The morning after the Holy Festival smelled of rain and ashes.
Elara walked through the quiet streets of Luminaris, her hood drawn low. The jubilant banners from the night before fluttered limply, their colors dulled by the mist. What had been laughter and prayer hours ago now lingered like an echo, brittle and hollow.
Kael walked beside her, silent. His eyes were shadowed, haunted by what they'd seen during the festival—the lifeless bodies behind the Temple's walls, the priests chanting blessings while drawing life away from the faithful.
"Do you think anyone noticed?" he asked finally after hesitating for awhile.
Elara shook her head. "No. They were too busy praising the Holy Lord."
They turned into a narrow street lined with shuttered shops. Their usual meeting stall stood empty except for the old vendor sweeping the rainwater into the gutter. She gave them a brief glance, recognition flickering in her tired eyes, then turned away.
When they sat down, Kael leaned forward, voice low. "We need to talk about that map. You didn't tell me everything."
Elara hesitated. The parchment, hidden under her robe, felt heavier than it should. "There's nothing to tell. It's a map, that's all."
He frowned. "A map handed to you by a ghost in a mask, during a time when the Order's hunting anyone remotely connected to dark arts?"
"I'm aware," she said sharply, then lowered her tone. "But that figure seems to knew something".
Kael studied her. "You keep saying that word like it means something more."
"It's not important," Elara lied.
"It is when you flinch every time someone mentions it."
Her jaw tightened. "Kael—"
He sighed, rubbing his temple. "Fine. You don't want to talk about it, I'll drop it. But this isn't something we can run from forever, Elara. Whatever's happening in the Order, it's connected to you somehow."
Elara looked away. The rain dripped from the stall's awning, tapping rhythmically against the table. She wanted to tell him everything—the contract with Lucian, the forbidden arts she practiced in secret, the way her power sometimes pulsed like a heartbeat beneath her skin. But she couldn't. The lesser he knew, the safer he'd be.
She forced a small smile. "We'll figure it out. One thing at a time."
Kael didn't return the smile.
---
By afternoon, the skies cleared. Luminaris sparkled again as if nothing had changed. But whispers began to spread—rumors of refugees vanishing after the Holy Festival, entire families gone overnight.
Kael caught wind of it first. "More disappearances," he muttered as they walked past the Temple gates. "Third case in two days."
Elara's expression darkened. "It's the Order cleaning up traces. The ritual must've left something behind."
Before Kael could reply, the Temple bells rang—three slow chimes that made the air vibrate. A crowd gathered near the front courtyard, murmuring excitedly.
"Elara," Kael said under his breath, "we shouldn't stay here."
"Wait." She tugged him behind one of the marble pillars. "Something's happening."
At the top of the stairs stood Mother Aveline, her white robes glimmering under the sun. Her presence silenced the crowd instantly. She smiled—gentle, motherly, yet chillingly composed.
"Blessed children of Luminaris," she began, her voice echoing through the courtyard. "The Holy Festival reminds us of the light that banished the ancient darkness. But light must be tended, or shadows return."
Her gaze swept over the gathered devotees. Elara felt that look linger—subtle, and piercing as though the High Priestess could see straight through her.
"We must remain vigilant," Mother Aveline continued. "There are whispers of heresy, of dark practices resurfacing in secret. The Divine Order will conduct a purification across the city. We ask your faith, your prayers and your eyes."
Kael's face drained of color. "She's setting a net."
Elara whispered, "For people like us."
Aveline raised her hands, her tone serene. "The Holy Lord forgives those who repent, but spares none who hide the taint of evil."
The crowd bowed, muttering prayers. Elara stayed still, her stomach twisting. The words felt directed at her.
---
Later that evening, Elara returned alone to her small cottege near the edge of the city. She unrolled the crimson-tied parchment and spread it across the table. The map was old, drawn in fading ink, marked with sigils she didn't recognize.
A location circled in black ink: The Sanctum Below.
She traced the symbols with her fingers. "Beneath the library of shadows," she whispered softly as she was reminded of what the masked figure had said.
Her heart thudded. Could this be the library the Order kept sealed within the Temple's restricted archives?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock.
"Elara?"
She tensed but relaxed when Kael's voice followed. "It's me."
She opened the door, and Kael slipped inside, his cloak dripping rain. "I saw something strange. You might want to hear this."
"What is it?"
"Mother Aveline met privately with the inner priestesses tonight. I overheard some of it. Apparently, they're questioning anyone who behaved 'oddly' during the festival."
Elara's pulse quickened. "You think they saw me?"
"I don't know. But I heard one name." His expression darkened. "Yours."
She felt the blood drain from her face. "Who said it?"
"One of the inner priestesses. I think her name was Mira?"
Elara froze. The name hit like a slap. "Her?"
"You know her?"
"She used to torment me when we were children," Elara said bitterly. "Of course she's with the Order now. Pretending to be pure while feasting on others' faith."
Kael frowned. "Then she might have recognized you last night when you slipped out of the crowd."
Elara sank into a chair, mind racing. "If Aveline hears about that… she'll test me."
"Test you?"
"She's done it before," Elara whispered. "Years ago, when I was still in the Temple. She used to say she saw something in me—a spark, she called it. But when I started questioning the sermons, when I stopped believing… she turned cold."
Kael crouched beside her. "Then we must prepare. If they summon you, act like you always have been devout, obedient. They can't know you're—"
"A liar?" Elara's laugh was hollow. "That's what I've been all along."
---
The next morning came with a pale sunrise.
As Elara crossed the marketplace, whispers followed her like the rustle of dry leaves. People nodded respectfully, some curious, others wary.
Near the Temple steps, Mira stood with two other priestesses. Her golden hair glimmered in the light, and her lips curved into a knowing smile.
"Well, well. Look who crawled back from obscurity," Mira said sweetly. "The lost child of the Temple."
Elara halted. "Still finding pleasure in others' misery, I see."
"Not misery," Mira purred, stepping closer. "It's curiosity. We all thought you were gone. Imagine our surprise seeing you slip out of a dark alley during the Holy Festival. Following Priest Aldric, no less."
A few devotees nearby turned to listen. Elara forced a calm expression. "You must be mistaken."
Mira's eyes gleamed. "Am I? Mother Aveline will decide that."
Elara's heartbeat quickened. She could feel Kael's warning echo in her mind: Act devout. Stay calm.
She bowed her head slightly. "Then I'll gladly answer her questions. The Holy Lord knows my faith is pure."
Mira's smile faltered for just a second. "We'll see."
The priestess turned, her robes brushing against Elara's arm as she walked away.
Elara exhaled slowly. Her hands were cold.
She didn't notice the acolyte watching from the shadows who darted away the moment Mira disappeared.
---
That night of the ongoing Holy Festival, in the Temple's highest chamber, Mother Aveline stood by the window overlooking the city. Candles flickered around her like tiny suns.
Mira knelt beside her, voice trembling. "I saw her, Mother Aveline. I swear it was Elara. She came out of the eastern alley during the Festival. That's where Priest Aldric went last night."
Aveline didn't speak for a long time. Her eyes remained fixed on the horizon where the sun had long since sunk.
Finally, she said, "Elara… the child I once rescued from the gutter. I had hoped she would walk the path of light."
"She's hiding something," Mira pressed. "Perhaps she's been colluding with the heretics."
Aveline turned, her expression unreadable. "Perhaps. Or perhaps she's lost and needs guidance."
She stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on Mira's shoulder. "Summon her tomorrow. Alone."
Mira bowed, hiding a flicker of jealousy. "As you command."
When she left, Aveline lingered by the window, her eyes distant.
"She was always too curious for her own good," she murmured softly. "Let us see if that curiosity still burns or if the darkness has claimed her entirely."
Outside, thunder rolled over the horizon.