Moon Priestess of the Silver Flame



Under the watchful gaze of the ancient moon, the ruins of the old temple stirred with quiet magic. Silver mist drifted between the broken pillars, and the forest beyond held its breath.
Aelthiriel, Moon Priestess of the Silver Flame, stood at the heart of the sanctuary.
For centuries her order had guarded the sacred fire—an eternal spark said to be a fragment of the moon itself. It was not a flame that burned flesh, but one that revealed truth, purified darkness, and illuminated the hidden paths of fate.
Tonight, it had awakened.
The pale fire hovered gently above her palm, its light dancing across her violet skin and reflecting in her glowing eyes. The full moon rose behind her crown like a halo of ancient power, as though the sky itself had chosen her.
She felt it then—the stirring beyond the forest.
Something old had begun to move.
 Something that feared the light she carried.
Aelthiriel closed her fingers around the silver flame, and the embers spiraled into the night air like falling stars.
“The moon has spoken,” she whispered softly.
And for the first time in a thousand years, the Silver Flame would leave its temple. 🌙🔥