The return to St. Celeste was a silent hell.
Left behind was the cold chamber of the Inquisition and the veiled threat in Aldric's eyes.
They walked through the academy's halls, but the place that once felt like a refuge now seemed like a cage.
Raziel watched them laugh, and he felt a distance that was impossible to cross.
How could they go on as if nothing happened, when he was carrying the weight of broken futures and a present that was falling apart?
Then there was the Bond.
That blue window that had appeared to him.
Now he felt Lucian in a different way.
An undercurrent of panic that the noble tried to hide under his typical arrogance, though now it was just a fragile mask.
The next few days were strange.
The friendship that was just starting to form between them was now tense.
Raziel tried to find comfort in the chapel, kneeling before the statue of the Goddess.
But Zhalyr's peaceful face, which used to calm him, now seemed to judge him.
Gift from the Goddess, or something that was eating him alive? He didn't know anymore.
When he reached the dorms, Raziel stopped in front of his new door. Marius had ordered his transfer to a single room in the oldest wing of the building.
The official excuse was 'a need for spiritual reflection', but Raziel knew the truth.
It was easier to watch a rat if it was alone in its cage.
At least Elijah was far away.
His old roommate didn't deserve to be collateral damage in his disaster.
He went in and locked the bolt.
Back in his room, he tried to summon the golden light.
He called it to the palm of his hand, but it was no longer the firm, pure glow from before.
Now it flickered, unstable, and a shadow clung to its edges, staining its radiance.
CRACK!
A sharp pain shot up his arm.
He gritted his teeth, trying to control the power, but it felt like holding onto a wild animal.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he forced his will upon the light.
Finally, the light stabilized, but something had changed forever.
It was tainted.
He snuffed it out abruptly, and the shadows in the room seemed to pounce on him.
He sat on the bed, his head in his hands, crushed by the weight of his own power.
With Lucian avoiding him and his faith in pieces, Raziel took refuge in the only place that offered answers: the library.
He buried himself among old tomes and forbidden texts, desperately searching for something, anything, that could explain what was happening to him.
One afternoon, while he was deciphering a really complicated text about the first orders of Paladins, a soft voice pulled him out of his concentration.
"Raziel?"
He looked up.
It was Lara, the Baron's daughter.
Her delicate features were marked with worry.
She stood by his table, hesitant, with a shy curiosity in her eyes.
"I… I noticed you've been spending a lot of time here, alone," she said, her voice a bit shaky.
Raziel stayed on guard. 'What does she want? Did someone send her?'
"I know we haven't talked much," she continued, unaware of his distrust, "but I thought… maybe you'd be willing to… share your knowledge with me?"
He studied her for another second.
He remembered her problems in the Novice Trials, how she had failed the Priestess test.
"I failed the Priestess test again," Lara confessed, and her cheeks turned red.
"And the Scribe one… it's really hard. I thought… maybe you could help me prepare for the next ones."
Raziel hesitated.
All he wanted was to be alone, to sink into his books until the world disappeared.
But the loneliness was heavy, and there was something in Lara's sincerity that disarmed him.
"I'm not sure I can help you much," he said in a low voice. "My own path… has gotten complicated."
Lara nodded, understanding. "I get it. But I'd appreciate any help. I feel lost, Raziel. I could use a friend."
Her words, so vulnerable and honest, struck a chord with him.
He sighed, defeated, and pointed to the empty chair beside him.
"Okay. I'll help you."
A smile of pure gratitude lit up Lara's face as she sat down.
They had barely started when determined footsteps echoed in the silent library hall.
Lucian didn't just enter, he burst in.
His confident walk was a facade that couldn't hide the nervousness in his eyes.
He scanned the room until he found them, together over a book.
"Well, well," Lucian said, his voice trying to be mocking but coming out too tense.
"If it isn't the two biggest bookworms in St. Celeste. Don't mind me."
Raziel looked up, and concern showed on his face. "Lucian, I wasn't expecting you here."
Lucian shrugged, forcing a half-smile.
"What can I say? The life of a noble is boring." His gaze shifted to Lara, and his smile faded a little.
"And I see you've found yourself a new study partner."
Lara sat up straight, blushing. "Lord Lucian, Raziel has been very kind to help me."
Lucian raised an eyebrow, looking from one to the other.
"How… noble of him." He dragged a chair over and sat across from them.
"So, what are you two working on?"
Raziel hesitated. "Just… helping Lara prepare for the Trials."
"Ah, right. The Trials." Lucian leaned back, drumming his fingers on the table. His gaze locked onto Raziel, intense. "Tell me, how have you been since… our little trip to the capital?"
Raziel's jaw tensed.
"I'm… getting by," he answered quietly.
Lucian's eyes narrowed. "Getting by, huh? And what about that power of yours? Have you figured out what it is yet?"
'Shit.'
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Lucian leaned over the table, lowering his voice.
"Don't play dumb, Raziel. I saw what you did in that crypt. That energy… that wasn't normal." He shook his head. "It was an incredible power."
Raziel gripped the book. "I don't have the answers you're looking for, Lucian. What happened… I couldn't control it."
Lara shifted, uncomfortable. "Maybe we should get back to studying?"
Lucian's gaze stayed fixed on Raziel for another moment, as if he was begging him with his eyes to have a magic solution for his problems.
"Fine, carry on." He stood up abruptly.
"I'm sure we'll talk later, Raziel." He paused at the door. "We have to talk."