Hazelrink had not shown himself to her since that day. It was foolish of him to interfere in someone else's affairs, but still, she could not deny that what he had said was right, and his words had been nothing but the truth. The fact annoyed her even more.
A knock pulled her from her thoughts.
"Miss."
She lifted her gaze toward the door just as her assistant, Zachara Athara Verandt, stepped inside. Her pointed ears peeked through long hair that faded from white to a soft grey at the tips. Her bright teal eyes seemed to sparkle faintly in the light.
"There are visitors causing a ruckus on the ground floor," Zachara reported.
Revlis rose from her seat, slipping off her coat and hanging it over the back of her chair. "Did you hear the reason for it?" she asked as she moved toward the door.
"They were protesting... against the idea of letting Iuhence Hazelrink take a position in the Sanctum. They called him a murderer."
Revlis's lips parted, then closed again. "Was Hazelrink present?"
Zachara nodded. "He was there when it began, Secretary. From what I heard, the commotion started the moment the couple laid eyes on him."
They stepped onto the floating platform, and with a flick of her fingers, Revlis cast a quickening spell. The platform glided faster, the wind rushing past her ears until they reached the ground floor.
From above, she could already see the chaos. A man stood with a staff pointed at Hazelrink, who stood perfectly still, he looked utterly unbothered.
Revlis didn't wait for the platform to lower. She vaulted over the edge, landing lightly on the marble tiles. Lightning crackled faintly at her fingertips as she walked forward.
"I ask you to lower your staff."
The woman beside the man let out a shaky sigh of relief. "Secretary! Please, tell us why you let this man work in the Sanctum! He killed our boy! You can't let this go unpunished!"
Revlis's gaze stayed locked on the man. "Lower the staff."
His grip only tightened. "He killed my son! Because of him, my boy is gone! He deserves the dungeons, so why is he walking free?"
Revlis reached out and grabbed the tip of his staff. Lightning danced between her fingers, and cracks splintered along the polished wood. "Hazelrink is under the Eldritch's authority. He is not to be harmed, touched, or threatened. Do this again, and I will not be so lenient."
"How dare you—!" the man roared, yanking the staff back and swinging it toward her. "You're letting a murderer roam free!"
"Personal feelings have no place in Sanctum law," she declared. "I am asking you to leave, in accordance with Article Twelve of the Sanctum's Peace Enforcement Mandate. Refuse, and I will exercise my right to have you removed by force. This will be recorded as your first formal violation, there will not be a second."
She raised a hand, and the Imperialis guards arrived just as quickly. The man's staff began to glow, and her eyes narrowed. The spell was casted. She shut her eyes against the blinding light, bracing for the blow.
But it never landed.
A hand closed firmly around her arm, pulling her aside. She opened her eyes to find Hazelrink standing between her and the man, one palm raised. The air in front of him bent inward, the spell's force swallowed by a concave ripple of wind and mana.
The Imperialis seized the man while Revlis's heart pounded hard enough. If that spell had struck her, it would have sent her own magic spiraling out of control. Lightning still hissed at her fingertips.
Solrien appeared, grim-faced. "Attempting to kill the Sanctum's Secretary is a grave crime. Put him in the dungeons until his trial—"
"No." Revlis cut him off. "I will speak with the Eldritch directly. Hazelrink blocked the spell. Let the man go."
Solrien snapped his head towards her. "Revlis!"
"He will be banned from the Sanctum, that alone, is a punishment. Zachara, note it."
"Yes, Secretary."
She turned and stepped onto the platform, but the weight shifted as someone else joined her. She looked over her shoulder. Hazelrink was there, watching her in silence as the platform carried them upward toward her office.
"You're not seriously letting this go, are you?" he asked. "I may have deflected the spell, but had I not, I doubt you'd still be standing."
"But you did."
He gave a short, humorless laugh. "You are infuriatingly hard to read, Velroque."
Back in her office, she walked to her desk. "I would have deflected the spell myself."
"Would you really?"
Before she could answer, he lifted a finger. A spell shot toward her, too quick to dodge, but she felt it rush past her cheek, the air crackling with static
"I suspected your mana flow was damaged," he said, his voice even. "Now I see it's worse than damaged."
Her eyes blazed. "Are you insane? If I'd been hit—"
"It was harmless. If I'd wanted to knock you out of that chair, I would have. And I wouldn't need much effort."
"Hazelrink," she growled.
"It's flickering," he continued. "Your mana flow. The current isn't steady."
She scoffed. "You can see mana flow?"
"Years of practice," he said with a shrug, lowering himself into the armchair. "Your core's output is erratic. What happened to it?"
"That's none of your concern. And stop attacking people."
"It's a mess," he said, almost incredulous. "It's frayed, like threads snapping one by one. I don't even know what caused it, no battle should have damaged it like this unless.."
Her brows furrowed at his words, and she didn't even like what the hell he was saying at this point. Each sentence out of his mouth felt like it was dragging her patience thinner and thinner.
"Before the war, even in the middle of it, you always guarded yourself. Not for your own sake.. Pfft, never for your own sake, but because you needed to be strong for Turan. Every blow you deflected, every ounce of mana you rationed, it was always with him in mind."
She grimaced uncomfortably. How the hell could he notice everything?
"But now? You're bleeding yourself dry, as if it doesn't matter whether you're standing tomorrow. You're not even pretending to protect yourself anymore."
Her fingers twitched at her side, itching to cut him off before he said something even more insufferable.
"Regardless," she said, folding her hands neatly before her. "Concerning the two couples from earlier, Etheldred Morvain and Tereza Lysane Morvain.."
He arched a brow. "What of them?"
Her lips parted as though she intended to answer at once, yet she hesitated, letting the words hang. "You should have left rather than remain to overhear the words they spouted."
Hazelrink's gaze settled on her. "The man would have attempted to restrain me with a spell, Velroque."
"You had several colleagues present, and Solrien was among them—"
"Would he?" Hazelrink interjected. He leaned back in the armchair, resting one hand lightly on the armrest.
She regarded him with a faint frown. "Would he what?"
"Intervene," he replied. "Stop the man?"
Her composure faltered for a moment, a subtle tightening at the corners of her mouth. She lowered her gaze, adjusting the fold of her sleeve as if to occupy her hands.
"He ought to," she said firmly. "It's his duty—"
"No one in the Sanctum is comfortable with me," Hazelrink replied. "Aside from a few acquaintances of mine, aside from you, aside from the Eldritch. The rest..." his gaze drifted to the window, as though seeing faces that were not there, "they pretend to be subtle and civilized, but only because the Eldritch have ordered it."
Her jaw tightened, the faint grind of her teeth betraying the thought she did not voice. Right. After the war, none of them knew if Hazelrink was an enemy or an ally. Suspicion had settled over him like a shadow that never lifted. Even she.
"They watch over me," he said quietly, and her eyes narrowed at him. "Not for what I have done, but for what I might still do."
Hazelrink leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "And when the day comes that they believe I might... they will act without hesitation. It is the nature of those who serve the Sanctum's law, they guard it as much from those within as from those without."
She folded her arms across her chest, more to still her own unease than to challenge him. "Then you should give them no reason to doubt you."
A faint, humorless smile touched his lips. "And yet, Velroque, sometimes all it takes is the memory of a battlefield to keep doubt alive."
She understood now the kind of position he was in. Isolated, and watched. Still, he remained consistent, performing his duties no matter what the public said behind closed doors.
She grimaced. She was one of those people, and the guilt gnawed at her. After all, she only ever looked at him as the same cruel boy he had once been.
Hazelrink gave a stiff nod at her silence and turned to leave. Perhaps, just perhaps... he was as lonely as she was.
She stood up abruptly, her chest tightening with some unexplainable impulse. Before she could stop herself, her hand shot to the doorknob. She flung it open.
"Hazelrink!" she called.
He paused mid-step, and turned towards her.
She froze, grimacing again. What in God's name was she doing? Why had she run after him? Her fingers tightened on the knob. Her lips parted, words spilling out before pride could stop them.
"You're... not alone."
He simply stared at her. Then, as though it amused him greatly, a sadistic smile tugged at his lips.
"Are you quite sure you mean that?" His voice dripped with mockery. "Must've taken all the courage in your little body to say that to me—"
Her face immediately flattened into a deadpan glare. "Never mind. I take it back."
He chuckled, low and unhurried. "Nah-uh. Too late. You said it. Can't unsay it now."
"Sod off!" she snapped, her cheeks heating despite herself.
"I appreciate the sentiment, truly." He chuckled, "but knowing you, I half-suspect it's a threat disguised as kindness."
"Douchebag!" she shot back, slamming the door behind her.
She pressed her palms to her temples and massaged her scalp, trying to steady the foolish flutter in her chest. It was absurd! Utterly ridiculous!
But it felt oddly right. She had always been certain he would ruin her life; somehow, instead, he was doing quite the opposite.
"Are you certain?"
Revlis blinked twice, turning her head towards Perciana. She was helping in the lab, sleeves rolled and hair tucked away in a bun. The place reeked faintly of herbs and burnt resin, the air heavy with the weight of sleepless nights.
Unfortunately, they were short of an apothecary in the Creaturekind Preservation Arms Division, and Revlis had once prepared many medicines by hand.
"I am certain it has something to do with the drugs in the black market," Perciana retorted back. "That case has been handled by the Imperialis, but still, it's strange how it reached the creatures of the magical realm."
Revlis exhaled, her brows furrowing as she turned the thought over. Perhaps some reckless mages or warlocks had tampered with mortal drugs, feeding them to creatures for amusement or profit.
Either way, the numbers of drugged magical creatures were rising by the day.
"I'll take this case to the Investigative Subdivision," she murmured at last. "Until then, search for something that can dull their pain. Anything, until I return."
Perciana nodded. "Very well."
Without another word, Revlis left the lab. Her boots clicked against the polished floor as she made her way straight to the Insurgent Division. Inside, she spotted Kaelis Fenn, papers in hand, already barking orders at a few junior officers.
"Lieutenant!" she called.
Kaelis turned, a little surprised to see her in such a rush. "Secretary? What brought you here so quickly?"
"Is anyone from the Investigative Subdivision available?" she asked, breath short. "I've a case that needs to be looked into."
"Sure is," Kaelis replied. He gestured for her to follow.
And there he was. The one person she had not expected. The one she had hoped not to see.
Hazelrink again. Seriously?
She sighed in exasperation, as though fate itself had a cruel sense of humour. Why did it always have to be him?
They fell into step, walking together down the long corridor towards the Creaturekind Preservation Arms Division.
"I thought this case was closed already," Hazelrink said flatly, his boots striking the stone with deliberate rhythm. "Wasn't Turan the one laid out for this task?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Revlis replied, tone clipped. "But it also involves a friend of yours. Chrysanth. He was working on this case with Solrien."
Hazelrink gave a short, derisive huff. "Lemaire?" He rolled his eyes.
"Yes," she answered. "When they laid out the reports, they claimed it would hardly affect the creatures, that vulgus drugs are weak, hardly a threat to magical cores. But in this case, the beast arrived at our doors already fighting for its life."
Hazelrink narrowed his eyes. "Then either the report was sloppily done or someone tampered with the drugs themselves. Vulgus filth mixing their powder with something else, perhaps."
Revlis shook her head. "It doesn't feel that simple. These creatures have stronger resistance than mortals. For them to collapse so violently, the substance must have been altered deliberately or.. they added something.."
He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Magical alchemy, maybe? Who in their right mind would attempt such a thing?"
"Smugglers?" she suggested. "Or worse, scholars testing the limits of the body. You know well enough that some of the mages and warlocks are reckless in the name of progress."
Hazelrink's mouth curved into something between a sneer and a scoff.
By the time they arrived at the Division, they were greeted by Fedele Gomez. Revlis blinked twice. As far as she knew, he belonged to the Sanare Division. Why was he here?
"Mister Gomez."
"Ah, Iuhence," Fedele said warmly. "Good to see you again. Are you also here for the creature case?"
Hazelrink gave her a quick glance, then his gaze went straight to the man. "Unfortunately. The Secretary asked for my assistance."
"Hello to you, Secretary Velroque."
"Hello, sir." She returned a polite smile. "May I ask, did the Division Head of CPA summon you?"
"Yes. She said I should aid with recovery, at least until you and Perciana find a proper cure."
Right. Revlis nodded slightly.
When they stepped further inside, chaos immediately surrounded them. Dozens of veterinarians were scattered about, each working frantically within their assigned creatures.
A beast in the nearest cage, a Cineraria Wraith-hound, had already half-dissolved into smoke. Its cloudy form tried to seep through the glowing wards, only for the barrier to flare and force the creature back into shape.
Not far from it, a Trillium Charger, a sleek horse-like beast with three horns sprouting from its forehead, slammed its body against the iron bars. Sparks flew as it struck, but the cage held. Its eyes glowed faintly red, it looked feverish with whatever poison ran through its veins.
In another chamber, a Heliotrope Serpent, scales glimmering lavender and gold, writhed endlessly, clawing at its own tail as though driven mad.
When they arrived at the lab, they watched from another chamber. Two rooms, the other one where a creature that looks like a deer strolling around the chamber. And the other, a magical creature on the floor, a lion trying to claw on its own body.
The Division Head, Saraphiel Launa, stood there. She adjusted her rectangular glasses, her dark green hair undone, and her grey eyes fixed on the chambers in front of them.
"Normal vulgus drugs don't work on these creatures. But in this case, we tried the blood fluid of the Heliotrope Serpent... then this happened."
Revlis grimaced. Her eyes darted to the thrashing beast.
"So it has many symptoms..." she whispered, almost to herself. "I think... the drug... chooses how it could hurt the creatures."
Everyone stilled. Healers and assistants turned to her, their murmurs silenced.
Hazelrink raised a brow. "Chooses? A drug doesn't have will, Velroque."
Revlis shook her head. "Not will. A reaction. When you said you used the Heliotrope's blood fluid, I thought maybe the same case happens to the creatures you inject it with. The Heliotrope clawed at its tail until it nearly destroyed itself... and look at that creature now. It's doing the exact same thing, attacking its own weakest point."
Saraphiel narrowed her eyes, processing. "So you're saying..."
"The drug doesn't kill directly," Revlis continued, "it finds the weakness in each creature. For the serpent, it was its tail, its own power source. For this one..." she gestured to the beast slamming its head against the barrier, "...its stomach. It's being driven to madness. The substance adapts, and it exploits what is most vulnerable."
The veterinarians exchanged looks, some pale-faced, others scribbling notes.
Hazelrink crossed his arms. "That means no single cure will work. Each case will be different."
"No..." Revlis muttered. "I know a cure that can help these creatures. But first... I need the veterinarians to collect fluid samples from each of them. Er.. blood, saliva, even fragments of their mana essence if possible."
Saraphiel immediately nodded. "I'll get to it. I'll have the team start at once." She turned sharply, issuing orders to the nearest healers.
Revlis then faced Hazelrink. "I need you to come with me."
He arched his brow. "Where?"
"You'll see when we get there." Her tone left no room for argument, and without another word she was already moving toward the exit.
Hazelrink followed, irritation flickering across his face. "Velroque, I don't enjoy being dragged around blindly. You could at least give me a hint."
She glanced at him briefly as they walked through the bustling corridors of the Division. "If I'm right, the cure isn't here. It's somewhere old, an old place... older than either of us."