As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the Windorian plains, the entire community came alive with celebration. The aftermath of the hunting season event was marked not by solemnity but by jubilation—an outdoor feast that seemed to stretch endlessly across the sprawling fields.
Bonfires crackled merrily, their flames dancing wildly against the darkening sky, illuminating smiling faces and animated gestures. Liora, who had been met with suspicion and cold stares just a day ago, now found herself surrounded by warmth and camaraderie.
It was as if the people of Windoria possessed two distinct personalities—one reserved for outsiders, and another reserved for those who proved themselves worthy.
She adapted quickly to the change in atmosphere, allowing herself to enjoy the festivities without reservation. Plates piled high with food circulated freely among the crowd, accompanied by jugs of potent brews that loosened tongues and encouraged laughter.
Music filled the air—improvised melodies played on flutes and drums—and soon everyone was drawn into spontaneous dances around the bonfire. Even the generals joined in, though each approached the revelry in their own unique way.
Generals Khanzar Bold and Jargal Noyon were impossible to miss, their boisterous energy fueling the party's liveliest moments. They sang loudly off-key, clinking tankards together before downing them in one gulp.
Their movements became increasingly erratic as the night wore on, fueled by copious amounts of alcohol. At one point, Khanzar attempted an impromptu wrestling match with a fellow hunter, only to collapse laughing halfway through.
Jargal wasn't far behind, his booming voice carrying over the din as he regaled listeners with exaggerated tales of his exploits during the hunt. Neither man bothered to maintain any semblance of decorum; they reveled fully in the moment, their reputations secure after their impressive performances earlier that day.
In contrast, General Temujin Suren opted for a more subdued form of participation. Seated cross-legged near the fire, he swayed gently to the rhythm of the music while occasionally sipping from a modest cup of ale.
His demeanor remained composed, even as the festivities grew louder and more chaotic around him. Yet, there was no mistaking the faint curve of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips—a rare glimpse of satisfaction beneath his otherwise stoic exterior.
General Batu Erden stood apart from the chaos, his vigilant gaze scanning the gathering with practiced precision. He remained close to High Chief Altan, whose presence commanded respect despite his advanced age.
Altan himself made a valiant effort to join in the revelry, nodding his head rhythmically and attempting a few tentative steps in time with the music.
However, his frail frame betrayed the limitations of his years, forcing him to abandon the dance floor after only a few awkward attempts. Still, his cheerful disposition never wavered, and he laughed heartily whenever someone teased him about his lack of coordination.
Elowen, meanwhile, maintained her characteristic composure throughout the evening. While others indulged freely in drink and song, she kept a watchful eye on Liora, ensuring the young mage didn't become overwhelmed by the sudden outpouring of affection.
Her mind, however, was already drifting toward the next phase of their mission. As she sipped idly at a goblet of spiced cider, she muttered under her breath, "I hope they haven't forgotten about the trial Liora needs to undergo."
Though her words went unheard amidst the clamor, her concern lingered like a shadow over the otherwise joyous occasion. The feast continued unabated until dawn, transforming the quiet night into a cacophony of snoring bodies scattered across the field.
General Khanzar sprawled unceremoniously on a patch of soft grass, his snores echoing like distant thunder. Nearby, General Jargal lay sprawled atop a pile of blankets, his limbs splayed haphazardly as he succumbed to exhaustion.
General Temujin, too weary to make it back to his assigned ger, dozed off nestled among the straw intended for the horses. Only General Batu retained enough clarity to escort High Chief Altan safely to his quarters, ensuring the elderly leader was settled comfortably before retiring to his own post.
When morning broke, sunlight bathed the Windorian encampment in a golden hue, revealing a scene of peaceful disarray. Most residents remained fast asleep, their bodies sprawled where fatigue had overtaken them.
Those who stirred groggily cursed the lingering effects of the previous night's indulgence, clutching their heads as waves of nausea threatened to overwhelm them.
The gers stood silent and still, their occupants either unconscious or too exhausted to rise. For hours, the camp existed in a state of suspended animation, its inhabitants slowly rousing themselves as the afternoon sun began to climb higher in the sky.
Just before sunset, the mood shifted dramatically as preparations were made for a private meeting within High Chief Altan's ger. Only a select few remained present: Liora, Elowen, Altan himself, and General Batu, who stood guard beside the aging leader.
The interior of the ger was dimly lit, the flickering light of oil lamps casting long shadows across the woven walls. Altan cleared his throat softly, drawing the attention of those gathered.
"Congratulations, Miss Liora," he began, his voice warm yet authoritative. "Your victory in this year's hunting season competition was no ordinary feat. With it, you have earned not only the respect of our hunters—including the esteemed generals—but also the right to pursue the purpose of your visit here."
Liora bowed her head slightly, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Thank you so much, High Chief Altan. It has been an honor to gain the acknowledgment of everyone here. But what about you, High Chief? Do you acknowledge me as well?" Her question hung in the air momentarily, tinged with uncertainty.
Altan chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I never doubted your abilities in the first place, my dear. I merely fulfilled what my soldiers and traditions demanded of me." Liora's eyes widened in surprise, processing this revelation for the first time.
Before she could respond further, Elowen interjected, her tone laced with curiosity. "High Chief, when will Liora take her trial?" Altan took a measured sip of his tea, savoring the warmth before answering.
"This midnight, General Batu will escort both of you to the secret location where the remnants of Saint Lux Windoria are preserved. We shall depart discreetly to avoid causing unnecessary commotion among the citizens."
"Moreover, the location must remain hidden—it is known only to myself, previous High Chiefs, and General Batu." Elowen nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the explanation. "Why does it have to be at midnight specifically?" she pressed, seeking clarification.
Altan leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. "To minimize attention and ensure secrecy. Fewer prying eyes are awake at such an hour, making it easier to safeguard the site."
Satisfied with the reasoning, Elowen and Liora exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the wisdom behind the decision. Altan concluded the meeting with a final message.
"Prepare yourselves accordingly. General Batu will arrive at your ger shortly before midnight, and from there, we shall proceed to the designated location. In the morning, I will relocate the citizens to a new settlement, ensuring they remain unaware of your whereabouts. May you find what you seek."
Both women bowed deeply in gratitude, murmuring heartfelt thanks. Altan simply smiled, replying humbly, "I merely fulfill the duties entrusted to me by my ancestors—for the good of Windoria and our race."
With that, he excused himself, leaving Elowen and Liora to return to their ger and begin preparations. The hours leading up to midnight passed quietly, the encampment cloaked in darkness save for the occasional flicker of lamplight emanating from within the gers.
Just as the clock struck eleven-thirty, three soft knocks echoed against the fabric walls of Elowen and Liora's ger. They opened the door cautiously, careful not to disturb the fragile silence enveloping the area.
General Batu awaited them outside, his figure barely discernible in the dim moonlight. Without uttering a word, he gestured for them to follow, leading them away from the main cluster of gers and toward a small hill dotted with tall grasses.
Three horses stood tethered patiently at the base of the incline, their breath visible in the cool night air. Mounting the steeds swiftly, the trio embarked on a journey into the unknown.
The ride lasted approximately half an hour, taking them through wide grasslands, rolling hills, and dense woods until they arrived at a vast field dominated by unusually tall grasses.
These towering blades formed a natural barrier, encircling the area like a protective fence. Within this verdant enclosure stood a solitary stone structure—a circular platform etched with intricate carvings that shimmered faintly under the starlit sky.
Its height reached waist-level, while its diameter rivaled that of a carriage wheel, creating a striking centerpiece amid the otherwise unremarkable landscape.
Batu motioned for Liora to approach the stone. "Please step onto it and sit cross-legged," he instructed calmly, his voice steady despite the tension permeating the air.
Liora hesitated, glancing nervously at Elowen. "I'm afraid of this trial, Elowen," she confessed, her voice trembling slightly. "Something feels… off." Elowen moved closer, wrapping her arms around the younger mage in a reassuring embrace.
"Trust yourself, Liora," she whispered firmly. "You're not the same girl we met at the beginning of this journey. You've grown stronger, braver. Believe me—you can overcome this too." With renewed resolve, Liora nodded and climbed onto the stone, positioning herself as directed.
She glanced at Batu for confirmation. "Like this, General?" she asked tentatively. He nodded approvingly, retrieving a water pouch from his belt.
"Begin channeling mana to your staff, Miss Liora," he commanded, pouring water methodically over the stone's surface. The liquid pooled briefly before seeping into the ancient carvings, causing them to emit a faint luminescence.
Once satisfied, Batu stepped back and turned to Elowen. "Let us wait near the gate, Miss Elowen," he suggested respectfully. She complied, trailing behind him as they retreated to a safe distance.
Glancing back at Liora one last time, Elowen's brow furrowed with worry before she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.
Moments later, the carvings on the stone erupted into brilliant light, bathing the surrounding area in an ethereal glow. A sudden gust of wind swept through the field, bending the tall grasses violently left and right.
When the breeze subsided, the arched entrance formed by the grasses vanished entirely, replaced by a flat circular wall enclosing the space. Elowen gasped audibly, panic creeping into her voice. "What just happened? Is this normal?" she demanded, gripping her voodoo doll tightly.
Batu placed a calming hand on her shoulder, retrieving a thick mat from his horse. "It's alright, Miss Elowen. This simply means the trial has begun." Spreading the mat on the ground, he invited her to sit.
"Shall we wait here? If you don't mind, I'll rest first while you keep watch." Before Elowen answered, he continued with awkward expression. "Don't judge me wrong, I will offer myself as the first to keep watch, but looking at how worry you are, I bet you won't be able to get some shut eye for now."
Elowen nodded reluctantly, offering a weak smile. "Yeah, you're right, General. Go ahead and sleep—I'll take the first shift." As Batu settled down beside her, Elowen remained alert, her fingers tracing absentminded patterns across the surface of her doll.
The weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air, mingling with the faint scent of damp earth and wildflowers carried by the night breeze.