Chapter 8: In the Wake of Shadows

Dawn broke over Luxaria's capital with a weary kind of light, as though even the sun was reluctant to shine on the ruined stretches of the Knights' garrison. Rain continued in a cold drizzle, highlighting the aftermath of the previous night's fierce battle. The courtyard, once an orderly training field, lay littered with broken stone and scorched ground. Knights moved in tense patrols, eyes scanning for any sign of a second attack.

Reziel stood near one of the courtyard's collapsed walls, the faint drizzle soaking his already tattered coat. He'd slept only a couple of hours on a makeshift cot in the main hall. His muscles ached, and his side still throbbed despite the cleric's healing. Yet some restless energy within him had refused to let him stay in bed.

Or is it the System keeping me on edge? Reziel wondered grimly, recalling how he'd forcibly evolved Dark Pulse into Dark Rupture during last night's desperation. Even now, an undercurrent of power hummed in his veins, like a caged predator awaiting the next conflict.

A commotion from within the courtyard gates caught his attention. Aria Highwind was greeting a small group of late-arriving knights, clad in the same white-and-gold tabards but bearing the insignia of a higher order. Standing beside Aria was Sir Galland, who gestured for the group to head inside.

Reziel approached, curiosity piqued. His footsteps crunched over broken rubble. Aria noticed him and turned, her expression still fatigued but resolute. "You're up early," she said quietly.

He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep." His gaze drifted to the newly arrived knights. "Reinforcements?"

Aria nodded. "Yes. Word of the attack spread quickly. The capitol's central bastion sent a small detachment to secure the garrison and help with prisoner interrogation."

Reziel couldn't help the twinge of anxiety that jolted through him at the word "interrogation." He cleared his throat. "How many cultists did you manage to capture?"

"Only three survived." Her eyes flickered with cold anger. "The rest fought to the death or retreated with their wounded. Sir Galland is about to question them—he's hoping they can lead us to the cult's main hideouts. Their infiltration last night was disturbingly well-coordinated."

Reziel remembered the cult's silent, methodical approach—right up until they'd shattered walls and summoned destructive spells. He also recalled the fanatic gleam in the captured cultist's eyes as they'd dragged him away. They won't give up easily.

He asked, voice hushed, "Do you think they'll talk?"

Aria's expression was grim. "We'll see. Fanatics can be difficult to break, but the Knights have ways of uncovering truths without resorting to… dark methods." She gestured toward the half-crumbled corridor that led deeper into the garrison. "Come on. Sir Galland wanted you present at the debriefing—assuming you're up for it."

Reziel hesitated, a knot of unease coiling in his stomach. "I guess I should. If these cultists know more about the 'forbidden power' or how to remove it…" He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air. Maybe I can finally get answers about this System.

Aria placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Stay on guard in there. Their words might be laced with half-truths or illusions. But if you pick up anything that resonates with your… situation, don't hold back."

He nodded, swallowing hard. Together, they stepped through the battered doorway and into the garrison's interior.

Sir Galland had converted a smaller training hall into a makeshift command center. Tables piled with scrolls and maps cluttered one side, while knights and squires bustled about, reviewing sketches of cultist symbols and scrawled eyewitness accounts of the siege. The smell of wax and stale coffee mingled with the tang of burned wood.

Near the back, an enclosed area with tall iron bars—normally used to hold captured criminals—had been turned into an impromptu interrogation space. Three cultists sat on the stone floor within, wrists bound behind them. Their hooded cloaks and masks had been removed, revealing gaunt faces and dark, unnerving eyes.

As Reziel approached with Aria, he recognized one: the man who'd glared at him the night before, as though Reziel were an artifact to be reclaimed. That chilling stare now shifted between Reziel and the knights, defiance burning in every line of his expression.

Sir Galland stood at a sturdy table, flanked by two newly arrived knights wearing polished armor and stern expressions. The Knight-Captain looked up, acknowledging Reziel with a curt nod. "You're here. Good. We're about to begin."

One of the newly arrived knights—Knight-Commander Farren, as Aria whispered—stepped forward, arms folded. He fixed the three cultists with a cold, calculating gaze. "Identify yourselves and your standing within the Circle of Twilight."

The captives exchanged silent glances. Finally, the older cultist in the center spoke, voice resonant despite his bonds. "We have no names to give unbelievers. We are children of the Twilight, chosen to usher in the new era." His tone dripped with fanatic conviction.

Sir Galland's jaw tightened. "Enough rhetoric. You've broken Luxarian law, endangered lives, and attacked the Crown's knights. Speak plainly."

The cultist sneered. "Your 'law' means nothing. The Circle's cause is ordained by higher powers."

A restless shift moved through the gathered knights. Aria's hand tightened on her spear; Reziel felt tension coil in his own chest. What if they refuse to say anything useful?

Galland pressed on. "We know you're searching for Reziel. Why? What do you want from him—or the 'forbidden power' he carries?"

All three cultists turned their stares to Reziel, who stood just behind Aria. A shiver prickled the back of his neck. The same central cultist answered, eyes gleaming with something akin to devotion… or obsession. "He carries the System that was sealed away by the old gods, meant to be harnessed by the worthy. Our ritual nearly claimed it. But a twist of fate bound it to this whelp instead."

Reziel bristled at the insult, but more than that, his mind whirled at the revelation. The System was sealed away by the old gods…? The cultists had tried to claim it. No wonder they kept calling him a "prize."

Knight-Commander Farren interjected, voice measured. "You speak as if this System is some holy artifact."

A harsh laugh burst from another cultist. "Holy? No. But it is the key to a new dawn of power, one that transcends mortal shackles." He shot Reziel an almost pitying look. "It's wasted on a frightened, unwilling host."

Reziel's stomach churned. The cult's perspective reminded him how precarious his grip on the System truly was. They see me as a caretaker of a power they believe only they deserve… or can handle.

Sir Galland leveled a steely gaze at the captives. "Then your entire Circle aims to reclaim the System from Reziel. And what? Use it to topple the kingdom?"

"Not just the kingdom," the older cultist murmured, voice low with dark conviction. "We will reshape Edarion's fate."

Silence stretched, broken only by the dripping of rainwater through cracks in the ceiling. At last, Sir Galland pressed further, "Where is your main headquarters? Who commands you? Answer, or the Crown's justice will be swift."

The cultists remained stoic. Then the same older man smiled—a thin, unsettling curve of the lips. "Kill us, and we become martyrs. Spare us, and we reveal nothing. Either way, you cannot stop what has already begun."

Aria exhaled, shoulders tensing in frustration. The knights exchanged grim looks. They knew the cultists were trained for such standoffs. Without more powerful truth-spells or specialized questioning, they might glean little.

Reziel, heart pounding, stepped past Aria. His approach startled the knights, but they allowed him forward. The cultists stared at him, curiosity mingling with scorn.

"Listen," he began, voice quieter than he intended. "You keep saying you want the System. But what's your end goal? If you get it back, you'll just feed it more conflict, more blood. That power… it changes you."

Their leader's lip curled. "Indeed, it changes the weak. But in the Circle's hands, it will elevate us beyond mortal limitations."

"That's not an answer," Reziel persisted. "You already tried to forcibly fuse it to one of your own—and it failed. Isn't that what happened during your ritual? You miscalculated, and it latched onto me."

A flicker of rage marred the cultist's features. "We were… interrupted. Had the ceremony completed, the rightful heir would bear the Forbidden System even now."

Reziel's pulse hammered. "Then you know something about removing it. Or transferring it."

For a heartbeat, no one spoke. The cultist's eyes glinted. "There are ways. Painful, costly ways." He leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush that all in the room could still hear. "If you yearn for freedom, boy, join us. Perhaps we can spare you once the System is extracted."

Aria's grip tightened on her spear; the knights stirred indignantly. The cultist's words hung in the cold air, draped in half-truths and carefully barbed offers.

Reziel closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing down a surge of conflicting emotions. Freedom—at what cost? He already suspected that joining the Circle would only chain him to a fate far darker than anything the Knights might impose. But the temptation of removing the System… it pricked at his thoughts more than he cared to admit.

He opened his eyes, forcing a scoff. "I'd rather keep it than hand it over to murderers who worship twisted power."

The cultist's expression fell into a sneer again. "Then remain a pawn. When the Circle of Twilight comes for you—and we will—pray your watchers don't run out of valor first."

Sir Galland stepped in, gesturing firmly. "Enough. Take them to separate cells. We'll continue this interrogation properly." The knights at his side moved in, binding the prisoners more securely and dragging them from the briefing area. Their defiant stares never left Reziel until they vanished around the corridor bend.

Aria let out a shaky breath, then turned to Reziel. "You heard them. They believe the System belongs to them… and they're not going to stop."

Reziel nodded, tension coiled in his chest. "At least now we know they've tried this ritual before. That means they have knowledge—maybe tomes, scrolls, or other resources explaining how to manipulate or remove it."

Sir Galland overheard, stepping toward them. "We'll press them for details. Unfortunately, fanatics often withstand normal questioning methods." His gaze shifted to Reziel. "But you'll be key to deciphering anything we learn about the System. You're the only living 'host' we know of."

A pang of irony twisted Reziel's lips into a wry smile. Not long ago, these knights saw me as a threat to eradicate. Now they need me as a consultant. "I'll help," he said quietly. "For my own sake and yours."

Galland nodded, satisfaction flickering in his stern features. "Good. In the meantime, rest. You'll need to be ready if we find a lead on the cult's hideout. We won't succeed without your insight into the System's workings."

Reziel swallowed, remembering how draining even brief use of Dark Rupture had been. "Right," he murmured. "I… I'll do my best."

The Knight-Captain gave him a curt, respectful dip of the head, then excused himself to confer with Knight-Commander Farren and other officers.

Aria lingered at Reziel's side. She studied him, concern lining her face. "Are you alright?"

He met her gaze, forced a short laugh. "Let's see: I'm tethered to a forbidden power, targeted by a murderous cult, and enlisted by knights who aren't sure if they trust me. Alright might be a stretch."

She tilted her head, a faint sympathy in her eyes. "We'll figure something out. One step at a time."

Reziel nodded, the swirl of tension in his chest easing—if only slightly. He found some small comfort in Aria's presence, though he dared not rely on it too much. The dangers ahead still loomed large.

Soon, the knights dispersed to carry out their duties. Aria departed to oversee security updates around the garrison, leaving Reziel to wander the command center. The hum of strategizing knights, the scent of new parchment with hastily drawn maps, and the muffled moans of the wounded filled the air.

He eventually found an alcove near a shattered window, where water trickled in from the rain-soaked courtyard. Through the jagged opening, he could see a patch of dull sky. It reminded him how small he was in the grand tapestry of conflicts roiling across Edarion.

The Circle of Twilight won't stop until they have me—or until they're destroyed.

But do I really want to keep the System forever? Is there truly a way to remove it without handing myself over to them?

A swirl of text flickered at the edge of his vision:

System Notice

New Potential Quest: Uncover the Ritual of Severance

Objective: Obtain knowledge regarding the System's removal or transference.

Reward: Unknown. Further System expansions or transformations possible.

Reziel's heart hammered. The System itself acknowledged the concept of severance. Part of him felt an odd pang at the idea of discarding the same power that had saved him repeatedly. Yet the longer I carry it, the more risk I bring—to myself, and to everyone around me.

He closed his eyes. A single, steady breath. Then he let the System's notice fade away, focusing on the present. If removing the System was indeed possible, he'd need the Knights' support to uncover the cult's secrets. Right now, forging onward with them—and learning how to wield his unwanted power—was his only viable path.

A distant crash of thunder rolled across the city, echoing through the garrison's broken halls. Reziel gazed out at the dreary sky, silent determination welling in his chest. I won't let the Circle decide my fate, he vowed to himself. And I won't let this power devour me either.

With that quiet resolve, he pushed off from the wall and rejoined the knights bustling around the command center. The next battle might be days or mere hours away—but this time, Reziel intended to face it on his own terms.