700 years earlier
Gwyn sat in the second-largest room of the jungle temple, the newest constructed of the set, meditating. Through her mostly closed eyes, she could see only the faintest flickers of the candles in the room with her. There was a swirling sensation in the room, an activation of energy, power, healing, and life. Gwyn opened herself to the gods, to the entities beyond, allowing the flow of energy to move through her, knowing it would align her own energies for future work even while the complex design of the structure allowed also for healing another.
The queen had fallen ill, and the Scarab Song priests and priestesses had been requested to help. They had performed many healings before, and Gwyn thought this one would be no different. Since lining up the pyramids along the magnetic lines of the curved earth, they could do so much more than Gwyn ever dreamed possible--moving mountains with their minds, communicating across great distances, healing and activating the sick.
Something's wrong, Gwyn heard in her mind. It was Kashiri, no doubt about that. And Gwyn had never heard Kashiri concerned.
All at once, Gwyn felt a rumble underneath her, and she felt like she was falling, though she still touched the ground. Was the ground itself falling? How was that possible?
The candles fell over and went out, leaving Gwyn in utter darkness. And before long, the swirling gusts of jungle air that had kept Gwyn company in her meditation left entirely.