It smells of damp earth and honey; it’s recently rained, and the path to the The Kraedamana is long and winding.

Your feet carry you through even as your mind wanders, your offering basket heavy in your grasp—and when you kneel before the fountain, the wish comes easy, but the drachma is fleeting in your palm, a wisp for the soul.

“For me?” Valeria’s always been around, your village’s protector. The nymph.

She’s grinning now, slinking through the temple garden, a sly thing. “How generous,”