Part 1: Smoke Over Veilguard
The sky above Veilguard had changed.
No longer clear.
No longer honest.
Ash hung faintly in the high air, not from fires—but from containment rituals. Incense thick enough to sting the eyes burned from every cathedral spire, sweet-smelling to mask the stink of fear.
Yuji stood in the upper balcony of a merchant's villa they'd commandeered.
Below, the square filled with cloaked citizens—faces tense, heads low, watching the Church's robed clerics mount the sermon platform beneath the Veilgate Arch.
Siora stepped beside him, hood up. "They're not mourning Ash Spire."
"No," Yuji said. "They're just adjusting the narrative."
In the square, a bishop raised his voice—not harsh, not furious. Silken. Pained.
"Brothers and sisters, we weep for the lost. A holy research sanctum destroyed. A generation of spiritual scholars murdered by wild heresy. A sacred miracle twisted by a false prophet's hand."
Sylvia growled. "They're calling us terrorists."
"They have to," Amelia said from her seat across the room. "Anything else would be admitting they're not in control."
Down in the crowd, a new scroll was being nailed to the bounty board.
This one shimmered faintly—backed with divine glyphs.
Sacha looked through the spyglass and whistled. "That's Siora's name."
Siora didn't flinch.
Yuji took the glass.
Read the line at the bottom:
"Apprehend for questioning. If resistance is offered—purge is permitted."
"Purge," Yuji repeated. "That's new."
"Means they want a show," Amelia said. "Fear, not justice."
A hush spread through the crowd as a crystal relay orb floated into the sky—glowing violet.
A voice—cold, rich, and far too calm—poured out of it like wine made of poison.
"I am Cardinal Voran."
Every head bowed. Even the guards.
"Ash Spire was more than stone. It was vision. Its loss wounds us all. But let us not mistake decay for strength. Let us not confuse corruption for divinity."
Sylvia bristled. "He's talking about you."
"We will find this Fertility-bearer. We will reclaim the stolen power. And we will offer peace, not pain. Order, not chaos. Through fire, all things are made clean."
Siora's eyes sharpened. "That's an execution order disguised as grace."
Yuji turned from the balcony.
"We're not staying in the city."
Amelia stood. "Where?"
"Someplace they won't expect."
"Where's that?"
Yuji's voice was steady.
"Underground."
Part 2: Cardinal Voran's Decree
The speech echoed long after the relay orb dimmed.
But the silence it left behind was heavier.
Yuji stood in the room below the villa's rooftop, the girl they'd rescued—Nina—asleep on a makeshift bed of layered cloaks. Siora wiped sweat from her brow after finishing another slow healing weave.
"They're moving fast," Sylvia said, pacing near the window.
"They had this ready," Sacha growled. "You don't craft a decree and bounty net that wide overnight."
Yuji's fingers drummed against the hilt of his sword. "It was a provocation. Ash Spire falling gave them the excuse."
Amelia stirred her tea lazily with a silver spoon. "You noticed what he didn't say?"
Yuji looked up.
"He never denied the experiments," she said. "Never said it wasn't real. He only called it sacred."
Sylvia snarled. "They knew."
Siora pulled out a worn priest's tome—the kind found in old chapel walls. She flipped to a page marked in red wax. "This glyph," she said, "was behind Voran during his broadcast."
Yuji stepped closer. The symbol was elaborate. A blooming sun—but inverted, wrapped in binding chains.
Siora tapped it.
"It's from the Cleansing Doctrine. It hasn't been used in public for over a century."
Yuji scanned the text beneath.
"Through fire, all things are made clean."
The very phrase Voran had used.
"It was used," Siora continued, "during forced purges. Entire towns where 'divine correction' was needed."
Sylvia's tail flicked once. "He's declaring war."
Yuji exhaled slowly. "Not on us. On hope."
There was a beat of silence.
Then Amelia looked up from her cup. "He called you a false prophet. That wasn't just politics. He's planting a new religion. One built around fear and rot."
Yuji didn't blink. "Then we burn it from the roots."
He walked to the desk. Unrolled a clean scroll.
Drew a glyph.
The Fertility Mark.
But twisted—sharpened.
A declaration.
Amelia raised an eyebrow. "Starting a cult of your own?"
Yuji glanced at her. "No."
"Then what's that?"
"A warning."