By six in the morning, the temple grounds were already awake despite the early hour. The sky was pale and gray, and light snow drifted down quietly, settling on the marble steps and stone pillars.
At the entrance, the High Priest stood with several important temple figures who are all dressed in thick ceremonial robes layered with fur-lined cloaks to protect them from the cold.
In front of them, the carriages of Cael and Alaric were lined up with their dark wooden frames dusted with snow. The horses also wore heavy leather harnesses and wool coverings, steam rising from their breaths in the freezing air.
"It's truly a shame, my son," the High Priest said as Soren stepped forward.
He wore pristine white robes embroidered with silver thread along with a long fur cloak draped over his shoulders. His smile looked warm and sincere to anyone watching. "If you ever change your mind, the Holy Temple will always welcome you. Please remember that."
