Ara-dul moved through the Church of Saints' plaza with deliberate care, allowing his bandaged frame to dissolve into the slow rhythm of bodies passing through. His mask hid what little of his face remained unmarred, and the layered cloth wrapped around his arms and torso muted the faint whisper of movement beneath them.
The plaza was calm by design.
Clerics in white and gold crossed it in steady patterns, arm bands catching the light as they handed out water and bread. Priests lingered beneath banners bearing the Church's symbol, a dove clutching an olive branch, some speaking softly, others simply breathing easier than they had before arriving. No guards. No barriers. Authority here wore kindness like a uniform.
A dragonkin woman stepped into his path.
Her robes were immaculate, white edged with gold thread, five arm bands marking her rank, Fifth. One of only two in Port Landa trusted to act with the Cardinal's implied authority.
"Elara," Ara-dul said, tilting his head.
"You've requested access to the ruins again," she replied. Her voice was calm, but her eyes were precise. "I've prepared the way. But you know my position. Without the Cardinal's explicit consent, I would not authorize the removal of anything beneath the city."
"You have his acknowledgment," Ara-dul replied.
Her jaw tightened. "Acknowledgment is not consent."
"You do not require his consent," he said evenly. "He demands obedience and I require cooperation."
The words were not raised. They did not need to be.
Elara studied him for a long moment. Her loyalty was not to Ara-dul, it was to the Cardinal and the doctrine that she so desperately believed. At last, she turned toward the stairwell leading beneath the church.
"Follow me."
The air cooled as they descended. Lanterns gave way to electric light, casting long shadows over stone walls worn smooth by centuries of pressure and passage. Ara-dul rested his gloved hand lightly on the railing, his attention already fixed ahead.
He felt the first node before he saw it.
The crystal pulsed quietly within the foundation, embedded as though the stone itself had grown around it. Its glow was steady, patient, unchanged by the city layered above.
Ara-dul crouched, inspecting without touching.
"These structures are why the Church is tolerated," Elara said. "We study them. Preserve them. Allow them to read our research. If the state believes we are interfering with the city's foundations—"
"They will not see anything," Ara-dul said. "If this is done correctly. And without interference."
"And if it isn't?" she pressed. "If the city reacts? What if Kalindor gets involved. Already other churches in the state are being scrutinized."
"Then the Church will endure scrutiny," he replied. "As it always has."
That was not reassurance. It was arithmetic. The Cardinal explained to him that the beliefs of the church have captured the masses. He could move without disturbing what the Cardinal already built.
The sound of soft shoes scraping the stone turned Ara-dul's attention to Veylan and four other clerics. Members of the zealous wing of the Church of Saints. They did not speak as they approached. They knew who he was and why he was there.
"Take me to the others," Ara-dul commanded.
Elara hid her contempt for being commanded well and led them to a concealed bulkhead. One of the lower ranked members walked over to a hidden latch and released it. A dull thud was heard somewhere deeper in the ruins.
The other three pushed open the wall, a hidden passage deeper into the ruins. Lights came on immediately. Two of the lower ranks activated flashlights, beams overlapping to form a steady wash down the tunnel. A third adjusted the angle so no shadow crossed Ara-dul's path.
He stepped forward without hesitation. He did not carry a light. He did not need one.
Veylan fell in behind him, posture rigid, eyes flicking between the passage ahead and the figures behind. Elara followed last, her gaze fixed not on Ara-dul, but on the stone.
The tunnel sloped downward, its dimensions uneven. Wider where excavation had been easy, tight where the stone resisted. Tool scars marred the walls, shallow, overlapping marks where drills had failed and been reapplied.
Yet beneath the damage, the stone remained singular.
No seams. No joins. No fitted courses.
The walls curved subtly, flowing into one another as if shaped by pressure and time rather than hands. Even where the Church had cut through, the foundation retained its continuity, one mass, unbroken, indifferent. From a time before, a time the Cardinal sought.
"This took years," Elara said quietly. "Slow work. Quiet work."
Ara-dul did not answer.
He moved with certainty, turning without pause, ducking beneath a low arch without slowing. This was not exploration. It was navigation.
"So this is the archive site," he murmured.
"Yes."
The second chamber opened without ornament or threshold. At its center stood the second crystal node. Larger and deeper set. Veins of light threaded beneath its surface, pulsing slowly. The surrounding stone bore no reinforcement, no braces, nothing to suggest it had ever required support.
Ara-dul stopped several paces short. He did not approach. He measured.
Elara watched him carefully. "Relocating this will leave a void," she said. "Symbolicly. Our people believe these are proof of our doctrine. To remove them..."
"It will be managed."
"You cannot promise that."
"I do not need to."
Veylan shifted uneasily.
Ara-dul continued, "The Cardinal has selected the locations. The order. The outcome."
"That does not erase the consequence," Elara said.
"It renders it irrelevant."
Silence followed.
The crystal pulsed on, unaware.
Ara-dul inclined his head. "We proceed."
They followed another hidden path, an excavated passage, this one older, rougher. The air grew damp. Flashlights revealed stone that looked less cut than coaxed aside, as though the tunnel had been carved reluctantly from something that preferred to remain whole.
The third chamber lay beneath a condemned maintenance site quietly claimed by the Church. The final node rested there, its glow fainter but unmistakable.
Ara-dul surveyed it once.
"Relocation will begin immediately," he said. "I am here to complete the order of the Cardinal, not to visit. Veylan, send for the helpers. Have them move the gear we brought into the city."
Elara stiffened. "Without informing the congregation?"
"They are not required to understand."
As she turned away, Ara-dul slowed just enough for Veylan to fall half a step behind him.
Quietly, without looking back, he said, "Mobilize the zealous cells. Begin preparing the chambers for removal. Move the devices into the church's lower storage. Carefully. I do not want Elara to see what is in them."
"Yes," Veylan whispered.
Elara did not hear.
Above ground, the plaza continued its measured calm. Clerics spoke softly. Arm bands glinted in the sun.
Ara-dul emerged into the light, bandages shifting faintly beneath his coat.
"There is one more," he murmured to himself.
The Cardinal had spoken of it only to him before he arrived at the city. That was the critical location. He was given detailed instructions on how to find it. A chamber yet discovered that held what the Cardinal sought. He would find it. It was what the Cardinal demanded.
Ara-dul looked out across the city.
"It will be fulfilled. The Cardinal demands it."
Elara watched him from the steps, unease etched across her features. She feared consequences. Ara-dul did not.