Hazelrink deadpanned at her as they stopped in front of the plaza. A towering church stood ahead of them, its spires cutting into the sky.
"Are you trying to make me religious?" he asked flatly.
She scoffed, crossing her arms. "No? I doubt you even believe in God anyway."
He raised a brow, lips curling into a half-scoff. "I wonder... how can you believe in Vulgus gods?"
"Only God," she corrected. "It's only one God I believe in."
They started walking again, while he trailed alongside her with a sigh.
"What was his name again? Jesus Christ?"
Revlis closed her eyes briefly, exasperated. "Jesus Christ is the Son of God. God is God."
Hazelrink stared at her as though she'd just explained something utterly nonsensical. "What's the difference? Sounds like divine wordplay to me. Honestly, I think the Greek gods had more personality. At least they were upfront about being selfish."
She turned to him with a flat stare, unimpressed.
"What? Don't look at me like that," he said, smirking. "I read The Odyssey. At least Zeus didn't pretend to be perfect."
"I read it too. Greeks have their own religion, if you think so then perhaps you're polytheistic." she shot back. "As you always said, I'm a Vulgus. And as a Vulgus-born, I believe in God because that's how I was raised. It's faith. You don't have to get it."
"I thought mortals had plenty of religions," he pressed, eyes glinting with mock curiosity. "So which flavour are you?"
She gave him a quick glance. "Roman Catholic."
He whistled under his breath. "So many religions, yet you cling to one. You say it's one God, but everyone claims theirs is the same one. Do you not find that a bit... contradictory?"
Revlis let out a heavy sigh, clearly running out of patience.
"Humanity never runs out of ways to dress up its gods. One wears robes, one rides an elephant, one hurls thunderbolts. Honestly, I think mortals make better storytellers than believers." He chuckled.
She exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. "Hazelrink—"
He leaned closer. "Tell me then. Why yours? Out of all the gods, why cling to the one God you can't see, can't touch, and can't prove?"
Her jaw tightened. "Because faith is about trust, not proof."
He smirked at her stubbornness. "Ah. Blind trust. How very Vulgus of you."
She sighed heavily and dragged him to a bench near the back, sitting as the pastor continued from the pulpit. Hazelrink shot her a sideways look as he settled beside her.
"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life," the pastor preached. "And we, brothers and sisters, are called to reflect that love in how we live. To care for the weak, and to stand for mercy. To step beyond ourselves for the sake of another."
The congregation murmured agreement. The pastor went on, speaking of forgiveness and of hope for the broken.
Of how one life given can heal a thousand hurts in ways.
Revlis let out a small, almost rueful smile. The words reached her in the way sermons sometimes do.
Hazelrink snorted under his breath. "Why would a father sacrifice his own son for the world?" he said, low enough that only she could hear. "How ridiculous."
She glanced at him, irritation flickering across her face. "Not ridiculous. It's meant as the ultimate example of love," she whispered back. "It asks us to do better."
"It sounds like a theatrical way to teach people not to be dicks to one another."
She shot him a look, displeased but unable to deny the small relief that softened her chest. "Theology aside, it's meant to remind us of protecting what matters. Now, shut up."
He gave a rueful half-smile.
After the service ended and people were still settling down, Revlis slid off the bench and knelt on the floor, resting her hands against the back of the pew in front of her. She bowed her head and laced her fingers together in prayer.
Hazelrink leaned back, watching her. His brow lifted as though he found it amusing, but after a moment he slowly followed, lowering himself to his knees beside her. He copied her posture exactly.
Her eyes widened. "What are you doing? Don't do something you don't even mean," she hissed under her breath.
He tilted his head, a smile drew itself on his lips. "Why do you do this then? Kneeling like this?"
Revlis hesitated, but answered anyway, "It's how we pray. How we humble ourselves before God. We lay our sins here... and our prayers."
Hazelrink's gaze drifted toward the altar. "And you think he listens? Even if a thousand others are babbling their prayers at the same time?"
Her lips parted, and she nodded firmly. "Yes. He will. He listens to each one."
He studied her face for a moment, then he clasped his hands together the way she had. He closed his eyes, his guarded features softening almost immediately.
Revlis stared at him, hardly believing it. Hazelrink. Iuhence Hazelrink was praying.
Her chest tightened. She lowered her head again quickly, hiding the flicker of emotion in her expression. If this fragile moment was real, she didn't want to break it.
And so she prayed. Let this continue. Let him soften. Let him find something better in himself.
After they finished praying, Revlis rose to her feet and led Hazelrink toward the altar. Her smile softened as she approached the pastor. She reached for his hand and gently pressed it to her forehead in greeting.
"Hazelrink, this is Father Rohwan Von Argentaire," she said warmly.
The pastor placed a kind hand on her shoulder, his grey eyes softening. "It's been a while, Revlis."
"Father," she replied with a respectful nod.
Hazelrink straightened and extended his hand. "Iuhence Hazelrink. A pleasure to meet you, sir."
The two men shook hands firmly.
Father Rohwan studied him for a moment, then glanced at Revlis with a knowing smile. "Is he one of your magical friends?"
Revlis' eyes lit up, the corners of her mouth curling into a smile. "You could tell?"
"Quite," the pastor said with a chuckle. "Considering that you've come all the way here, I imagine you need something from the church, yes?"
Her expression softened, almost a little guilty. "Yes."
"Then feel free," he said gently. "It's always a blessing to have you here, Revlis."
They walked together down the narrow corridors of the church, their footsteps echoing softly. Revlis grimaced as though the air felt heavier the deeper they went, while Hazelrink whistled an aimless tune, hands tucked behind his back.
"Don't tell me you dragged Kcalb into this religious nonsense?" Hazelrink raised a brow, smirking.
She avoided his gaze and quickened her pace. "Obviously, he learned to respect it. Unlike you."
He shrugged, unbothered. "Whatever. But really, why in the church?"
She blinked twice before answering. "I came here during the war. When Solrien was—" she hesitated, "when he was injured. I brewed medicine here."
Hazelrink chuckled dryly, his tone laced with sarcasm. "How romantic."
She grimaced. "What did you pray for, Hazelrink?"
He paused. "For your God to give me enough strength to protect what matters."
She turned her head, studying his face with quiet disbelief. What could possibly matter to him?
His father was rotting away on Imperilment Island in the North Atlantic, a prison so cruel only mages and warlocks could survive entering. Even the prisoners there are tortured. His mother had died soon after the war, wasting away from illness while he was across the continent in Romania, too far to return in time.
"I see," she murmured softly.
They reached a door at the end of the stairs. Revlis pushed it open, and Hazelrink squinted as sudden sunlight spilled into the underground chamber. The ceiling was latticed ironwork, like a cage, allowing rays of light to pierce through.
Beneath it, the room was alive, rows of green and silver leaves, and faintly glowing petals. The air smelled fresh, almost sweet.
Revlis slipped on her gloves, crouching by the first row of plants. She brushed her fingers across a cluster of deep violet leaves.
"What are these?" Hazelrink asked, peeking from her shoulder.
"Herbs," she said simply. "They can help animals and humans."
"Normal animals?" He arched a brow.
"Even magical creatures," she replied. She plucked a few stems carefully. "This one here is Luna Sage. It helps calm fevers, even in creatures with burning cores. That golden one is Emberbloom. It soothes blood poisoning. And those silver ones are Asagrass, used for broken bones."
Hazelrink tilted his head. "So you've got yourself a garden of miracles."
Revlis stood, clutching a bundle of herbs. "Just medicine."
When he leaned closer to inspect the wall, he lifted his hand and cast a spell. A sudden slap of wind rushed across the stones, brushing away the dust. He flinched as the carved lines revealed themselves.
Crude drawings came into view, scratches gouged deep into the stone. They looked desperate, like the hands that made them had trembled in agony.
They tortured us and took turns.
They didn't stop when we begged them to.
They were cruel.
Hazelrink's eyes narrowed. His jaw tightened.
Revlis turned to him, her lips parting as if it hurt to speak. "These are carvings left behind by the women who were dragged here. During the wars between some countries, soldiers brought them down to this place. They were not spared... not even the nuns."
His hand balled into a fist, veins standing out across his knuckles. She saw it and grimaced.
"It wasn't only soldiers," she said softly. "Even priests. Some of them abused their power. Men of faith, hiding behind God's name, who twisted their authority to satisfy themselves."
Hazelrink let out a low chuckle. He reached out slowly, his fingers brushing the grooves in the wall. He pressed his thumb into one of the carved words.
"How laughable," he muttered, his voice rasped. "The same mouths that prayed, the same hands that blessed. And here, those same hands carved scars into women's bodies. Devotion on the surface, but cruelty beneath. How typical."
He drew his hand back, staring at his palm as if it had been dirtied. His expression was pure disgust. "Tell me, Velroque... What's the difference between a devil and a priest when both use power to torment the weak?"
He clicked his tongue and looked back at the carvings. "At least devils don't pretend they're holy."
Once they returned to the CPA Division, Hazelrink stood at her side as they worked in the lab. He steadied the vials while she carefully poured the brewed liquid from the herbs, then mixed it with the translucent fluid taken from the creature. The liquid swirled, before it settled. Revlis grimaced as the reaction stabilized, it was successful.
The other veterinarians quickly took over, transferring the medicine into smaller doses and preparing it for use on the animals.
When they finally stepped out of the lab, Revlis peeled off her gloves and tossed them into the disposal bin. The sterile white coat followed, leaving her shoulders lighter. She exhaled softly, running a hand through her hair before pulling it back into a ponytail.
"Miss," Zachara's voice broke the moment. He approached with his usual quiet urgency. "The Eldritch would like to see you."
"Ah, right." She tightened the band around her hair, then glanced at Hazelrink. "Good work today, Hazelrink. Thank you for your assistance."
He gave her only a curt nod.
When she arrived at Luschariel's office, she found him hunched over his desk. At least he finished half of the portion.
"You called for me?" she asked.
He did not look up immediately, only set aside the page and pressed his seal down. At last, his eyes met hers. "What was my Secretary doing in the CPA Division, conducting laboratory work? Tell me, do you work there now?"
Her lips pressed together, caught off guard. "I was merely helping them. They're short on apothecaries."
"Revlis, are you still cross with me? Is this about the guest of honour at the Gala? You hardly spared me a glance all day."
She tilted her head slightly. "No? Hardly. You're mistaken."
He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together, studying her with narrowed eyes. "Mistaken, am I? Strange, then, that my own Secretary cannot be found where she ought to be."
"I'm not mad, Luschariel."
Then suddenly, a bright smile curved onto his lips.
"Really? Very well. I have something for you to review regarding the case of—"
"No."
Her refusal came quick, cutting him off. He exhaled a long sigh, leaning back in his chair as though he was defeated. "Oh well, I tried."
But before he could change the subject further, she stepped closer.
"I was hoping to ask... why is Hazelrink under the clearance of Divine Clause Seven?"
His posture stiffened instantly. He closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose as though her question was a needle driven into his temple. "That is private information."
She released a quiet sigh, her brows knitting. "Is he dangerous... just as I saw him?"
"Yes," he replied.
Her gaze remained on him. "Then why is he here, walking freely within the Sanctum?"
His eyes lifted to hers. "Because, Revlis... sometimes keeping a beast within reach is safer than letting it run loose."
Was Hazelrink truly that dangerous? She could hardly tell. Was his family tied to something darker still? She didn't know, and the thought unsettled her.
She stepped out of the office, and walked down the corridor.
Her pace faltered when she bumped into someone. She looked up, and blinked twice.
"Ah, Revlis," Solrien hesitated. "I would like to apologise for what I said last time..."
"Don't worry." She gave a small huff, brushing her sleeve. "Hazelrink was probably just in a bad mood." Her voice dropped into a mumble. "Besides, I understand where you're coming from."
"It was for Zelvaflore." His gaze drifted away from hers. "I hope you can forgive me. But right now, my wife's emotional state is what matters most to me."
Revlis parted her lips, but no words came. How convenient. Yet, instead of voicing her thoughts, she curved a smile that felt foreign even to herself.
"I know."
He gave her a nod, relieved perhaps to take her answer at face value. "I'll see you around, Revlis. Oh, and do try to attend the twins' birthday. It would mean a great deal to Zelva."
Arriving at her flat, Revlis immediately let herself collapse onto the couch. Her limbs felt heavier than her thoughts, but only just. She shut her eyes for a moment, then something caught her attention.
A single envelope was on the table. She blinked, sat up, and reached for it. The familiar handwriting made her chest tighten before she even broke the seal.
She unfolded the letter.
Dear sister,
Have you been well? I'm so excited for the holidays. I passed alchemy, just as you told me I would! They said I was truly gifted! Wait until you hear me boast once I'm back.
I heard brother Yuhens returned from Romania. I really want to see him too. Did he start working at the Sanctum? As what exactly?
I can't wait to be home. My friends here sucks :( I miss you so much!
Yours truly,
Kcalb Velroque