Chapter 16: His Shattered Mask

The alley stank of blood, but for a second, Raziel’s mind disconnected from reality because a memory hit him.

It wasn’t a memory from this life and it was summer.

The academy courtyard was quiet, not like this dump, and the sunlight fell on the stone benches.

Raziel, fifteen years old and with that stupid confidence of someone who hasn’t died yet, was packing his stuff to go north.

“You leaving so soon, Raziel?”

That Lucian had a sad smile.

“Well,” that Lucian had said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “I just wanted to wish you luck, since the north is tough, but I know you’ll do great.”

He had patted him on the shoulder without arrogance and without mockery.

The memory broke and Raziel snapped back to the present.

“Are you a moron, Lucian?” Odessa’s voice sounded like a whip lash, pulling Raziel out of his trance.

The Paladin had her cousin cornered against the dirty brick wall.

Her eyes shone with fury because she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Do you have any idea how risky this is? Those substances aren’t toys, Lucian. They are addictive, dangerous and they ruin lives. You could have killed someone!”

Lucian, with a red face and his pride on the floor, mumbled something about “just a bit of fun” and that “he knew what he was doing”.

“Fun?” Odessa spat with disgust. “You call that fun? You are playing with fire while the whole Kingdom is on the edge of collapse and our faith is falling to pieces. You are a fool, Lucian, a spoiled fool who thinks his last name protects him from the darkness.”

She got closer, so Lucian shrank back, looking like a small child in front of a dragon.

“You are playing with fire, cousin,” she said, lowering her voice to a tone that was scarier than her screams. “And you are going to get burned.”

Raziel watched them from behind, feeling a knot in his stomach because suddenly he realized something terrifying.

He had always seen Lucian as just another arrogant noble of the bunch.

But this Lucian… the one trembling before his cousin, the one seeking comfort in forbidden drugs and who had stayed in the academy instead of running away to the easy life of nobility… was a complete stranger.

***

Half an hour later, the atmosphere had changed radically.

They were sitting in a crowded tavern, a place with dim light hidden in a side street to avoid curious eyes.

The air smelled of roast meat, spiced wine and sweat, a brutal contrast with the silence of their table.

Lucian, who had the emotional recovery capacity of a cockroach, was already back to his usual self.

He was flirting with a waitress and telling exaggerated stories about the capital, as if Odessa hadn’t been about to arrest him a while ago.

Odessa, on the other hand, hadn’t touched her food.

She kept her hood on, watching the door.

Raziel picked at his plate without hunger.

His mind was a whirlwind of calculations and strategies because he knew he had a golden opportunity.

He had a high-ranking Paladin in front of him.

If he played his cards right, he could use her.

“You’re very quiet, Raziel,” Lucian blurted out with a giggle, pushing a cup towards him. “Don’t like the city? Come on, try the wine. It’ll loosen your tongue.”

Raziel ignored him olympically and fixed his gaze on the armed woman.

“Sister… I mean, Lady Odessa,” he corrected quickly, remembering that, despite the armor, she was a noble. “I need your help.”

Odessa raised an eyebrow.

Her green eyes locked onto him, analyzing him as if he were a battle map.

“Help? With what, Brother Raziel?”

“It’s about… a friend,” he said, lowering his voice although the noise of the tavern covered them. “A friend who is missing.”

“A friend?” interrupted Lucian, with that mocking smile that made Raziel want to wipe it off with a punch. “Ah, yes, Raziel’s special friend. Sister Seraphina, the bookworm, she spends more time with scrolls than with living people.”

He winked at Odessa.

“I think our little Raziel is in love. Right, Raz?”

Raziel felt his face burning, not from shame, but from the sheer frustration of having to deal with this idiot while trying to save lives.

“Shut up, Lucian,” he muttered.

Luckily, Odessa ignored her cousin. Her Paladin instinct had activated.

“What happened to your friend, Raziel?” she asked.

“She disappeared weeks ago and no one has seen her since,” explained Raziel, choosing his words with the care of someone defusing a bomb. “I… found something. A message.”

He hesitated for a second.

He couldn’t tell them he was a regressor.

He couldn’t tell them he knew Seraphina was going to be sacrificed to summon a calamity.

So he opted for the half-truth, which is always more believable.

“I found a message on the library wall, written in blood. It was in a language I didn’t know, but the symbol… looked like the marks of necromancers.”

The word fell onto the table like a corpse.

The noise of the tavern seemed to fade for the three of them.

“What?” asked Odessa sharply, leaning forward. “Necromancers? Are you sure of what you are saying, novice?”

“I think so,” stuttered Raziel, faking fear. “It looked like the forbidden books… the ones they say were destroyed centuries ago.”

“That is impossible,” whispered Odessa, and for the first time, Raziel saw genuine fear in her eyes. “They couldn’t have entered St. Celeste… not without inside help.”

“Without whose help?” interrupted Lucian, oblivious to the gravity of the matter, with his mouth full of bread. “Why the long faces? Those are just old wives’ tales about dead heretics.”

Odessa ignored him, her gaze fixed on Raziel.

“Unless…” she breathed, and the implication was left hanging in the air.

’Unless it was someone from the inside,’ Raziel finished mentally, but let her reach the conclusion.

“All the Paladin Orders should be looking for this,” said Odessa, clenching her fists on the wood until her knuckles turned white. “There is no way a disappearance like this goes unnoticed.”

“No one is looking for her,” said Raziel, softly, driving the final nail into the coffin. “It is as if they wanted her disappearance to be a secret.”

“It is as if they were involved…”

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