Chapter 44 Temple Revelations

They didn’t look back.

Every step away from the temple felt like it sank deeper into their bones, like the weight wasn’t just in their hearts but in their very marrow. It was the heaviness of leaving something unfinished, the ache of abandoning a fight before you could even take the swing you’d been bracing for.

They rode in silence, the slow rhythm of the drakes’ hooves against the frozen earth echoing like a clock ticking toward something none of them wanted to face. The forest loomed above, branches whispering against one another, but none of them paid attention. No birds called. No wind stirred.

Skye rode with her head low, her cat ears sagging against her hair. The shadows under her golden eyes made her look older, and the way she kept glancing over her shoulder told everyone what she was thinking—hoping, desperately, that somehow Kai would appear behind them. That he’d catch up with an easy grin and scold them for leaving him behind. But the road stayed empty.

Fara didn’t speak. Her fists clenched against the reins until her knuckles ached, the steady grind of her teeth keeping her from shouting at the world itself. Her tails flicked in restless, uneven movements, betraying the storm clawing at her chest. Two tails, still far from her full power, and she couldn’t protect him. That truth gnawed at her like a wound that wouldn’t close.

Revoli kept to the rear, her small frame hunched in the saddle. Her tail dragged in the dirt, her horns feeling heavier than they ever had. She blamed herself. She was the one who rushed ahead, the one Kai went after. The one who sparked it all. The thought coiled around her like chains.

By the time the city’s gates came into view, the mist hanging in the streets blurred the lights like an old, tired painting. No one spoke about what they’d say when people asked where Kai was. They didn’t have to—each of them already knew the answer would hurt.

Without him, they weren’t just incomplete. They were nothing anyone would take seriously.

The guild was alive when they entered—tankards clinking, dice hitting tables, boasts shouted over the hum of voices. It felt wrong, like stepping into a different world that had been moving just fine without them.

Behind the main desk sat Lena, her dark hair pulled into a quick, practical braid, a quill tapping against her ledger as she sorted request slips. She looked up when the girls came in, and her smile faltered immediately.

“Where’s Kai?” Lena asked, rising to her feet in one fluid motion.

The girls froze.

Skye’s lips parted but no sound came. Fara’s throat tightened before she could form words. Revoli stepped forward instead, her voice brittle.

“He’s trapped. In the temple. The moment he went inside, the entrance vanished—it sealed like it had never been there.”

Lena’s hands stilled over the desk. “…The temple sealed?”

“And the fog came back,” Fara said, her voice low. “It wasn’t the same. It felt… hungrier. It nearly pulled us apart.”

Lena’s brow knit tight with worry. She stepped out from behind the desk and motioned with her head. “Come with me.”

Lockwood was pacing when they entered his office, the brim of his hat casting shadows over sharp eyes.

“You three look like hell,” he said flatly.

“He’s gone,” Fara replied, the words heavy.

Skye’s hands shook. “We couldn’t save him.”

Lockwood’s gaze lingered on them for a long moment before he gestured to the chairs. “Sit.”

They didn’t so much sit as collapse into them.

Lockwood poured a dark liquid into three small glasses and slid them across the desk. “You’re not the first to lose someone in that place.”

Revoli’s head snapped up. “You knew?”

“I know that temple predates this kingdom,” he said. “Maybe even the world as we know it.”

From a drawer, he pulled a dust-coated scroll, unfurling it so they could see sketches of sun disks, feathered serpents, and horned figures.

“It belonged to the Kin of the Celestial Dawn—a civilization of sun worshippers. Their gods were beings of both feather and scale, radiant bodies of fire and light. The temple wasn’t just a place to pray—it was a gate.”

“A gate to what?” Skye asked.

Lockwood’s voice dropped. “Another plane. Maybe another world entirely. The temple appears and disappears based on celestial alignments. The moment you went in, the sun was aligning for an eclipse. That’s why it sealed.”

Revoli’s eyes widened. “So… it will open again?”

He nodded. “Next solstice is too far out. But there’s a lunar eclipse in a month. That might be your only shot.”

From a locked case in the wall, he retrieved a small black charm—smooth, angular, and faintly glowing. “An obsidian anchor. Place it at the entrance before you go in. It will keep the gate from closing again.”

The three of them looked at each other, and for the first time since leaving the temple, hope cracked through the heaviness in their eyes.

“He’s still in there,” Skye whispered.

“And he’s alive,” Fara said with quiet certainty.

Lockwood leaned forward. “I wouldn’t bet against him. But be ready—if the temple’s bleeding into our world, Kai may not be the only one inside when you return.”

Revoli straightened. “What do we do until then?”

“Train,” Lockwood said. “Stronger than you’ve ever been. And when the day comes…” He met each of their eyes.

“You bring your leader home.”