Chapter 25: His Hidden Abyss

Lucian’s door slam echoed in the library, he left because he felt that with Raziel’s answers, he was being ignored.

Lara stood motionless, feeling the tension in the air turn into invisible blades.

Her back was rigid as an iron rod. There was no fear in Raziel, only a cold calculation.

“The session is over.” His voice lacked human inflection.

He closed his book with a dry thud and stood up. His face was an expressionless porcelain mask.

“Raziel, wait…”

“Rest, Lara.”

He didn’t look at her.

He passed by her and disappeared into the shadows of the shelves without making a sound.

Lara was left alone, with the lingering sensation that she had just seen a predator hide its claws.

Lucian’s mask had broken, revealing panic.

And Raziel had closed himself off like a fortress.

“Perseverance is a virtue, but obsession is a sin, dear.”

Lara jumped.

Sister Elena was standing next to her table, materialized out of nowhere with that unnatural silence of the Church veterans.

“Sister Elena…” Lara exhaled. “I didn’t hear you arrive.”

The instructor smiled. A warm grimace that didn’t reach her eyes.

“You try too hard. Dark circles don’t suit a lady.”

“The Novice Trials are soon. I can’t afford to fail.”

Elena sighed with cloying pity and sat next to her.

“You are a good girl, Lara. But sometimes, study isn’t enough.” She extended her wrinkled hand and covered Lara’s. “Faith isn’t in books. It is in total surrender…”

At the moment of contact, Lara’s mental barrier shattered.

It wasn’t a thought, it was an oily and dense sensation, she felt Elena’s pity, but it was twisted, like what one feels for a wounded animal before sacrificing it and underneath, a deep disappointment, as if she thought Lara was weak, useless for the “true cause”.

Lara pulled her hand back violently, as if she had touched red-hot iron.

“Lara?” Elena opened her eyes, feigning surprise.

“Nothing.” Lara jumped to her feet, gathering her things urgently. “It’s just exhaustion, I’ll go to sleep.”

“Of course, remember that my door is always open.”

Lara nodded stiffly and fled the library.

Her steps echoed in the empty hallway.

’It’s happening again.’

That damn resonance, feeling the filth hidden in souls, their lies.

If the Inquisition knew what she could do, the stake would be her destiny.

She turned the blind corner in panic.

BAM!

Lara’s books went flying.

“I’m sor…” The words died in her throat.

Raziel was already on the floor, picking up the tomes with mechanical efficiency.

Lara crouched to help him, her fingers brushed his over the leather cover.

And then, the world disappeared.

It was like connecting a high-voltage cable to her brain. The “boring novice” facade disintegrated.

Lara didn’t see images, she felt truths.

A tiredness older than the mountains.

The phantom pain of a thousand deaths.

A black abyss of blood and ash, and in the center, an iron will forged in hell.

Fear.

Rage.

Loneliness.

Underneath all that trauma, roaring like a contained furnace, a terrifying Power.

Something that didn’t belong to a fifteen-year-old boy.

It was like looking straight into the eyes of a furious god.

Raziel pulled his hand back sharply, breaking the connection.

Lara fell back sitting, gasping.

The air around her seemed to have dropped ten degrees.

Raziel looked at her and his blue eyes, for a split second, seemed to shine with an inhuman light.

“Are you okay?” His tone was neutral, but his posture screamed warning.

’What have you seen?’

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” Her voice sounded strangled. “I have to go.”

She got up and passed him almost running.

’That hadn’t been human, Raziel Celeste wasn’t what he appeared to be.’

—

The next night, the need for answers led her to the practice rooms.

A faint and erratic green glow came from one of the chambers.

Lara entered.

Raziel was in front of a withered plant, hand extended.

He was cold sweating.

A golden light flickered in his palm, tainted with dark streaks that looked wrong.

The plant twisted under his touch, suffering instead of healing.

“Shit…” he muttered, cutting the flow.

He turned and saw her.

He didn’t seem surprised.

“Lara.”

“That… isn’t how you heal,” she whispered, getting closer.

“You are forcing the energy. Healing is an act of surrender, not power.”

Raziel let out a short laugh, without humor.

“Perceptive as always. That is the problem, the trial requires ’Pure Mana Flow’ I… let’s say my power is contaminated.”

Lara observed him, remembering the abyss from the night before.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you are the opposite. You have a gift for sensing the flow of life.” He leaned forward.

“I want you to serve as my anchor. If you channel your energy, I can use it as a tuning fork to calibrate this crap.”

It was a utilitarian request.

Lara nodded and sat next to the pot.

If she helped, maybe she would understand what he was.

She closed her eyes and sought that pure warmth of faith, projecting it toward the plant.

She heard Raziel take a deep breath.

Suddenly, the atmospheric pressure in the room changed.

Raziel wasn’t connecting with Zhalyr, he was taking Lara’s energy and forcing it through his own will.

Lara opened her eyes, holding her breath.

A golden glow, dense and heavy, wrapped around Raziel’s hand.

The light flowed into the plant and the withered leaves regained their color violently.

It wasn’t gentle healing; it was aggression.

A perfect imitation of life forged by someone who had seen too much death.

When the last leaf straightened up, the pressure disappeared, leaving a buzzing in Lara’s ears.

“It worked,” Raziel murmured, looking at his hands with triumph.

“That wasn’t healing, Raziel,” Lara said with a trembling voice. “It was brute force.”

Raziel stood up. The novice mask was back in place.

“I did what was necessary to pass the test. Thanks, Lara.”

He walked toward the exit.

“Raziel!” Lara got up, frustration overcoming fear.

“Stop pretending! I felt what is inside you! I felt that darkness! Lucian is afraid of you for a reason. What is really happening?”

Raziel stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

He didn’t turn around and his silhouette outlined against the hallway light seemed lonely and lethal.

“You have a dangerous gift, Lara. If you value your life here, learn to control what you see and, above all, what you say.”

“I just want to help.”

“Some paths are walked alone.”

The door closed behind him leaving her alone in the dark.

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