The next morning, Finn brings Risa to the Sanctuary just after sunrise. The streets are still cloaked in a gentle mist, and the distant sound of bells tolling mixes with birdsong. The Sanctuary looms ahead, solemn and radiant under the waking sun.

  “I still can’t believe it... Sariah, of all people,” Risa mutters, waiting for her turn with the priest. Her arms are folded tightly across her chest, her foot tapping a restless rhythm on the polished stone floor.

  She hadn’t slept well. The night before, she’d been jolted awake by raised voices echoing from the street outside. Nyx was already up, wide-eyed and alert, and before she could ask anything, he told her Finn had rushed off to Gerard.

  She wanted to go after Finn. But Nyx wouldn’t let her follow.

  No matter how she argued, pleaded, or reasoned with him, Nyx stood his ground, stone-faced. Words bounced off him like pebbles against armour. Though he wasn’t gifted with speech, he wasn’t fooled by her persuasion either. She could neither outwit him nor overpower him. All she could do was sit. And wait.

  They ended up in a silent standoff; Risa, simmering with helpless frustration, and Nyx, calmly dutiful, just doing what he was told. The hours dragged.

  Eventually, after the blaze had been extinguished and the clamour died down, Finn still hadn’t returned. Risa, her nerves frayed, was about to lash out at Nyx again when the door finally creaked open. Finn stepped in before the sun rose.

  He looked tired, but untouched. Unscathed.

  “Finn! You should’ve woken me!” Risa snapped, rising from the bed. “What happened? I tried to go after you, but Nyx blocked me!” Her voice trembled with a mix of anger and relief.

  Nyx blinked, confused. Hadn’t he just followed Finn’s instructions?

  Caught between Risa’s wide, accusing eyes and Nyx’s blank, innocent ones, Finn raised a hand to settle them both. He gave a brief rundown of what had happened, though not in full detail—just enough to calm the storm in her.

  Now, back in the present, Risa is called into a chamber by a nun. She disappears through the door, leaving the two behind in the quiet waiting area, where sunlight streaks through high windows and paints the marble floor in pale gold.

  Not long after, Gerard arrives. His eyes are red-rimmed from lack of sleep, and his jaw is clenched tight.

  “Thanks for arranging Risa’s check-up,” Finn says, rising to greet him. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be knee-deep in clearing the mess Sariah left behind?”

  Gerard nods once. His gaze flicks briefly to Nyx.

  Finn notices. “Nyx, wait here for Risa. I need to speak with Gerard in private.”

  Nyx holding Cocoa in one hand, gives a wordless nod, settling obediently back onto the bench.

  Gerard leads Finn into a nearby study, where the door is heavy and the light dimmer. Finn raises a hand and casts a sound-masking spell with a subtle shimmer in the air.

  “This is about Nyx,” Gerard begins, his tone low.

  “I figured.” Finn leans against the edge of a table. “Thank you, by the way, for stopping Sariah before she said more about him. Let me guess. She wanted the knights to start sniffing around Nyx?”

  Gerard folds his arms. “I haven’t reported anything yet. That’s why I came to you first.”

  Finn studies him. “Just curious… how do you see him?”

  “A quiet magic prodigy.”

  Finn ponders and adds. “That’s part of it. But there’s more to him. Things we haven’t seen yet. Maybe things he hasn’t realised himself. That’s why I need to take him to Osemond. There’s a professor there who might be able to help.”

  Gerard’s brow furrows. “Do you think Sariah was trying to manipulate us into suspecting his relationship with their so-called envoy?”

  “Could be,” Finn replies. “If we report him now, we might be doing exactly what she wants.”

  “Then I’d be playing into her hands,” Gerard murmurs, more to himself.

  Finn shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. We don’t know her endgame yet. The pieces don’t quite fit together.”

  Gerard nods slowly. “Let me think it over. I’ll give you my answer before your departure.”

  “Take your time. I’ll be at the inn.”

  With that, Gerard returns to the investigation scene, and Finn heads back to the waiting place. As he approaches, Nyx rises and gestures silently.

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  “She’s done?”

  Nyx nods, and Finn walks to the door, giving a gentle knock.

  “Come in,” a soft voice calls from inside.

  He enters, with Nyx at his heels.

  “Mr Finn, is it? Please, take a seat.” The Sanctifier gestures with a nod toward the bench beside Risa.

  Her nameplate reads Sanctifier Aurelien. Her hair is a smooth, silvery grey, catching the morning light like woven moonlight. Her robe is dignified but plain, a reflection of quiet authority.

  Finn sits beside Risa. “Thank you for seeing her so early. Did you find anything?”

  Aurelien’s voice remains soft but steady. “There is a curse upon her. One tied to her soul. Complicated and strong. I’m sorry, but it’s beyond my capabilities to remove it.”

  Risa stiffens beside him. Finn’s jaw clenches.

  “But don’t be alarmed,” Aurelien continues gently. “Just because I can’t undo it doesn’t mean no one can.”

  “It’s the same kind of curse we found on Daisy. Designed to control and silence the cult’s followers. The curse only activates under two conditions: if the victim breaks a rule of the cult, or if the caster is nearby.”

  Finn narrows his eyes. “Then Daisy… She might have died for revealing information. Or Sariah could’ve activated it directly.”

  Aurelien nods, the sunlight glinting off her silver hair. “Possibly both. But in Risa’s case, she’s fortunate. The curse can only be triggered by proximity because the first condition requires the subject’s conscious consent to be embedded into the curse. And Risa didn’t give any.”

  Risa exhales softly. “Not sure if that’s good news… But at least it’s not the worst.”

  Finn leans forward. “How do we remove it?”

  "We’ll continue studying the curse, but it could take months—years, even—to break it."

  Risa shakes her head. “I can’t wait that long. I want to sit the entrance exam for The Academy. Can I still use magic?”

  Aurelien smiles. “Yes, of course. In the meantime, I can cast a restriction field around the curse to reduce the distance needed for it to activate.”

  “How close would the caster need to be?” Finn asks.

  “It’s uncharted territory,” she admits. “But I know someone in Pantmawr who’s more experienced with cursecraft. She may be able to do more than I can.”

  “Can you write us a letter? We can head to Pantmawr right away.”

  “I’ll do one better.” She smiles. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to accompany you. It’s time I paid my friend a visit anyway.”

  Finn’s eyes light up. “We’d be honoured.”

  Aurelien chuckles. “Lovely. I’ll arrange a carriage. Unlike you youngsters, I’m not as spry as I used to be.” Her tone is both gentle and resolute. “How about you guys meet me here the morning after tomorrow?”

  With that, they part ways with warm thanks and step out into the sunlight streaming through the grand Sanctuary hall.

  Suddenly, a commotion shatters the serenity.

  “Sir, please stop, or we’ll have to bring you out!” a priest shouts.

  “Please—I just want to see my wife!” a man’s voice cries, hoarse and cracking.

  Finn’s eyes widen. He knows that voice.

  Bren.

  He turns and sees the man. He is dishevelled, clothes rumpled, beard unshaven, eyes wild. Two knights block his advance. A few onlookers gather nearby, murmuring behind their hands.

  Bren is about to fall to his knees before the priests. “She’s my wife. Please, I just want to see her.”

  Finn steps forward. “He helped me before. I’ll talk to him.”

  Bren looks up, desperate, and grabs onto Finn’s coat. “Finn! It’s Daisy—she’s… she…”

  “Easy,” Finn says, steadying him with both hands. “Let’s find somewhere quiet.”

  They move to a corner of the hall, away from the murmuring crowd.

  Bren’s words come in a rush. “She left a letter. Said she needed to go into town. I didn’t think much of it. She’s never done that before. I searched for days—and then the knights told me…”

  He breaks off, voice cracking.

  “They said she was part of the kidnapping. But she’s not! She’s the kindest soul I’ve ever known. There must be some mistake. Please, Finn. Take me to her. Let me see her. Let me talk to her.”

  Finn places a hand firmly on Bren’s shoulder. “Why did you come to the Sanctuary?”

  Bren’s eyes widen, brimming with desperation. He stammers, voice trembling. “Th-the knights… they said I could find Daisy here. But none of the priests or nuns—none of them know where she is.”

  Finn meets his gaze. Steady, unflinching. A quiet breath escapes him as he prepares to say what no one else will. “Bren… I know it’s a lot to take in. But…” He exhales slowly, and his words come out with quiet finality—measured, yet merciless. “Daisy was one of the Echoes of Ascendence. She died… from a curse the cult had carved into her. And she is now resting in the Sanctuary’s morgue.”

  The truth cuts like jagged glass. Sharp, cruel, and impossible to soften. Finn watches as it lands.

  Bren doesn’t move. His face drains of all colour, lips parted in disbelief. He tries to speak, but only a whisper escapes. “...N-no. That can’t be. The knights told me I could find my wife here. Please… take me to her. She’s waiting.”

  “Bren…”

  “She’s just a kind, harmless woman. She has nothing to do with any of this!”

  Finn’s silence weighs heavily in the stillness, and Bren clutches at that silence as if it were hope.

  “There has to be a mistake,” Bren insists, his voice growing more fragile by the second. “Maybe she was forced. Maybe—maybe they used her—”

  “Bren!” Finn’s voice rises—not loud, but firm enough to snap through the fog. “The evidence. Her own words. It all points to the truth.”

  The fire in Bren’s eyes gutters. He sways, knees buckling under the weight of what he refuses to believe.

  Seeing the man unravel, Finn’s voice softens. He takes a half-step forward, gentler now, and sighs. “I’m sorry. I truly am. When the curse activated… it happened too fast. None of us could help her in time.”

  Bren’s breath shudders. His hands tremble. He sinks to his knees on the stone floor, the strength gone from his legs, and the rest of him crumbles soon after.

  Around them, the hall is quiet. Cold sunlight spills through the tall, stained-glass windows of the Sanctuary, casting fractured patterns across the marble floor. The silence presses in, heavy with the weight of grief—too vast, too sudden.

  Finn watches in silence, eyes clouded with sorrow. The sight pulls him back—back to that familiar ache he thought he had buried. The same pain. The same helplessness.They still linger, just beneath his calm exterior.