Confession Root

Chapter 4

Part 4

The flame-echo faded but lingered in their bones. At the rim of the village, they halted where ash met new growth—tiny green shoots braving charred soil.

Velrona exhaled and held her hand over Raea's strands tied at Erlin's belt—the gift of memory.

She turned to Erlin.

"Go back to the shrine. Look under the altar."

He raised an eyebrow.

"They won't mind," she said. "They already kneel in silence of my name."

You sure? he asked.

Trust me.

Midday, they slipped back into the underground chamber beneath the shrine. The foragers were gone, replaced by restless spirits and drifting chords of incense. They ascended to the altar platform—the one that had held the Memory Well until they uncovered Kassien's purpose.

Velrona placed her palm on the cracked stone altar and whispered, "Open."

Erlin glanced back nervously. "You want to summon them again?"

No. She tapped the altar's front; the stone slid.

Beneath lay a small cavity—dusty, neglected.

Velrona reached in and drew out a tattered journal, bound in leather scorched along the spine. No sigils, no markings. Just one name: Kassien Volt.

She opened it.

📓 Journal Excerpt (First Breaths)

"What follows is not record, but confession. I betrayed her doctrine. The Death-Writ was never meant as salvation—it broke her hope. But I crafted the myth anyway. For power, for unity. My daughters follow a lie."

Velrona read aloud, voice a low echo.

Erlin's breath hitched.

He lied about me to build followers?

To build followers—and to survive.

Velrona turned pages. Each cropped entry more reprehensible.

"They would not lead without purpose. I shaped their grief into fire, obscured her doubt, sanitized her fear. She trusted me, but ghosts trust well."

Kassien's words trembled as he wove his betrayal into spiritual architecture. The final entry—written the night before her death—was scrawled in spidery ink:

"Tonight I offer the Death-Writ in her name. And in doing so, I make myself eternal."

Velrona's hand shook.

She closed the journal and sat on the altar's edge.

Now you see what became of the woman who trusted you. Erlin's voice lay raw beneath her ribs.

I made her name a weapon. Made her death a doctrine.

She touched the journal reverently.

"How far it fell."

What now? Erlin asked softly.

We expose it.

They returned to the plaza, where early evening had enwreathed broken statues. Velrona stood before the foragers.

"I have their master's words," she said. She laid the journal at their feet.

They approached, eyes wide.

One touched the cover. Velrona spoke softly:

"Kassien lied. He spun your faith from betrayal, not belief. He built your flame from blood and grief—not memory."

The foragers parted, knelt.

One whispered, "You speak … truth."

Velrona nodded.

System alert: Doctrine destabilized. Faith echo recalibrated.

The tallest forager rose.

"We will burn the lies." She pulled the journal into the ruin's embers.

"Not burn," Velrona corrected. "Preserve."

What? Erlin hissed.

Truth must stand—hidden, but unforgotten.

She stepped forward.

"Let this be a reminder: what makes a cult isn't fire—it's the falseness buried in its pulpit."

The foragers exchanged a tense glance.

Then one spoke: "We will remember. We will teach it."

Velrona inclined her head.

"Then your next challenge is not to build a myth. It's to prevent one."

She looked to Erlin.

"Let us go."

They ascended to the outside.

Out where mists rose from charred earth, Velrona and Erlin paused.

Reflections

Velrona unwrapped the journal and traced Kassien's name in her mind.

He had killed more than her body: he killed her meaning.

A martyr made from a mother, Erlin whispered.

Yes.

She held the journal to her chest.

"We keep this," she said. "Until the end."

They turned eastward again.

The path ahead was steep, lined by black pillars pointing skyward like silent witnesses. In the distance, the first flicker of dusk-light touched ruined spires—a sign they neared Ythara's domain.

Velrona paused and set the journal in a saddlebag.

What now?

We carry memory forward. Our next mountain hides her sanctuary.

Erlin nodded.

And Raea?

Healing.

They walked away from the shrine of lies.