The silence stretched between them like a held breath. Each person around the circle seemed to be turning over Pip's revelation, weighing what it meant for their small community of healing souls. The Order wasn't just competing with them—they were harvesting vulnerability like a crop, using people's deepest wounds as tools for manipulation and control.
Gary watched the emotions play across his family's faces. Miriel's hands had gone back to tracing nervous patterns on the table, her recent confidence shaken by the realization that her magical trauma could be weaponized against her. Dr. Elara stared into her tea with the particular intensity she reserved for diagnosing complicated cases. Korven's jaw worked steadily, the muscle jumping as he processed anger that had nowhere useful to go. Thorne sat mountain-still, but Gary could see the calculations behind his eyes.
And Pip... Pip looked smaller somehow, as if sharing his dangerous knowledge had cost him something vital.
"So what's next?" The words slipped out of Dr. Elara's mouth before she seemed to realize she'd spoken them aloud. She blinked, focusing on the group as if surprised to find herself asking the question that was echoing in all their minds.
Gary set down his ale and leaned forward, his centuries of experience guiding him toward the kind of steady leadership his family needed right now.
"Next, we don't panic," he said, echoing his earlier words but with more weight behind them now. "And we remember that knowledge is power—even dangerous knowledge. Especially dangerous knowledge."
"But what do we do with it?" Miriel asked quietly. "Pip risked a lot sharing that with us. We can't just... sit on it."
Korven's voice was rough with barely contained anger. "We use it. March right up to their temple and shove their corruption in their faces. See how they like being exposed."
"That's not strategy, that's suicide," Thorne rumbled. "They got power, resources, official backing. We got... what? A tavern and good intentions?"
"We've got truth," Pip said, speaking up for the first time since his revelation. His voice was steadier now, as if voicing his secret had actually strengthened him rather than weakened him. "And we've got each other."
"Truth doesn't stop assassins," Korven shot back. "And found family doesn't deflect official sanctions."
Gary held up a hand before the discussion could spiral into argument. "You're both right, in your way. Korven—the direct approach has merit, but Thorne's not wrong about the power imbalance. And Pip, Miriel—truth and loyalty are indeed powerful weapons, but they need to be wielded carefully."
He paused, considering how much to reveal. His family deserved to understand the full scope of what they were facing, and what resources they might have to draw upon.
"The thing is," Gary continued slowly, "we're not quite as alone in this as it might seem. I mentioned having someone who attended these meetings years ago. Someone who knows the difference between healing and exploitation." He met each of their eyes in turn. "I think it's time I told you about Brother Marcus."
The name settled into the circle like a stone dropped into still water, creating ripples of curiosity and speculation.
"Brother Marcus was a junior cleric in the Divine Order about twenty-five years ago," Gary began, his voice taking on the cadence of someone sharing a long-held story. "He'd been involved in what they called a 'cleansing mission' in the northern villages—rooting out what they claimed was demonic influence among the farming communities."
Dr. Elara shifted uncomfortably. "What kind of cleansing?"
"The ugly kind," Gary said grimly. "Turned out there was no demonic influence. Just a community healing practice run by local wise women who knew herbcraft and midwifery. But the Order's local representative saw opportunity in eliminating the competition and claiming credit for 'purifying' the region."
Pip's hands tightened around his cider mug. "Let me guess—the wise women didn't survive the cleansing."
"Three of them didn't. Marcus was there when it happened. Young, idealistic, believing he was serving the greater good right up until the moment he watched his superior fabricate evidence and order the execution of women whose only crime was helping their neighbors heal."
The Zone of Truth hummed softly around Gary's words, confirming the painful history he was sharing.
"By the time he understood what he'd been part of, it was too late to save them. But he managed to save some of the written records—evidence of the fabrication, proof that the Order had murdered innocent healers for territory and prestige."
Thorne leaned forward. "That's why he came to you."
"Aye. He was carrying guilt heavy enough to crush mountains, and trauma from watching his faith be corrupted into something evil. Took him months to even speak about what happened. Years to work through the guilt of surviving when they didn't."
Gary's voice softened with memory. "But he did work through it. Slowly, carefully, with the help of this group and his own determination to make amends. He never stopped believing in the Order's original mission—healing, comfort, spiritual guidance. He just learned to tell the difference between that mission and the corruption that had twisted it."
"What happened to him?" Miriel asked.
"He went back," Gary said simply. "Decided that the best way to honor the women who died was to fight the corruption from within. Last I heard, he'd worked his way up to a position where he could actually influence policy. Been quietly pushing the Order back toward its healing roots ever since."
Korven's expression had shifted from anger to something more complex. "And you think he'll help us?"
"I think he'll want to know what's happening here. And I think he'll want to understand what Pip overheard, because it confirms what he's been fighting against all these years."
Dr. Elara was nodding slowly, her analytical mind working through the implications. "So we have an inside ally who understands both the corruption and how to work within the system to combat it."
"Potentially," Gary cautioned. "I haven't spoken to Marcus in over a decade. People change, positions change, and institutional pressure can wear down even the most principled souls."
"But it's worth trying," Pip said. It wasn't quite a question.
Gary smiled, proud of the courage his family was showing even in the face of institutional power arrayed against them. "Aye, it's worth trying. But carefully. If Marcus is still fighting the good fight, then approaching him wrong could endanger everything he's worked for. And if he's been compromised or corrupted..." Gary let the sentence hang unfinished.
"Then we're walking into a trap," Thorne completed grimly.
"Exactly. So we approach this like the delicate operation it is. I reach out through careful channels, test the waters, see if the Marcus I knew is still the Marcus who holds his current position."
Miriel cleared her throat hesitantly. "What if... what if this is bigger than just protecting ourselves? What if this is about protecting everyone the Order is exploiting?"
The question hung in the air like incense, heavy with moral weight. Gary could see his family processing the implications—that their small fight for the right to heal in their own way might be connected to a much larger struggle against institutional corruption.
"Then we're not just defending ourselves," Dr. Elara said quietly. "We're part of something bigger. Something that matters beyond just our little circle."
Korven's expression had shifted again, this time toward something that might have been hope. "You mean... we might actually be able to do some good here? Make a real difference?"
"We already make a real difference," Gary reminded him gently. "Every week, in this room, with each other. But yes—if Marcus is still fighting the corruption, and if we can provide him with the information and support he needs, then we might be able to help heal something much larger than individual trauma."
Pip was quiet for a long moment, then looked up with an expression Gary hadn't seen from him before—determination mixed with something that might have been pride.
"So when do you reach out to him?" Pip asked.
Gary considered the question seriously. "Soon. But not from here, and not through any channel that could be traced back to the tavern. I'll need to be careful, clever, and probably a bit lucky."
"And if he can't help?" Thorne asked. "Or won't?"
"Then we fall back on ourselves, our community, and the truth we carry," Gary said simply. "Same as we always have. But at least we'll know we tried to find allies before we decided to fight alone."
Around the circle, Gary could see his family settling into resolve. Not the desperate kind that came from having no choices, but the steady kind that came from understanding the stakes and choosing to meet them anyway.
"One more thing," he added, his voice carrying the weight of centuries spent protecting those who couldn't protect themselves. "Whatever we decide to do, whatever risks we choose to take, we do it together. No one acts alone, no one bears this burden without the others, and no one gets left behind."
The Zone of Truth pulsed around his words like a blessing.
"Together," Miriel repeated, and for the first time since Thorne had asked his loaded question, she sounded completely certain.
"Together," the others echoed, and Gary felt the familiar warmth of watching his chosen family choose each other once again.
Outside, the night had fully settled over the city, but inside the Waystone Tavern, six people began the careful work of planning not just their defense, but their contribution to a fight that might be larger and more important than any of them had imagined.