Entering the temple, they are both overwhelmed with the overpowering scent of incense. No sages can be seen, but a single servant rests her head on the altar in the center of the great crimson hallway. Tall pillars hold dishes of fire or incense in each. Shiro disappears in search of a fire sage with the utmost urgency, disappearing between towering stone pillars and satiny drapes that reach the floor. If the place is of stone, then at least it won't burn with the rest of the buildings, Shiro thinks as he untangles himself from a rogue drape.
Ilah cautiously approaches the servant to see she is deep in prayer, face paint that was once on her cheeks is now washed away from tears. She timidly tries to rest a hand on her shoulder, and the woman snaps up.
"Oh...please..." She struggles to say then breaks down. Between sobs she manages to spit out,"Don't...let me... dist-sturb your vi-hstt..."
Ilah feels pity for the woman when seeing her filled with such anguish. She feels the same, but is bottling it away until the right time to release it.
"Would you please... Pray with me?" The servant asks, shyly.
Ilah isn't sure what to pray to at all, but regardless she takes the woman's hand and they bow into a deep, begging bow.
What do I pray for? To the sun spirit, so the sun never rises? To the moon spirit, so that it never lets the sun raise? Or do I just pray to my little brother or sister, so they know what is to come? Her confusion was overpowering her thoughts.
"Please, someone guide me." Ilah begs.
For a while, Ilah lays there, hands enveloped by the servant woman's. Her pale frame and long black hair, half draped on the alter doesn't move an inch. She must have a very intricate prayer. Absorbing the scent of the incense, and the soft sobbing of the woman, Ilah feels at peace, despite her oncoming doom. Her body begins to feel as if it's drifting, and Ilah realizes she must be slipping into sleep. But not like any sleep she's ever felt, more of a trance. Still, she welcomes it. Despite her being so well rested, she feels as if she hasn't slept in a century.
Clouds drift about her, and the world is a soft white. She rolls to her back, enjoying the beautiful scenery. Streams of invisible water flow along the shape of her body, carrying sweet, tiny flowers. Ilah scoops up one in her palm and absorbs the scent. Almost real. Then, a horribly warped figure appears before her. She inhales sharply from fear, but decides to ignore it after regaining her composure. It is her dream, after all.
Then, the figure speaks. Booming with thousands upon thousands of voices layered upon each other. All powerful. All knowing. God-like.
Ilah covers her ears and rolls to her side, trying hard to focus on the beautiful flowers. I'm not afraid, she thinks. Don't bother trying to scare me.
The figure of the voice rattles her to the core, but she is determined to ignore it. But limited few words slip through into her mind, bypassing her ears altogether.
You... will die. All will be lost. Unless I intervene. I will control your body and save you.
The figure swoops down, and Ilah sees thousands of malformed, distorted faces flashing on the figure's head.
Cling to your spirit, or you will be lost.
Ilah wakes, screaming, eyes flashing, body trashing. She struggles to regain her breath. The women backs away in horror, and several footsteps break into a run a far distance away. Swirling figures form before her eyes. Shiro kneels before her, as well as another fire sage. He seems much less afraid of this event than either of them, as his expression is stoney. After Shiro and Ilah lock hands, the fire sage is sure she is alright.
He turns away, and says, "Bring your mother here in the morning." before walking away in what Shiro thought to be in an 'exceptionally rude' manner.
"We'll have to tell them." Ilah says, wide-eyed with a choking throat as Shiro pulls her to her feet.
"Yeah, I guess we will." Shiro sighs in a crestfallen way.
They begin walking to the mouth of the temple. Ilah looks for the servant woman, but she must have taken off while Ilah had that... fit. Just a nightmare, she thinks.
"If they are going to guard our mom, then what can we do to help ourselves?" Ilah asks Shiro, tugging on his sleeve, her thoughts buzzing with a million thoughts at once
Shiro's voice becomes a booming deep note of confidence.
"We can fight."