Day...
I've lost count in this cult.
I stopped counting ever since they started naming days things like "Afternoon of Enlightenment Tea" or "Night of Equine Reflection."
Official calendar?
Scrapped.
Replaced by daily rituals of brewing tea from leaves that—
honestly—I'm pretty sure aren't tea leaves.
Maybe sandal leaves.
Or door leaves.
Every evening, they sit in a circle, chanting a song they claim is sacred—though the melody suspiciously sounds like a detergent jingle.
Mid-ritual, they pour tea into skull-engraved cups while whispering,
"This tea soothes the soul... and the large intestine."
And me? I sit on a "throne" that used to be a cracked plastic chair, wondering how the hell I can escape without inheriting the collective sin of this fever dream.
Then, a new problem emerged.
They started worshipping Valmor.
Yes.
Valmor.
A real horse.
Who now struts around the hallway pretending to be one of the cultists.
He wears a tattered robe—with a custom hole in the back for his tail.
Still walks like a horse.
Because he is a horse.
Two cult members whisper in the corner:
"Bro, is that a horse?"
"Shhh. Don't judge divine revelations by their shape."
Valmor looked at me from under his hood, wearing the kind of expression only a creature forced to coexist with morons can make.
"I swear, Aria," his voice echoed in my head, "I'm going to bite someone if this keeps up."
"Please bite the tea brewer. Start there," I replied, dead. inside
Things escalated when the cult, fired up with holy enthusiasm, started digging a massive hole in the temple courtyard.
They placed "sacred stones" around it—one of which still had a "garden sale discount" sticker on it.
Then they danced around the pit, chanting something that—
I'm fairly sure was just a corrupted version of a children's song.
"Call forth destruction~ from the skies and dirt~ with love and tea~ and morning aerobics~"
They called it: The Ritual of Summoning Destruction.
And of course, I was the "centerpiece." There was even talk of sacrificing a chicken, which was canceled last minute because "the chicken was too cute."
I was on the verge of fainting—out of shame, stress, and bad tea overdose.
So I did the only thing I could: I gave them a fake revelation.
"The world can only be saved if you all... DETOX. Eat fruit. Stop gnawing on chicken bones at midnight. And meditate every morning—wearing pastel colors."
Some of them wrote it down.
Seriously.
One even made a poster: "Destruction Yoga Club: Reaching Nirvana Through Stretching."
But before they could begin meditating with lavender candles—
TRUUUUUUUMPET!!!
A war horn echoed in the distance.I jolted upright. Valmor stopped chewing the tablecloth.
Footsteps. Screams.And then—the Astralis army emerged from the fog, gleaming armor and royal banners blazing.
"IN THE NAME OF THE KINGDOM OF ASTRALIS, YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST FOR ILLEGAL WORSHIP AND FALSE GODDESS CULT PRACTICES!"
The cult leader stepped forward in a panic.
"Wait! The Goddess of Destruction is here! SHE WILL SHOW YOU THE TRUTH—"
NOPE.
I dove to the ground, rolling dramatically, and screamed in the most distressed voice I could manage:
"PLEASE!!! I'M A VICTIM! I'M JUST A NORMAL WOMAN WHO GOT KIDNAPPED! THEY SAID I WAS A GODDESS!! I JUST WANTED A VACATION AND SOME SWEET TEA!!!"
The soldiers stared.
Pause. Silence.
Then one of them said,
"Dear heavens. Someone help this poor woman!"
Valmor was led away by two guards as a "horse witness."
Some cultists fled. The rest?
Let's just say... the world won't be running out of fertilizer anytime soon.
And then
I sat on a royal cart, wrapped in a blanket, being carried like some hero freshly rescued.
The night sky was calm. Way too calm, considering the nonsense that just went down.
"Kidnapped, worshipped, misunderstood... and now, rescued.I don't know if this counts as a promotion or a downgrade."
Valmor looked at me.
"But their tea was kinda good," he said casually.
I sighed.
"I swear I'm throwing you off a cliff one day."