Dark Chronicle: Long Live the Queen

Chapter 12: Old Friends. New answers

The party navigated their way back through the canyon's rugged embrace, the air thick with the scent of triumph and anticipation of the night's rest ahead. Amidst the journey, Lawrance's voice rose, swelling with pride as he claimed the day's laurels for slaying more than twenty Germon's.

Clive, however, with the sly edge of a calculating mind always inclined towards accuracy, interjected. "Actually, brother, your tally stands closer to thirteen," he remarked dryly, his comment tinged with teasing exactitude.

Lawrance bristled at the precise correction; Clive's penchant for correctness was well-known, and it often served as both a point of mild irritation and respect within the family. It was this very knack for detail that made Clive an indispensable overseer of the family's financial holdings, where precision was not an asset to be scoffed at but a necessity for prosperity.

Arnold was grateful for the Queen's magnanimity in affording him full credit for the slaying of the dragon, an action that cast him as the saviour of royalty. Yet, a trace of discomfort lingered within him, an echo of the dishonesty that stemmed from knowing it was Monica who endured most of the battle.

Compounding this internal struggle was the small sting of being called by the name of her departed friend. Despite the slight bruise to his ego, Arnold perceived the deeper turmoil behind her slip-a vestige of unresolved sorrow. He could see that Monica was still traversing the shadowy path of mourning, and this insight softened the edges of his bruised feelings, replacing them with empathy for the Queen's concealed grief.

As they drew nearer to the campsite, the ethereal light of the Moon Crystal illuminated the silhouette of Starlight Temple, its radiance piercing the encroaching night. Monica, driven by her quest for answers surrounding Max's demise, contemplated a detour to consult with Lin.

"Hold on," the queen addressed the group. "My maid and I need to pay a visit to Starlight Temple for additional camp provisions."

Lady Medici raised an eyebrow in concern. "Your Majesty, wouldn't it be wise to take one of my sons along for added safety?"

Monica offered a gracious smile in return. "I appreciate your offer, Lady Medici, but it's unnecessary. My handmaiden will be by my side," she assured her.

Turning towards the beacon of the temple, Monica beckoned, "This way, Lisa. Your assistance is indispensable."

With a prompt and respectful bow, Lisa replied, "At once, my queen," and they set off together towards the temple, leaving the group behind.

As Monica walked down the stairs onto the southern platform leading to Starlight Temple, a wave of nostalgia swept over her. Visions of the past, of her and Max labouring side by side to resurrect the temple's former glory, danced in her memory. The sage who dwelled within these walls had been a pivotal figure in their journey, and her connection to this place ran deep.

The temple remained as she remembered. An intimate sanctuary, Starlight Temple was ingeniously integrated into the mountainside, comprising four platforms each cradling a building hewn from the living rock. At its heart, a series of circular platforms floated, suspended by a network of bridges that spanned the airy chasm. In the centre resided the Moon Crystal. The power of the crystal was as mysterious as it was profound, with an enigmatic ability to unveil answers that the heart fervently pursued. Monica's mind wandered back to the time she and Max had utilized this very crystal in their own desperate search for Emperor Griffon. It was through its luminous depths that they had uncovered the staggering truth - that their foe existed not in the present, but a staggering ten thousand years in the annals of history.

Monica and Lisa approached the sanctum of the temple, where the fabled crystal resided. Monica turned to her handmaiden with a serene yet determined expression. "Wait here, Lisa. My return will be swift."