Chapter 87: The Inquisitor's Mark

*Date: 33,480 Second Quarter - Chalice Theocracy*

The rain had not stopped since dawn.

Gray light filtered through stained glass windows, painting the academy's corridors in rippling streaks of gold and blood. The colors shifted as clouds moved outside, creating patterns that felt almost alive.

Aris walked in silence, hood drawn low. The faint clink of potion vials marked his steps. Fox padded beside him, unusually quiet.

"You feel that?" the fox muttered finally.

Aris frowned. "What?"

"The air. It's watching."

Aris didn't answer, but he'd felt it too. The way conversations died when he entered rooms. The faint hum of tracking wards hanging above every hallway. Someone had tightened security. Someone important.

At the far end of the corridor, two Templars stood guard in front of the central atrium, a place students rarely saw unescorted. Their armor gleamed despite the dim light.

Aris slowed, pretending to tie his boot. He glanced upward. The academy's great seal was now glowing faintly. An active surveillance ward pulsed with rhythmic light.

Fox whispered, "It's the Inquisitor's mark. They're watching the students now. Especially ones who..."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Aris finished grimly, though his stomach twisted.

Fox snorted. "It could be about Lyra. That old man's raid to save the shadowborn made our life hell."

Aris adjusted his bag. "Keep quiet. We can't afford suspicion."

He spent the day pretending to study, copying meaningless notes during lectures. But every glance, every passing whisper carried that same tension. Even Rathvoss seemed uneasy. His usual bark was subdued to gritted commands.

When the final bell rang, Aris didn't go to the dorms. He descended.

The stairs spiraled down into darkness. Aris slipped past the empty laundry rooms, down through a narrow archway where the stone turned damp and cold.

The alchemy lab greeted him with silence. His vials from last night glowed faintly in the dark, like bottled stars arranged on shelves.

"Back to work," he murmured. "Before someone decides to confiscate my life's work."

He unpacked new ingredients. Bloodrose petals, crystal water, marrowroot. His hands moved with almost mechanical precision. But even through his focus, he couldn't shake the idea of Lyra being taken.

Aris stared at his reflection in the cauldron's rippling surface. His face looked... different. Sharper. Paler. The shadows under his eyes had deepened.

Fox's voice drifted from the shadows. "You're burning the candle from both ends, Aris."

Aris didn't respond. He poured the first reagent, watching it swirl.

Then the door clicked.

A metallic sound. Measured, deliberate. Not a student. Not a janitor.

Fox's fur bristled. "We're not alone."

A figure stepped into the light.

Heavy armor. Red and gold sash. The emblem of the Chalice embossed prominently on the chest plate.

The Crusader. Kurgodan.

Aris froze. The air thickened instantly. The Crusader's presence felt like gravity itself pressing down. Like standing before judgment.

Kurgodan smiled faintly, but his eyes were sharp as blades. "Working late, I see."

Aris bowed slightly, mind racing. "I... wanted to practice my brewing techniques, sir."

"Brewing." The Crusader walked closer, inspecting the cauldrons with slow deliberation. His boots left heavy prints in the dust. "Odd, isn't it? A first-year student experimenting with tier two reagents without supervision."

"How did you... I earned permission. Professor Maezana signed my request."

Kurgodan tilted his head, the movement predatory. "Maezana Silvermeadow has been missing for three days. We are interrogating her."

Aris's blood ran cold. The words hit like physical blows.

Fox muttered, "Oh, we're so dead."

Kurgodan circled the table, eyes lingering on the glowing vials. Each step deliberate. "I heard rumors, you know. About a boy who mixed essences to create unsanctioned potions. Who might... just might... have touched something the High Priestess forbade."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Aris lied, keeping his voice steady through force of will.

"Of course you don't." The Crusader leaned closer. His voice dropped low, intimate and threatening. "You've been seen with the engineer. The shapeshifter. Right?"

He continued without waiting for response. "A shapeshifter looking like a halfling entered our country. Ever since, things have been going missing here and there. And lastly, an attack on leaders of our world."

Aris clenched his fists, nails digging into palms. "Who do you suspect?"

"Many, for now." Kurgodan placed his hand on the table, the gesture casual but weighted with threat.

"Including our teacher Maezana and Scribe Lyra?" Aris asked, then gulped.

"Maybe." The word hung in the air like a blade.

"I have no knowledge of any of them."

Kurgodan's smile never reached his eyes. "If that's true, then you have nothing to fear." He turned toward the exit, pausing at the threshold. Moonlight from the stairs outlined his armored form. "One more thing, Student Aris. If you ever find forbidden formulas, report them to your elders. Don't play solo."

"Don't play solo. Does he know?" Aris thought, panic rising.

"Forbidden stuff," Kurgodan added, voice almost pleasant, "the High Priestess actually likes, if it's useful."

Then he left.

The sound of his footsteps echoed long after he was gone. Each step a countdown.

Aris exhaled shakily. "He knows."

Fox hopped onto the table. "And he's baiting you to slip."

Aris wiped sweat from his forehead. "If they trace everything to Lyra, I'm done."

"Should we run?"

"Run where?" Aris asked, voice hollow.

That night, he couldn't sleep. Every shadow looked like Kurgodan's armor. Every whisper sounded like the High Priestess's voice. When dawn came, he found himself walking toward the library anyway.

He needed to see Lyra. Needed to know she was okay.

But when he arrived, the doors were sealed. Two Inquisitor Guards stood watch, spears crossed in an X. Their faces were hidden behind ceremonial masks.

"Library closed by decree of the High Priestess for a time," one barked. "Unauthorized entry is treason."

Aris stared at the sigil burned onto the doors. A flaming eye encircled by chains.

The Eye of the Theocracy.

Fox murmured, "That's new."

Aris forced a calm smile, though his heart hammered. "Right. I'll come back later."

They turned away. But his pulse thundered in his ears.

She's gone. They got to her first.

Back in his lab, Aris lit a small candle and stared at the flame. His mind replayed the Crusader's words, the ward sigil, the missing teacher. All the pieces forming a picture he didn't want to see.

He reached out, trembling slightly. "So that's how it is. If they're surrounding us, then I'll forge my own weapon. Myself."

Fox sighed. "Here we go again."

Aris smiled faintly, tired and dangerous. "No. Not again. This time I'll make it right."

With Lyra vanished, Aris gave himself completely to solidarity with his potions and his duels. He asked to spar with Orric and Gumo the bearkin from time to time, testing his new techniques. His new potions. He was getting better, almost reaching their speed. But their strength was still unmatched.

"I may not reach you now," Aris said to himself after a particularly brutal sparring session. "But when I use my stone, I can surpass you."

By the end of the month, school had finished fifty matches total. Aris had twenty-two wins, nine draws, and nineteen losses. He'd climbed up to rank twenty-nine. Not spectacular. But survival.

Sliver and Kaelan's only point loss was against each other. One draw. Other than that, they swept opponents with forty-nine wins each. There were others using tier three spells. But Kaelan's raw power and Sliver's speed and cunning moves put everyone to dust.

The rankings board showed their names at the very top, untouchable.

And somewhere in the shadows of the academy, wheels were turning. Plans were being made. And Aris, hunched over his cauldrons with burned fingertips and wild eyes, had no idea how close the danger really was.