you think.
That’s when you decide that it’s time to comfort her.
You set your hands on Soralisa’s shoulders, giving her a soft squeeze, even if the white plates barely crinkle. This time you will all petition for the Sanction together.
“You will make it. After all, if we are here is by design. If you are here, is by design,” you remind her.
She nods, then opens her eyes.
“There is something upstairs, though I couldn’t perceive exactly what. The Asterite seems to be trying to fuse itself with the Temple, after a fashion. Perhaps he’s trying to escape. Perhaps it’s madness.”
“Like the Elves?” Willow quips, puffing out her chest, presenting herself just as confident as usual. Rubida, another one she couldn’t really fool, shares a worried look with you.
“You remember?”
[cont.]
