The longest day and the shortest night—the sacred moment for the Order of Tenebrae Vivens. It is said to be the only day of the solar year when Serevos, the God worshipped by the Order, turns His gaze to this forsaken world and heeds the prayers of men.

The eldest believers whisper that the nights leading up to the Solstice Ceremony are the harshest trials for the faithful, a divine test to determine who is truly worthy of the God’s attention. These are the nights that decide which souls might otherwise be erased from the list of souls to be saved at the world's end.

The atmosphere within the Order is... tense. The younger knights are restless, stumbling through their training and spending long hours praying at the foot of their beds, uncertain of what to expect. Meanwhile, those who have weathered dozens of Solstices take delight in stoking their juniors' anxieties. The women of the Order are more frequent visitors to the sacred shrines scattered across the Ashen Valleys, seeking guidance and protection.

This year, the Summer Solstice Ceremony is set to be held in one of the ancient temples of Tenebrae Vivens, nestled deep within the Whispering Woods. As is tradition, knights are chosen to clear the temple’s surroundings, purging the forest of its dangers—feral beasts and arcane seals—preparing the way for the sacred pilgrimage.

When Rosavere learned he was chosen for this honor, he was elated. To personally guard the temple and prepare it for the most sacred celebration in the faith of Tenebrae Vivens was nothing short of a blessing.

The assignment was delivered directly by his father, the High Seer, the day before departure. With it came an introduction to his companion for the task: a knight whose name struck a faint chord of recognition within Rosavere. Perhaps he had heard it from the elders, or murmured among the recruits—maybe they were already a hero of renown whose deeds had simply escaped his attention.

** The silver blade hisses through the undergrowth, clearing the path as the two knights press forward into the dense forest. The sun had deserted them hours ago, retreating behind the mountainous sentinels guarding the Nebrevia valleys.

The moon, however, offered scant comfort. Its pale glow was swallowed by the canopy above, while distant growls and the rustle of unseen predators accompanied their march. Rosavere could feel their unseen eyes tracking their movements, but as long as those creatures kept their distance, he was content enough to let them be.

The cold, however, was less forgiving. It bit through their armor with persistence despite the season.

“Ser,” Rosavere’s voice broke the silence, smooth and steady and strangely comforting. He didn’t look away from the path ahead, but his words were clearly directed toward his companion. “Have you faced battle before? There must be something extraordinary about you for the High Seer to entrust you with a mission of such gravity.”

His lips curved into a calm, encouraging smile, though his eyes remained watchful.

“To think we have been chosen this year... Surely, the God Serevos has heard our prayers at last.” The warmth in his tone was subtle, like a flicker of light in the cold forest night. It was the kind of reassurance that turned the weight of their sacred duty into something almost bearable.