...The temple garden was suspended between seasons, and Eldath's priestess moved through it as though it were a prayer written in soil and root. Each plant had been chosen with care, each one chosen for its medicine or its beauty or the simple fact that it wanted to live here. The world beyond the garden walls was sharp with conflict. Wars were being fought in distant cities, and ambitions clashed across the continent. But here, in this small sanctuary, things grew according to their nature. The priestess knelt at the edge of the pond and watched her reflection in water so still it seemed to show her a better version of herself.

When the soldiers came, they came quietly. But she was not afraid. Eldath had taught her that peace was not the absence of strength but the presence of something far deeper, and that sometimes the kindest thing you could do was to refuse to raise your hand against those who raised theirs against you...