The wind at the Wind Shrine whispers softly.
Ancient stones, witnesses to the unveiling of hieroglyphic secrets, seem to breathe in harmony with time, showcasing a rough texture and a mysterious aura that surrounds them, reflecting an age steeped in myth and history.
Around them, faint shadows of ancient priests appear to linger, as if safeguarding this sacred place with a tranquility and wisdom that remains timeless. The whispers of the wind carry the echoes of forgotten mantras, reciting untold tales of spiritual journeys and awakening memories hidden in the deepest recesses of the human experience.
Fitran and Rinoa stand close together.
Below them, the corridors of wind have ceased their howling, creating a serene atmosphere filled only with the fragrant aroma of this sacred ground, reminiscent of storied rituals long past.
However, this tranquility is fleeting, like morning dew that will soon evaporate under the sun.
The mystic scent of long-prepared potions fills the air and stirs memories of rituals once held on this land, resonating deep within Rinoa's soul. In Rinoa's eyes, the light shimmers, creating the illusion of a pale moonlight shining through the dark night, igniting dormant hope.
The Canopic Jar in Rinoa's hand trembled.
Once. Then twice, a movement signaling a resurrection.
No longer just an artifact; it possessed a soul and a story.
It is a gateway to consciousness.
As the light from the jar expanded, Rinoa felt an ancient energy caressing her soul, as if urging her to recall all the wisdom hidden within, like tracing back the footsteps of her ancestors through the annals of time.
Glint!
A golden shimmer erupted, dancing in the air with an enchanting sparkle.
The world around Rinoa dissolved.
Fitran, the shrine stones, and the sky vanished, leaving only the purity and strength of the light piercing through space and time.
Rinoa stood alone.
Or rather, not entirely alone.
At the edge of her vision, a faint silhouette began to take shape—an entity that seemed intricately woven with the whispers of the wind, bringing forth a sense of assurance and warmth amidst the profound silence. A soft voice vibrated in the air, echoing as if it emanated from the depths of time, "We are waiting, Rinoa. Your journey has only just begun."
A glowing white chamber stretched infinitely, resembling a world detached from reality. In the air, thousands of Proto-Speech symbols floated—an ancient language from a forgotten realm, that even the most adept sorcerers of Atlantis could no longer decipher, emphasizing the richness of lost knowledge. Each symbol shimmered, creating a mesmerizing dance of light that captivated the imagination.
The wind whispered gently among the ever-distancing pillars, adding to the hushed ambiance laden with hope and tension. The mystical aroma of ancient incense permeated the chamber, evoking vivid memories of an era when spirits roamed freely and sorcerers exercised the harmonious will of nature, forging bonds with the unseen forces of the universe.
Four figures slowly emerged.
Not mere shadows. Not illusions, either. They were great spirits.
Bound tightly to the Canopic Jar since the megalithic age, their presence filled the space with a majestic and mysterious aura.
Isis — Goddess of Magic and Life.
Her form is that of a woman with shimmering blue-violet wings, radiating a gentle light that vibrates around her, as if the world is being re-painted by her presence. A throne-shaped crown rests on her head, symbolizing power and wisdom.
As she steps forward, tranquility unravels, carrying the long-buried hopes from hidden dimensions. A soft rumble of her vibrating energy envelops the room, creating waves of resonance that penetrate the souls of every being present.
Nephthys — Goddess of Mourning and Protection.
Her presence manifests as an elegant woman clad in shimmering black robes, with deep-set eyes that seem to gaze into an unerasable past. Behind the soft fabric of her cloak lie stories of sorrow and loss that she wishes to impart to those willing to listen.
It feels as though every heartbeat in this space depends on her presence, as a resonance of sorrow intertwined with solace emerges, touching wounded souls and evoking profound empathy. When she stands there, it is not only sorrow that flows, but also a glimmer of hope for healing and acceptance.
Selket — Goddess of Healing Venoms and Protection Against Evil.
Her tall and imposing figure, adorned with a scorpion crown that symbolizes her strength, commands respect. Her scepter radiates a powerful counteracting aura, bringing relief in the darkness, as if declaring that every poison in life can be overcome with courage and wisdom.
With a graceful gesture, a soft, dazzling aura spreads throughout the room, dispelling the shadowy gloom and ushering in a soothing light. She becomes a balm for wounded souls, simultaneously serving as an antidote to the poisons of life that often lurk in the shadows. Her abilities unfurl widely, bringing forth bright colors that shine vividly amidst this biting silence.
Neith — Goddess of Weaving Fate and War.
A magnificent golden shield hangs majestically on her back, reflecting the surrounding light. Her face, as bright as morning dew and as calm as a battlefield, emanates trust and determination.
Within her presence, a perfect harmony of fearsome strength and elegance manifests, proving that no enemy is unconquerable. Each thread of destiny is meticulously woven into the fabric of life, patiently awaiting its turn to unfold and bring new hope to the world.
Isis stepped forward.
"Rinoa Alfrenzo. You summoned us by your own will, not by the bloodline."
Nephthys spoke, her voice soft yet filled with meaning:
"You come bearing wounds from your life's journey, not those inflicted by your own choices."
Selket added, her gaze imbued with empathy:
"You carry extraordinary courage, fully aware that this magic is not merely a gift but a burden you must bear."
Neith gazed intently, her eyes like two blazing torches:
"Are you prepared to shoulder the four wills that bind you?
Not just the power to heal, but also to determine:
Who is worthy to remain in the light, and who must be released into the darkness."
Inside the Wind Shrine, shadows danced softly, as if whispering to one another, flowing with the wind that carried hope and longing. The refreshing scent of incense permeated the air, embracing the space with warmth and concurrently making this sacred place more divine, creating an atmosphere that was both calm and infused with profound mystery.
Rinoa clenched her fists with determination.
"I am ready. Not because I want to be a savior,
but because I want the world to have choices that I once did not."
Outside, the voice of her heart was drowned out by the swirling winds enveloping the shrine, as if testing the strength and resilience of her resolve. The soft light from the flickering candles surrounded the altar, creating shimmering shadows that seemed to strive to maintain order in the decisions made.
The four goddesses gracefully formed a circle around her, presenting a mystical aura that stirred the soul.
The Proto-Speech symbols glowed brightly, radiating soothing light.
"Ankh Tesseris: Pactum Amentet."
(Symbols of the Four Lives: The Covenant of Amentet.)
The soft light from the Canopic Jar enveloped Rinoa, providing a sense of safety and warmth that permeated amidst the tension, akin to the nurturing embrace of the earth itself.
Symbols gracefully shifted over her body, seemingly fulfilling a promise she made to herself:
Left hand: Amentet — the Goddess of Death, standing majestic and somber, radiating a terrifying aura of immortality.
Right hand: Isis — the Sorceress of Life and Wonder, surrounded by shimmering light, her power flowing like an unbroken river.
On her chest: Nephthys, the protector of the soul, weaving threads of virtue that bring peace to the troubled.
On her back: Neith, the will and determiner of fate, whispering cosmic secrets that govern the journey of life.
As the four goddesses spoke in unison, their voices resembled a divine song that snaked through the walls of the shrine, touching the souls thirsty for knowledge and strength.
The four goddesses spoke together:
"You are not merely the bearer of our magic.
You are the successor of the will of forgotten eras.
We grant you the right to rename this power."
Rinoa nodded.
"I shall call it..."
"Aegis of Amentet."
Amentet's Judgement — Ending the suffering of beings who can no longer be saved with serene grace, providing them a path to eternity, ensuring their peace in the afterlife.
Isis' Restoration — Healing physical and spiritual wounds that transcend the limits of ordinary magic; it is as if each healing is a new miracle woven into the fabric of time.
The gentle whisper of the wind reveals the secrets of life, while soft light illuminates this sacred space, casting reflections that seem to dance as if in prayer. It is as if the rays of light themselves are calling forth the wounded souls to rise from darkness and embrace new hope with open hearts.
Nephthys' Veil — Protecting the soul from forces that seek to rewrite destiny, serving as a sacred shield against encroaching shadows.
As Rinoa weaves these words into her incantation, shadows of the past begin to dissipate like morning dew warmed by gentle sunlight. In this tranquility, every soul dwelling in the shrine seems to nod in agreement, offering their strength to support the sacred process of healing.
Selket's Banishment — Expelling spirits or negative energies that entangle the mind and body.
With a graceful wave of her hand, Rinoa summoned the guardian of darkness. The wind picked up, swirling around her in a refreshing gust that carried with it a cry from deep within her, echoing: "Courage is the light that pierces the dark!" The voice flowed melodiously, creating a symphony that uplifts her spirit, defying all inner noise that sought to bring her down, creating a symphony that uplifted her spirit.
"And you now become the bridge between the living and those who have passed."
Whummmm!
The wind in the Wind Shrine paused for a moment, as if time stood still to honor that moment.
The shrine stones glowed softly, emanating a light that danced, as if alive in harmony.
Rinoa opened her eyes.
Before her, Fitran stood, his figure surrounded by an aura that was calm and reassuring.
"Is it over?" he asked gently, his voice as soft as the breeze outside.
Rinoa nodded.
Her eyes sparkled with the light of four souls now alive within her, in a palette of colors that shimmered as if reflecting newfound hope.
For a moment, silence enveloped them like a soothing blanket of peace. Rinoa's heart fluttered, as if the voices of the souls bound within her were singing in magnificent harmony, imparting an unexpected new strength. Each glimmer of light told its own story, and Rinoa felt the strands of destiny intertwining around her, urging her to express what had long been hidden.
"The goddesses have chosen me."
Fitran smiled faintly, his eyes sparkling with wisdom. "They did not choose you.
You chose them."
With hopeful gazes, they looked up at the sky, where stars twinkled to greet them. The wind began to blow again, this time as if singing a gentle song from nature:
"Carry our will.
Teach the world… that the wounded need not yield to a curse."
Under the shrine, the path to the Center Stones began to open, revealing itself with a tempting magical aura. This path was no longer just a route to Gamma,
but a significant decision about whether Gamma was worthy of being revived, a choice that could reshape destinies.
Each step Rinoa took seemed to awaken a resounding echo, a cosmic resonance accompanying this sacred journey. With burning determination and unyielding spirit, she traversed the path, ready to face any challenge and decide her fate. The sky above began to emit a golden light, signaling that change had begun and new hope was blossoming.
"I can save you with this, Fitran."