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They did not encounter any bandits on the road. There were no desperate villages blocking their path, no unexpected disasters. Without any trouble, Ketal’s group reached the outskirts of Ferderica’s holy land.
“It went smoother than I thought,” Ketal remarked, looking over the last hills.
“We’re almost there,” Riltara replied quietly.
By tomorrow, they would arrive at the sanctuary. With that, she believed, this ordeal, this constant stream of temptations, would finally end. That should have been a relief. Yet, some small part of her felt strangely regretful. Riltara stubbornly pushed that feeling aside.
As if he could sense her wavering, Ketal gave her a sly smile and asked her, “So, how was it?”
He was asking about all the temptations, all the comforts and pleasures he’d shown her on the journey. Riltara answered him in a clear voice.
“I am a follower of Ferderica. Your temptations were powerful, yes, but they could not corrupt me.”
She spoke as if steeling herself for a lifetime of foul-smelling water and dry, rancid jerky. That was her life as a devotee. She had accepted it. She was ready to endure it again.
Seeing the resolve in her stance, Ketal offered a nod of genuine admiration. “I...
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