THE ALTAR WE BURNED
Shadows gathered at the edges of the sanctuary, seeping in from the corners like living ink.
"Isabella," Arthur said sharply, reaching for the crucifix at his belt. "Stay behind me."
"No," she replied, her voice low but resolute. "They’re here for me."
From the darkness, a figure emerged—tall, robed in crimson, face hidden by a veil. It was not one of the Council. It was something else. Something older. An emissary of the buried covenant that Isabella’s anointing threatened to awaken.
"Daughter of fire," the figure intoned. "The blood in your veins answers to the altar’s breath. Will you submit to the covenant, or burn for your defiance?"
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