Page 71 of Fading Sun

Without another word, she disappears into a burst of gold, sparkling light, leaving us at the entrance of the temple—the start of our first challenge.

Amber

“I guess we’d better get started,” I say after the goddess is gone.

Even though I’ve met a goddess before—Sunneva—there was something different about Saraswati. Something more mysterious.

More mystical.

Damien nods, his face set with determination. “We need to stay focused and work together,” he says. “This temple will test our intellect, which means clarity and understanding are key.”

He glances at Blaze at the final part, as if he doesn’t think Blaze is capable of clarity and understanding.

Blaze pays him no attention, instead hurrying up the steps.

Damien shakes his head in disapproval.

Morgan steps next to me and grabs my wrist before I can follow Blaze. There’s something frantic in her eyes—something that worries me—and I say nothing as I wait for her to speak.

Damien stands back as well.

“He wasn’t like this before,” she says, her voice low, presumably so Blaze won’t hear her from inside the temple.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“He’s so angry. And impulsive. At first, I thought it was because he’s upset at me for hiding the truth about myself. But now I don’t know. It might have something to do with the quill. I think it might be changing him. Bringing out darkness in him.”

Obviously, I never knew Blaze before he acquired the Crimson Quill. But thinking about the darkness that comes over his eyes whenever he uses it, I see how it would make sense.

Blaze steps back out before I can reply to Morgan.

“Are you coming?” he asks.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Damien says to Morgan, and we join Blaze at the top of the steps, walking inside the temple together.

The ceilings soar high above us, supported by massive, intricately carved pillars. Vibrant murals cover the walls, their colors vivid and striking, undimmed by the passage of time. The floor is an expanse of polished stone, and soft light filters into the chamber through narrow, high windows set with stained glass.

A giant Buddha sits in a meditative pose in the center of the room. His robes are shimmering gold, and the jewels embedded in his crown catch the light, sending tiny rainbows dancing across the room.

The doors slam shut behind us, and my heart jumps.

“Now what?” Blaze asks.

He sounds frustrated, and I don’t blame him.

“We need to think.” Damien’s eyes are scanning the murals, searching them for answers. “Try to understand what this place is telling us.”

As he speaks, all I can focus on is the Buddha. So, as Damien moves to inspect the murals, I make my way to the statue, feeling a stronger and stronger pull to it as I do.

I’m halfway there when its eyes open, revealing a bright, piercing light.

“Seekers of light,” the Buddha’s deep, resonant voice echoes through the chamber, coming from all directions at once. “To progress on your journey, you must prove your intellect and understanding.”

The others hurry to my sides, and we’re all gazing up at the statue, likely all sharing the same amazement—that it can speak.

Damien gathers himself together first.

“How do we prove ourselves?” he asks, as if he chats with giant talking statues every day.

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