Silence reigned once more in the Oratory Chamber, but this time it wasn't a holy silence—it was the silence of a tomb. Smoke from burning marble and the metallic stench of blood filled the cold air.
Elian still knelt amidst the shattered crystal shards of The Heart of Marigold. His trembling hands clutched Elara, as if releasing her for even a second would cause her to evaporate into light. Elara's dull silver hair was messy, covering her tattered convent uniform.
"Elara... wake up..." Elian whispered. His voice cracked, hoarse, and barely audible.
But there was no answer. Elara's breath was faint, as delicate as the flutter of a dying butterfly's wings.
Elian felt excruciating stinging pain in his left arm. The Ring of Weight on his finger no longer glowed, but it felt as if it had fused into his nerves. The skin around the ring was charred, and golden cracks in his bone shone dimly beneath the torn flesh. The resonance he had performed came at a price; he had borrowed power his damaged Core wasn't yet ready to contain.
"Don't try to channel your mana into her, Elian. You'll only kill her."
Lunaria's voice came from the shattered doorway. The Elf Queen stepped inside, her silver sword coated in the thick blood of Templar knights. Her violet eyes swept the room, pausing briefly on Benedict's ruined corpse before fixing on Elian with an unreadable expression.
"She lost too much essence," Lunaria knelt beside them, placing her hand on Elara's forehead. "The Church didn't just take her energy; they bound her soul to that ritual. When you shattered the crystal, you severed the bond, but it left a massive hole in her Aura Core."
Elian looked at Lunaria with hollow, red eyes. "Can she heal?"
"Physically, she will heal. But her power... she might never be able to touch Aura again for years," Lunaria stared sharply at Elian. "And that might be a blessing. Without power, the Church will no longer target her as a battery."
Elian fell silent. He stroked Elara's pale face. A bitter thought crossed his mind—a thought that would form the foundation of his future decisions.
If I take her with me, she will always be in the shadow of their pursuit. I am the killer of an Archbishop. I am a ghost hunted by the entire Empire.
"We have to go," Lunaria said, her pointed ears twitching. "I hear the great bell from the main tower. It's the Bell of Judgment. Every Holy Knight within a ten-mile radius will be heading here. If we get pinned down in this valley, there will be no way out."
Elian tried to stand, but his legs instantly gave way. He fell back, shielding Elara so she wouldn't hit the floor.
"Ugh... my body..."
"You overused Gravitational Feedback," Lunaria sighed. She took Elara from Elian's arms, carrying her with one arm while helping Elian up with the other. "Your bones didn't break thanks to that dragon structure, but your nerves are fried. You're going to feel like you're being stung by a thousand bees for the next few weeks."
They moved out of the Oratory through the back route Lunaria had prepared. While traversing the convent corridors, Elian saw a sight that would haunt him: paintings of gods now smeared with the blood of the guards he had slaughtered.
On a corner wall, Elian spotted a symbol carved in silver—The Weeping Eye. He had seen that symbol once in an old book in his father's library. It wasn't an official symbol of the Celestia Church, but the emblem of the Order of the Weeping Eye, a secret executioner faction even more feared than the Inquisitors.
Benedict wasn't the supreme leader, Elian realized. He was just part of something far bigger.
This was a seed of information Elian would trace years later, when he realized the Vane family's destruction wasn't just about territory, but part of a "Salt Cleansing" planned by that secret faction.
***
They reached the edge of the forest outside the Silent Valley as dawn began to break. Thick fog helped conceal their escape.
In a small cave hidden by ancient tree roots, Lunaria laid Elara on a pile of dry leaves lined with her cloak. Elian sat leaning against the cave wall, gasping for breath.
"Elian," Lunaria called softly.
Elian turned.
"You can't take her," Lunaria said directly, skipping pleasantries. "If you take her to Noctis, or back to Elven territory with me, her identity will be exposed. She needs a place where she can 'disappear' as an ordinary person."
Elian clenched his fists. "I know."
"I have connections at a small orphanage on the outskirts of Oakhaven, far in the southern region, outside the direct reach of this convent," Lunaria explained. "She can live there as a war orphan. She will be safe. The Church will think she died in the explosion at the Oratory."
Elian stared at his still-unconscious sister. His heart felt like it was being squeezed.
"She will hate me," Elian whispered. "She saw me fall two years ago. If she wakes up and I'm not there... she will think she is truly alone in this world."
"Better she feels alone than she dies on an altar," Lunaria placed her hand on Elian's shoulder. "And you... you must grow. You must become strong enough that one day, you can come for her not as a fugitive, but as someone untouchable."
Elian was silent for a long time. He remembered his promise to his father. He remembered his promise to himself.
The Academy.
There was a neutral academy in the center of the continent—Sky Haven Academy. A place where nobles, commoners, and even other races studied together. It was under the protection of the World Council. It was the only place where he could meet Elara again without raising suspicion, five years from now.
"Take her, Master," Elian said, his voice cold and flat, as if he had just shut off a part of his soul. "Give her the pilgrim's badge I picked up earlier. Tell the orphanage caretaker her name is 'Ara'. Do not mention the name Vane."
Elian crawled closer to Elara. He kissed his sister's forehead for the last time.
"Wait there," Elian whispered into Elara's unconscious ear. "Never look for your brother. Because the brother you knew is dead. The one who will come for you later... is someone who will burn this world for you."
Elian stood up. He removed the cloth tie binding his hair and placed it in Elara's hand. A small keepsake he hoped Elara would never remember.
"We leave now?" Lunaria asked.
"No," Elian stared north, toward the mountains leading to the free lands. "You take her. I will lure them in the opposite direction. I will let them chase the 'Ghost of Vane' into the forbidden forest."
"That is suicide, Elian! Your nerves haven't healed!"
"I won't die," Elian smirked, a grin inappropriate for a child his age. "This world isn't done torturing me yet, so it won't let me die this quickly."
Lunaria stared at her student for a long time. She realized Elian was entering a phase where pain was no longer an obstacle, but fuel.
"Three months," Lunaria said. "In three months, I will meet you at the coordinates we agreed upon at the Noctis border. If you don't show up..."
"I will show up," Elian cut in.
Without looking back, Elian stepped out of the cave into the rain that began to fall. The burden of the Ring of Weight on his finger felt heavier than ever, not because of gravity, but because of the weight of the loneliness he had just chosen.
Behind him, Lunaria carried Elara and disappeared toward the south.
Elian Vane, the last heir of the Black Rose, was now truly the only person who knew he was alive. He ran through the forest, leaving trails of mana he intentionally leaked so the Templars could follow him.
Somewhere high in the sky, behind the overcast clouds, an 'Eye' seemed to open for a moment, staring down at the boy running alone. A massive gamble had just begun on the chessboard of the gods.