ClutterThe sanctuary, empty and bathed in darkness, was only lit by the flickering candlelight of a few sconces. The shadows danced across the depictions of great heroes of old as well as the scriptural stories of the great Truth-Bringer. One of the frescoes was of a red-headed woman standing tall in white flowing robes and a golden staff in her hand, unleashing rays of light that shot out in every direction. In the corners of the work sat cowering figures of darkness, their forms exaggerated in to depictions of unwavering despair in the presence of this great figure.
It was this same great figure who stood behind the altar, her form immortalized in gold and towering over the pulpit. She looked upward, as if she were searching for some truth of her own. Her robed body concealed her form, granting her a chaste and authoritarian look. However, her hands were cupped below her navel in a maternal basket. Resting within that cradled pose was an egg engraved with runes and markings of ancient and a