CREEEEAK—
Astrael pushed the door and stepped into the room, drying the last traces of water from his damp hair, now dressed in his fresh clothes. Imdiately, everyone’s attention fell on him present in the room. Three people were sitting there. One is obvious: his father. And the other two were unfamiliar.
Astrael’s gaze swept across the room.
His father, Baron Kaelen, sat at the head of the table, hands folded neatly atop a sealed docunt. His expression was unreadable. Seated opposite him were two strangers.
The first was a man clad in the immaculate white and gold robes. His long sleeves bore the embroidered insignia of a radiant sun with thirteen rays. He was young, but unnaturally so, his features too smooth, too perfect. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
The second figure beside him was a warrior with tall and broad stature. His armour was simple, a white cloak draped across one shoulder, marked by the sa sun insignia. His eyes were cold.
The priest spoke first.
"You must be the Astrael Ravenastra."
His voice was smooth, gentle laced sweetness.
Astrael stepped forward and gave a small bow.
Baron Kaelen’s voice broke the silence, "Astrael, this is Father Lucien. Beside him is Ser Deyros, a Knight of the Thirteenth Vigil."
Lucien offered a gentle nod, folding his hands together in his lap. His posture was graceful
Ser Deyros remained still, the faintest dip of his head the only sign of acknowledgnt. His armor creaked faintly as he shifted, but his hand never strayed far from his sword.
Astrael’s gaze lingered on it a second longer than necessary.
"Astrael, they are from the Church." he said calmly, "and they’ve co with questions. Regarding the incident at mysterious dungeon."
Astrael blinked. The dungeon. He kept his expression neutral, but his spine stiffened slightly.
"You an... the rift?" he asked carefully.
Lucien smiled again, serene and unsettling.
"Yes. That... anomaly."
He tilted his head.
"A child, no offense, able to exit a dungeon none could even map, let alone survive... it has understandably drawn our attention."
Astrael said nothing.
Lucien laced his fingers together.
"You were the only known survivor, young lord."
"The only...?"
Astrael blinked, confused.
"Wait, what do you an ’only’?"
Lucien’s eyes twinkled faintly
"That dungeon wasn’t unique to your region."
"Similar rifts have appeared across the continent. Dozens, if not more. Our agents have recorded over seventy-five such appearances in the last month alone."
Kaelen’s eyes flicked to his son, but he said nothing.
"And out of all those who entered..." Lucien’s tone dropped.
"Only one returned."
Astrael’s breath caught.
"."
Lucien nodded slowly.
"Yes. You."
"Why?" Astrael asked softly, half to himself.
Lucien leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.
"That’s what we’re here to discover."
"So, tell what happened in that dungeon," he said calmly."Every detail. Spare nothing." Father Lucien questioned with a smile which was nothing like.
Astrael’s eyes flicked toward his father. Baron Kaelen gave him no command. No gesture. Just an unreadable stare.
Then Astrael looked at Ser Deyros—still silent.
He took a slow breath then nodded.
"There—"
***
A short ti later.
Outside the Ravenastra estate.
The massive double doors of the mansion swung closed behind them with a heavy thud.
Father Lucien stepped into the afternoon light, his white and gold robes catching the breeze as he descended the steps beside Ser Deyros.
For a mont, neither of them spoke.
Then, the priest sighed, hands tucked into his sleeves, his expression thoughtful.
"What do you think, Deyros?" Lucien asked at last, in a low voice.
"Was the child telling the truth?"
The knight walked a few paces behind before speaking.
His tone was quiet, but absolute.
"He believes what he said."
Lucien raised a brow slightly.
"But that doesn’t an it is true."
"No." Deyros agreed. "But it’s close enough. And sothing is... unsettling about him."
Lucien paused at the bottom of the steps. His gaze lifted toward the sky, thoughtful.
"He’s either the luckiest fool in Eldoria... or the trigger to sothing that’s been waiting a very long ti."
Deyros didn’t respond.
Lucien’s smile returned, this ti colder.
"Either way," he murmured, "keep eyes on him. The Light will not ignore this anomaly."
He turned, and they vanished into the waiting carriage, wheels creaking over polished stone as the wind whispered over the estate.
The doors shut behind them with a heavy, echoing thud.
"Phew!"
Astrael sighed in relief.
"That was a bit intimidating," Astrael said.
Astrael let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His shoulders dropped, and he ran a hand down his face, wiping away the sweat
He felt like he’d just walked through a field of invisible blades, each question threatening to cut sothing loose if he stepped the wrong way.
He turned to his father, expecting him to just nod. But he smiled unexpectedly, "Good, son". And with that, he left the room.
"So that’s it, huh?" Astrael muttered to himself
"I liked the priest."
A voice humd in his mind, smooth, amused, and irritatingly chipper.
"Very polite. For soone radiating a suppressed killing aura."
Astrael’s eyes narrowed.
"You were listening the whole ti."
"I am inside your soul, genius. "
He flopped into the nearest chair with a groan.
"Why didn’t you say anything then?"
"Because you were doing fine. Mostly. You only fumbled on the tiline, contradicted yourself twice, and kept sweating like a pig before the market."
Astrael growled.
"You could’ve warned they’d be like that."
"Oh, please. You think I have ti to keep track of every shiny-robed Light cult on this continent?"
Astrael leaned back, hands laced behind his head.
"So... what do you think they were really after?"
There was a pause.
Then, her voice returned in a softer and playful tone. Teasing in a way that sohow felt more dangerous than her sarcasm.
"How would I know?" She said in an adorable way.
"How would I know?" she said, her tone suddenly shifting into an adorable, wide-eyed mimicry, as if she were feigning total innocence.
"I’m just a poor, ancient sword spirit with limited divine omniscience."
Astrael snorted.
"You can stop that voice."
"No, I really can’t," she replied, sweetly. "It’s part of my charm."
He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.
Instead, his gaze drifted toward the high windows, where faint daylight spilled into the study.
He rembered Miss Greta’s classes.
***
🌟 Hey, fellow traveller of tales and treasures! 🧭 Your presence here is a journey filled with surprises, like uncovering hidden gems 💎. Isn’t it fascinating how a little GOLDEN ✨ sothing can change everything? 💛
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