Elara stopped, her boots sinking into the gray muck of the riverbank. Before them lay the chasm that separated the Lower Wilds from the Sanctum proper. It was not a gap of distance, but of conviction. Spanning the void was the Bridge of Silenced Steps—a structure of pale, translucent stone that seemed less built and more grown from the very air.
When he finally crested the final ridge, the Monastery of the Sun lay before him, carved directly into the white peak. The sun was beginning its descent, bathing the valley below in a liquid gold that made the world look newly forged. Silas didn't feel a sudden burst of divine revelation. Instead, he felt a strange, light emptiness. the pilgrimage %5Bch. 2.10%5D