The cell was dim and smelled faintly of damp earth. Iron bars cast long shadows across the stone floor as Irielle leaned against the wall, her wrists bound but her head held high.

Across from her, her father stood with the same stern composure she remembered all too well—unchanged, yet colder than before.

"You were foolish to come back like this."

He said, his voice a quiet thunder in the silence.

"Betraying your people once was enough. But to return and think you'd be welcomed? That was naïve."

Irielle scoffed, her lips twisting into a bitter smile.

"Don't act like this wasn't what you wanted. You begged me again and again to come back. Letters, messengers—always the same plea. And now you call me a traitor for listening to you?"

Her father's expression flickered, almost imperceptibly, before he let out a sigh.

"I did want you to return. But not like this. Not sneaking in, not turning your back on your kin's faith. You've broken our trust, and for that… I have no choice but to put you to rest."

She barked a sharp laugh.

"Put me to rest? You? Don't make me laugh, Father. You've never had the strength to lift a finger against me. You didn't dare when Mother was alive. You didn't dare when her protection lingered around me. You were too much of a coward then, and you still are."

Her words cut deep, but he didn't flare with anger the way she expected. Instead, he stepped closer, raising his hand almost gently. Before she could recoil, his finger flicked her forehead.

A shock of pain shot through her skull, making her gasp. She stumbled back against the wall, eyes wide in disbelief.

"W-What…?"

Her father straightened, his eyes colder now than ever.

"You thought a mortal woman's blessing could withstand the power of a goddess? You thought you could keep mocking the faith of our people without consequence? You've run out of time, Irielle. Not even your mother's memory can protect you anymore."

Her chest tightened with fear, though she forced her lips into a mocking smile.

"So what now? You'll try to break me with parlor tricks?"

His gaze softened in a way that unsettled her more than his cruelty.

"No. Tonight, you'll serve your people one last time. Your body will be offered as a sacrifice to our goddess. These are your final hours. I suggest you spend them reflecting."

He turned without another word, the sound of his footsteps fading as he exited the jail. The door creaked shut, leaving Irielle alone in the dark.

For a moment, she sat still, her expression unmoved. Then, as the silence closed in, her shoulders trembled. She drew her knees to her chest, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

She had always prided herself on never showing weakness, never bending to anyone—not even her father. But now… her heart pounded in terror.

'No one's coming… not this time.'

She pressed her forehead against her knees, fighting to steady her breathing, pretending to be braver than she truly felt.

Meanwhile, outside the settlement, Kana and Lysera finally stood at the gates.

The two of them wore plain merchant cloaks, their wagon stacked high with sacks of dried grains, smoked meats, and baskets of herbs.

Kana's palms were clammy as she gripped the reins, forcing herself to look calm.

The keeper stood before them, his eyes hidden behind a cloth, yet his presence loomed heavy. Kana swallowed, remembering Irielle's warning: he could see souls. There was no tricking him.

"State your purpose."

The keeper said.

Lysera handed over the supply warrant the traders had given them, her expression cool and practiced.

"We're delivering food and provisions. Contracted for the festival."

The keeper's fingers brushed over the parchment, lingering. Then, slowly, he nodded.

"The warrant is true."

His head tilted toward Kana, his blindfolded gaze settling on her. For a terrible moment, Kana felt as though her very soul was being peeled open under his sight.

Her throat tightened, but she forced her hands to remain steady on the reins.

Finally, the keeper stepped aside.

"You may pass. But be warned. Strangers who do not honor the wolf goddess will not find safety here. Tonight is sacred. The priests prepare the sacrifice even now."

His voice dropped lower.

"If you are careless, you may find yourselves offered alongside her."

Kana's blood froze. She didn't dare show her reaction, but the meaning was unmistakable—Irielle was alive, but only until nightfall.

She guided the wagon forward, her grip trembling slightly. Lysera sat beside her, her voice low enough for only Kana to hear.

"So it's true. They're going to sacrifice her."

Lysera murmured.

Kana bit down on her lip, hard.

"Then we don't have much time."

The wooden gates closed behind them with a heavy thud, sealing them inside. The village stretched out before them, alive with the bustle of festival preparations.

Lanterns hung from poles, villagers moved about carrying decorations, and the air was thick with incense.

Beneath the surface of the celebration, though, Kana could feel the sharp undercurrent of fanatic devotion.

Her heart pounded. Somewhere in this village, Irielle was waiting—scared, alone, and running out of time.

Kana forced herself to keep her expression neutral as they guided the wagon through the streets.

Villagers glanced their way, but no one lingered too long; their attention was on the colorful banners and the priests giving instructions for the evening's rituals.

Lysera leaned closer, her eyes darting around.

"They're distracted. That works in our favor."

She whispered.

Kana nodded but her heart was heavy. Each passing word about "the sacrifice" felt like a blade twisting inside her chest. She clenched her fists in her lap.

'Irielle, please hold on…'

At the village square, they stopped with the other merchants to unload supplies. The priests walked by, draped in wolf pelts and silver jewelry, their eyes bright with fervor.

Kana lowered her head, hiding her face beneath her hood, and whispered to Lysera.

"We'll need to slip away once the crowd gathers for the festival. That's when we find her."

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