"It's a shame we couldn't do the same in Hassdalia," murmured Paltio, a tinge of sadness coloring his voice as he gazed out the carriage window. His face was shadowed, weighed down by memories that seemed to press heavily on his shoulders. Alita sat silently, lost in thought, her eyes reflecting a deep melancholy but also something more—a quiet internal conflict that appeared to be slowly consuming her.
"Hey, did the mouse eat your tongue or what?" Ron interrupted, breaking the uncomfortable silence with his usual jesting tone. He glanced at Alita with a forced smile, attempting to lighten the mood. "Why so serious, friend?"
Alita snapped abruptly out of her trance, blinking several times before responding. She lifted her gaze toward Ron, though her eyes remained distant, as if seeing something far beyond him.
"No, it's nothing… I think I was just lost in my thoughts and didn't notice. Sorry," she replied softly, her shyness almost tangible. Yet, no sooner had she finished speaking than she rested her hand under her chin again, returning to her original position, staring absently through the fogged-up carriage window.
What could she be thinking? Her companions wondered, especially Ron, who wasn't convinced by her answer. There was something in her tone, in her gaze, that hinted at a deeper concern troubling her.
"Well, we've arrived," Galatea announced firmly, breaking the silence that had once again settled over the group. After guiding them along a winding path for over three hours, they had finally reached their destination. The landscape was imposing: three green hills rose before them, covered in fresh grass that shimmered under the moonlight—the only source of brightness in this world, though partially veiled by clouds. Beyond those hills, according to Galatea's daughters, lay the sanctuary of the priestess.
Everyone disembarked from the carriage stiffly, feeling the weariness of the journey in their muscles. Galatea and her daughters dismounted their horses gracefully, as if the animals were natural extensions of their bodies. After a brief pause, they began ascending a narrow trail that wound between the hills. They walked single file, following Galatea's steady yet unhurried pace; her tall, majestic figure stood out even from behind.
The trek lasted about an hour. With each step, the air grew cooler, infused with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers. Finally, upon reaching the summit of the tallest hill, the sanctuary emerged before them like an ancient specter. Stone statues of women flanked the entrance, their stone robes draped with delicate veils that concealed their faces. They seemed eternal guardians, watchful protectors of the sacred place.
They entered the sanctuary in silence, following Galatea, who lit torches as she walked. The flickering light illuminated the interior, revealing a vast and resonant space. The walls were adorned with more images of women, this time painted in muted tones that seemed to fade with time. At the end of the grand corridor, a red door stood imposingly, like a barrier between the mortal world and something deeper.
Galatea nodded toward one of her daughters, who immediately obeyed and carefully opened the door. A warm, golden light flooded the threshold, illuminating a specific corner of the sanctuary. Just then, something—or someone—moved in the shadows.
"What was that?" asked Paltio, stopping abruptly. His voice echoed in the silence, heavy with tension.
"Lady, are you here? We thought you wouldn't be," said Galatea, bowing deeply. Her daughters followed suit at once, kneeling with absolute respect.
"Peace, my daughters. I am here," responded a female voice, soft yet powerful, like the whisper of wind through trees.
Upon hearing that voice, Mok also decided to bow low in a gesture of respect.
"Oh! I remember you. And now you're quite the royal butler," the voice continued, tinged with gentle amusement. "How are the rings I gave you?"
"All is well, thank you for asking. I guard them as something precious to me," replied Mok, blending formality with gratitude.
"That's good!" the voice responded, its warmth filling the room.
At that moment, Golden emerged from Paltio's seed, his radiant figure capturing everyone's attention.
"So here you were," said Golden, with a mischievous smile.
"Is this your friend?" asked Paltio's companions, surprised.
"Yes," Golden answered without hesitation, then added with a suppressed laugh, "Though I never imagined you'd become a priestess now."
"Well, yes… I suppose so," replied the woman who now stood before them, her voice serene yet commanding. The light surrounding her began to expand slowly, as if the sun itself were rising from her form. Within seconds, the entire room was bathed in a luminous glow, revealing every corner of the sanctuary. It was impossible not to feel awestruck by her presence.
She was tall and ethereal, appearing to float a few inches above the ground. She wore an immaculate white robe that swayed gently, as though caressed by an invisible breeze. When she removed her veil and hood, her striking face was revealed: her eyes were an intense, almost unreal blue, and her delicate features evoked the majestic grace of an exotic bird, reminiscent of a hyacinth macaw, her hair as blue as the sea. Her gaze was piercing, as if it could see beyond what any mortal might conceal.
Meliradal turned her attention to Golden, tilting her head slightly with curiosity.
"And you… did you shrink or something, old friend? Because you're stuck to that boy," she said, gesturing elegantly toward Paltio. There was a playful tone in her voice, but also a hint of genuine astonishment.
Golden smiled, though his expression betrayed a touch of discomfort.
"I thought you were a sorceress, not a priestess," he retorted, crossing his arms casually.
Meliradal let out a soft, almost musical laugh.
"As you can see, my friend, some things have changed since the disappearance of Avocios. Now tell me, what brings you here?" she asked, fixing her piercing blue eyes on Golden with a mix of curiosity and solemnity.
"It's a long story," Golden replied with a casual shrug.
The two sank into an intimate conversation, momentarily ignoring the rest of the group. It was clear to the others that Meliradal still had questions about how Golden had ended up trapped in Paltio's seed after the battle against that unknown enemy. However, even for her, the memories of that day seemed blurry, as if time and space had warped during the confrontation.
Suddenly, Galatea interrupted respectfully, though her voice trembled slightly with contained emotion.
"My lady, forgive me… I don't mean to be rude or interrupt your conversation," she said, keeping her head bowed, and her hands clasped tightly in her lap, "but… when our people were attacked, why couldn't we count on your help?"
Meliradal fell silent for a moment, as if carefully weighing her words. Finally, she responded with a sweetness that echoed throughout the room:
"Ah! You're referring to that, my dear Galatea. Believe me, I wanted to help you… But something prevented me from leaving this place. There's an invisible force that keeps me here, trapped. If I leave, I can only transform into a mute bird, powerless, just like the wild animals that roam freely in this world. I don't know why this happened, but I deeply regret it, my faithful follower. I'm so sorry for not being able to stand by your side when you needed me most."
Her voice was angelic, laden with a sorrow that resonated in the hearts of everyone present. Galatea, still kneeling, nodded slowly, understanding her priestess's words, though the weight of disappointment lingered.
"Rise, Galatea," Meliradal instructed gently. "There's no need for you to remain in that position. Look into my eyes. You are one of my bravest daughters, and you've always been loyal to our cause."
Galatea obeyed, rising slowly while keeping her gaze lowered out of respect. But Meliradal extended her hand toward her, inviting her to look directly at her. Her blue eyes radiated compassion and wisdom, as if they sought to impart peace and understanding.
In a gesture of apology, Meliradal drew a small crystal bottle from the folds of her robe. Inside was a golden, shimmering liquid that seemed to vibrate with energy, as though it were alive.
"This is for you," she said, handing it to Galatea delicately. "It's a magical perfume that can temporarily change your form. Use it wisely. If Tejod tries to summon Troba, the badger who was defeated, this perfume will allow you to take her form and protect the realm from another possible retaliatory attack for what they did. As I said, I can observe them but not aid them. This is my way of making up for my absence."
Galatea held the bottle reverently, feeling its warmth against her skin. She knew that this gift was more than just an object—it was a symbol of Meliradal's trust and love for her and her people.
Galatea approached Alita with care, guiding her forward as though she were a fragile treasure in need of presentation. The young woman with pink hair lowered her gaze, visibly nervous but also resolute. Meliradal turned her attention to her, her blue eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and compassion. It was clear that something deeply troubled the girl; even without touching her, Meliradal could sense the emotions radiating from her like waves of heat.
"Come with me," Meliradal said softly, gesturing toward a quieter corner of the sanctuary. Her tone was warm, almost maternal. "You mustn't feel bad, child. I know what you're thinking—that you weren't much help to your friends, that one of them nearly died before your eyes because of your stubbornness. But look at me… You must not blame yourself. You have great potential within you, though you may not see it yet."
Alita looked at her in surprise, as if Meliradal had unlocked a hidden door in her mind. How did she know exactly what she was feeling? Before she could ask, the priestess continued:
"Golden can read minds, but I can sense and read the hearts of those around me—in other words, their feelings. And believe me, your heart is full of light, though it may now seem dimmed by doubt," Meliradal explained, extending her hand toward the ring Alita wore on her finger. "This ring… It is a powerful gift. I see that Mok trusted you by lending it to you. However, it needs energy to function properly."
Meliradal took a nearby pitcher and poured water over the stone of the ring. Instantly, it began to glow with a bluish shimmer, as if awakening from a long slumber. Then, the priestess raised a hand to her head and carefully extracted one of her feathers, which seemed to be part of an invisible crown resting upon her hair. The feather was long and vibrant, an intense blue with silvery glimmers.
"Take this," she instructed, offering it to Alita with reverence.
As soon as Alita touched the feather, it sprang to life in her hands, magically transforming into a small bird: a blue jay that fluttered briefly before settling onto her shoulder. Its eyes sparkled with intelligence, and its voice was soft yet firm.
"Hello, girl," the bird greeted, tilting its head slightly toward Alita. "I am Nakia, one of Meliradal's servants. I am here to teach you everything you need to know about magic."
Nakia gave a brief bow before settling comfortably on Alita's shoulder, who gazed at her with awe and admiration.
"I see you're eager to learn," Nakia continued, smiling. "It will be a pleasure to be your teacher and help you."
Ron, who had been watching the scene with curiosity, couldn't resist chiming in.
"Hey! Is she like Toco-Toco?" he asked, thinking of the little kitten that used to accompany Golden.
Meliradal let out a light, almost musical laugh.
"Are you referring to Golden's adorable little feline? Yes, something like that. Though I hope the kitty doesn't end up chasing my birds," she teased, winking an eye.
"Yes! Toco-Toco is super cute," Ron said enthusiastically.
"Hey! I'm cute too!" Nakia protested, puffing up her chest in mock indignation.
"Of course you are, little one," Meliradal replied sweetly, gently stroking the air near Nakia as if to calm her.
At that moment, Paltio interrupted the conversation, addressing Meliradal directly with a mix of anxiety and embarrassment.
"Lady Meliradal, could you help us find the missing piece of the scepter that's in this realm? Golden said you might be able to do it without performing some weird ritual… You know, like the one I have to do. I tried it once, but it was pretty uncomfortable," he confessed, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
Meliradal looked at him intently, as if assessing his sincerity. Then, she extended a hand toward him with a serene gesture.
"Of course, my son. Give me your hand," she instructed.
Paltio obeyed, placing his trembling hand on Meliradal's. The instant their skin touched, the priestess's eyes and mouth began to glow with an ethereal light, as if they were windows to another world. The surrounding air seemed to vibrate, charged with magical energy. Paltio's eyes also lit up, as though he were being pulled from this earthly plane.