Only after everyone had finished offering their blood did the older woman finally speak her name.
"I am Paula," she said gently, her voice still warm and motherly. "And I am pleased to tell you that our Deity has accepted your offerings."
Sighs of relief rippled through the room.
Several petitioners smiled, others clasped their hands together, and a few even wept quietly. Ronan felt something stir inside him as well – a flicker of artificial happiness. It felt muted, though, easy enough to suppress once he noticed it, but the fact that it existed at all confirmed his suspicion.The ritual was impacting their emotions and thoughts in some way.
Then the scarred man from before came and whispered something into Paula's ear, and something shifted in her expression. Her eyes lit up.
Paula clasped her hands together, joy radiating from her gentle face as she surveyed the gathered petitioners.
