The temple walls whispered of age—stone etched with stories long buried in time, yet firm beneath their feet.
Kyle glanced around warily as they made their way deeper into the structure.
Despite its age, the place hadn't crumbled. In fact, it stood sturdier than most castles he'd seen, as though its creators had poured more than just stone and mortar into its construction.
Silvy paused, fingers brushing against the mural of a silver tree painted on the wall.
"My mother was the last temple maiden. She used to bring me here when I was little. She said that one day, I'd take over."
She said quietly.
Kyle's gaze lingered on her profile.
"But you didn't."
"No. After the curse spread, everything changed. I had to survive. I took up work, tried to find remedies, food, shelter—anything. I abandoned the temple because I thought it wasn't important anymore."
She smiled faintly.
