Irrakam, the Present Day.

Mordelain walked the Midnight Bazaar whilst it was quiet. Rather than jump to the gates of the tower, she chose to walk across the city to allow her mind time to calm from the storm of ideas Suresh’s revelation had incited. With soft steps, she wove through the graveyard of empty stalls and admired the thousands of lanterns which hung from the roof to light the night-time purchasing that would start just after sundown. With the Long Summer in full swung it had become less busy, though still a sight to behold for visitors to the island.

“If I can just get the priestess to agree to one small incursion…” she mumbled to herself.

She turned a corner and came at last to the Black Gate; beyond lay the Conclave of Mothers, those deigned worthy to oversee the household of the priestess and her court. Here, once a week, merchants who had gained favours could bring their wares in hopes of their goods being used for prayer and prattles in the tower above.

“il’Jhain with a message!”

Her words reverberated through the empty streets. She made to shout again but the gate cracked open before she could.

“From which house?” a voice cried from within.

“The Freerunners. My name is Mordelain Saythrou.”

Mordelain’s ears twitched as hushed whispers ran rampant through the chamber beyond the gate. She heard movement, then a barking order, and then a woman appeared. She wore a simple white dress with a high neckline and muslin cowl.

“What brings you here, planes walker?”

“I come with news that will save us from this blasted Long Summer.”

Hesitation filled the gaps in the silence.

“It is for the priestess and the priestess alone.”

“You are known to us, but your deeds are not all in Fallien’s name. Come, but be watched with every step.” The acolyte gestured for Mordelain to approach.

Knowing better than to test their defences, Mordelain walked slowly towards the gate and set her kukri and staff free. The acolyte took them gingerly and disappeared behind the gate.

“You know the way from here.”

“I d-" Mordelain veered around the gate but found the chamber beyond empty. “How in the world did she do that?”

No footprints in the sawdust. No bolt holes. No gate near enough to run to. Mordelain raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

“I’m not the only one it seems…”

Pressing onwards, the il’Jhain crossed the abandoned marketplace and entered a staircase that spiralled upwards. The crumbling stone of the bazaar turned to polished obsidian, brought to life by ever burning torches held aloft in silver etched braziers. She kept her senses honed on the turn ahead as she rose, uncertain as to wherever or not she would be welcomed after her last adventure in the tower.

“I’m sure she’ll see the funny side.”

But those days were a lifetime ago, and Mordelain had fought tooth and nail to prove herself an ally since. Her teaching in the Academy alone was enough to atone for a thousand sins, especially the young upstarts who had nobles for parents. They tested her in a way a thousand steps skyward never could. Before long, she fell into a wide corridor surprised that the journey had taken so little time. Ahead, a regal carpet lined the approach to a golden door in the distance. The armed acolytes lining the corridor were not customarily stationed here. Mordelain’s heart sank.

“Or maybe she won’t…”