The convent silenced better than any grave.
In the mornings that followed, the bells rang again — as if nothing had happened. The metallic sound pierced Kael's eardrums like a cruel reminder that the world there kept turning… even when people vanished.
Arua didn't return.
There was no funeral, no mourning. Not even a whisper. Just an empty bed, a fresh fold in the robe... and a void in Kael's gaze that not even the plateau's sun could warm.
During midday prayers, Kael kept his eyes closed, but his clenched fists betrayed his devotion. Arua's absence didn't feel like divine punishment.
It felt like execution.
And faith… was starting to creak inside his bones.
"Was Arua really purified?"
That was the day Maedros summoned him.
Kael didn't know the master well. He only saw him from afar — a shadow that walked with the posture of someone who had carried wars on his shoulders. They said he was one of the few humans capable of speaking with Seraphim and still remaining human. Or almost.
His white robe dragged dust from ancient times, and his eyes — sharp like sacred nails — carried stories no one dared to speak aloud.
They said Maedros once killed a demon without a Bond. Only with his dagger.
They also said he had burned three inquisitors alive for judging humans without the Trone's consent.
Maedros didn't teach. He branded.
The room Kael entered smelled of old incense and dry metal. There were stained books, scrolls with scratched-out glyphs, and a mirror clouded with shadow — as if the reflection itself feared what it might reveal.
— "Close the door, aspirant." — he said, without lifting his gaze.
Kael obeyed.
Maedros wrote with a bluish, glowing quill. But as Kael approached, the light faded.
— "Name?" — asked the master, flatly.
— "Kael. No surname."
— "No Bond either."
Kael nodded.
Maedros stopped writing. Finally, he looked up — and it was as if he saw straight through him. As if he saw even the things Kael didn't know how to name.
— "The few times I've seen you around here, you were always with that girl… What was her name again?"
— "Arua." — Kael answered, his voice tight. A faint venom. A protest restrained.
— "They said she was sent for reflection."
— "Do you believe that?"
Kael hesitated. Doubt was sin. But here, silence was too.
— "No." — he finally said.
Maedros leaned back slowly in the stone chair. Folded his hands. Studied Kael like a blacksmith inspecting raw steel.
— "You thirst for knowledge. That's dangerous in here."
— "Then why did you call me?"
— "Because it's even more dangerous out there."
Kael swallowed hard. Maedros stood. He was taller than he seemed, and his presence filled the room like a coming judgment.
— "Forces are moving. District 6 is to be purified tomorrow. A Seraphim will descend."
— "Uriel…" — Kael whispered, the name falling like a shiver.
— "Yes. The Dogma's Executor. The Flame That Purifies." — Maedros said bitterly. — "When he touches the ground, no sins remain… but neither do innocents."
Kael didn't respond.
Because he already knew.
Because the name Uriel made something tremble inside him.
— "I need you to do something," said Maedros. "Watch. Don't interfere. But see everything."
— "Why?"
— "Because your doubt might become something more valuable than blind faith."
Kael nodded. He was turning to leave when Maedros's voice cut through the air one last time:
— "And if you dream… pay attention. Not all echoes come from inside your head."
🜏
That night, Kael couldn't sleep.
Maedros's words gnawed at him. Arua was still gone. And every corner of the convent felt... alert. As if walls had eyes.
When sleep finally claimed him — he fell into embers.
At the heart of the fire, a woman's figure.
Eyes like spirals. A body made of heavy smoke. A dual voice, impossible to understand.
But the words… he felt them in his chest.
They cut.
They whispered.
"Kael…""You are mud. But also blade.""Do not kneel before the Order. Become the Fire."
He woke with dry lips and a throat that burned.
🜏
The next morning, the convent felt colder. More hollow.
All students were gathered in the Great Hall. The columns trembled with the vibration of the ritual speaker.
— "District 6 confirmed as a contamination zone."
— "The opening failed. Corruption risk remains."
— "Purification authorized by the Throne. Executor assigned: Uriel."
Kael's stomach sank.
He knew District 6. Knew the homes. The voices. The people.
And then, one final note:
— "Novice Arua was deployed as a scout to the site."
Kael froze.
There were stories…
About scouts sent as bait."To detect corruption."But no one ever returned.
Maedros stood at the back, arms crossed.And he looked at Kael with eyes like blades.
Kael ran before the call to prayer began.
Because he already knew.
Because the blood-soaked bread now tasted like someone he once knew.
Because inside him…The fire already burned like dead faith.