Chapter 27. Rejection of the Sunblade

Eryndor’s POV

The day I had been anticipating for so long finally arrived. Once again, I found myself standing beneath the soaring arches of the same grand cathedral that had first taken me in ten years ago. Its walls of pale stone still gleamed with the morning light filtering in through stained-glass windows, each pane depicting a scene of sunlight triumphing over darkness. The cool air smelled faintly of incense and old parchment, and I could almost hear the echo of my own younger footsteps as I approached the dais.

Seated in the front row were the old knight who had brought me here a decade past and his daughter, whose presence filled me with a curious mix of respect and apprehension. Behind them sat a scattering of other guests—faces I did not recognize, all dressed in their finest robes and tunics.

To one side, the three senior priests presided with solemn dignity. One of these priests was the man I remembered well: his face sagged with age, and deep