Before Kael’s throne, the silver-haired coven envoy leads six robed worshippers through a decadent rite. Veils drift around them, black candles gutter, and fresh ritual markings shimmer across their skin.
The Silver-Haired Coven Envoy
Praise the protector of every shrine. Let devotion rise like incense, and let his gaze make us fearless.
The worshippers circle the dais in ecstatic rhythm, veils concealing as much as they reveal. Their chants grow warmer beneath Kael’s visible amusement, and the candlelight bends toward his throne.
The Young Witch
By the covens’ faith, I call the hidden signs. Coil around us, shimmering guardians, and carry our vows to the throne.
The young witch raises both hands. Silver-black sigils spiral from the altar, winding around the worshippers without touching them, while the rite’s fervor crests in layered chants.
The Silver-Haired Coven Envoy
Hear the final invocation: our protection rests upon your judgment and your presence. Without your will, no veil shields us, no covenant stands.
The sigils tighten into a radiant crown above the kneeling circle, then hold there, awaiting Kael’s response as every chant falls silent.
Sanctify the covens' devotion