The ancient shrine was no longer bathed in soft light. A merciless night of blizzard had fallen.
Snow howled from the sky, driven by a storm that seemed intent on scraping the land bare. The pillars and stone steps encrusted with frost, their carved runes were almost swallowed by ice.
'I shouldn't feel the cold, but...'
Lucille's brows furrowed as she stood amid the blizzard. Despite not being physically affected by the snowstorm, the chill seemed to creep into her bones.
Through the veil of snow, two familiar figures emerged.
The man and the woman, whose names Lucille hadn't learned, moved slowly toward the shrine. Their footprints vanished almost as soon as they were made, buried by the storm.
They forced the shrine doors open, revealing its dark interior. On such a night, it was empty of the warlocks who once knelt there in reverence.
No chanting echoed now, nor incense burned. Only a deathly silence waited for them inside.
