What Awaits

The knife was reluctantly put on the desk, the walking stick remained propped up against the wall. Islana started to walk out but the servant stopped the young woman and pointed at her neck. So, used to having it on; it hadn't occurred to take it off.

They really meant everything.

For the first time, since she was six, the silver bird would not be gracing Islana's neck. Her fingers undid the clasp and she gave it a kiss for luck, before putting it on the desk, next to the knife.

The young witch used to think there was nothing that would remove that necklace. She knew, now, some things were just that important.

Her ankle wasn't healed but the swelling had gone down and, while sore, she was able to walk on it. Her left arm had been in the sling since the right after the Skars. Islana didn't think going into the trials with the arm incapacitated was a good thing.

The huntress had tried using her arm without the sling last night, after returning from the garden. It was also sore - quite sore but doable, she supposed. So, Islana made her way with a slight limp but her arm was free of its sling.

Islana proceeded to follow the servant through the halls. The distant chanting was quite noticeable considering how silent the halls had been since arriving here.

The three of them stood near the center, not speaking, as the room was visually taken in. It was usual in its design but the symbols carved into the walls weren't familiar to the redhead.

The gaze of green eyes landed on the stone dais. It looked like it was something that might require a sacrifice but none of them had anything on them. Her mind played with different scenarios as they waited.