CHAPTER 87: CH 87: BLAME - PART 4

The streets of the holy quarter glimmered faintly beneath the light of the floating lanterns, their soft radiance catching on the pale marble walkways.

It was late enough that most of the faithful had returned to their homes, yet the city was not silent.

A quiet hum lingered in the air—merchant carts being packed away, distant bells tolling from the temple spires, and the faint hiss of incense drifting through the night breeze.

Lysera walked with purpose, her long strides steady against the echo of her boots on stone.

Beside her, Irielle kept pace, her arms folded, the line of her mouth tight.

Neither had spoken much since leaving the house; the urgency of the matter left little room for small talk.

Halfway to the High Priestess’s residence, a figure detached itself from the shadows near the mouth of a side street.

Evaya stepped into their path, the golden trim of her uniform catching the lamplight.

"You two look like you’re about to start a war."

She said dryly, eyes flicking between them.

"Not far from it."

Irielle replied without missing a step. Her tone was clipped, but the tension beneath it was clear.

We’re going to see High Priestess Jenna."

Evaya’s gaze sharpened at the name. Without another word, she fell in step beside them.

"Then I’m coming with you."

There was no request in her tone—it was simply decided.

The walk to the High Priestess’s residence was not long, but the air seemed to grow heavier with each street they crossed.

Jenna’s quarters stood at the heart of the upper quarter, its gates carved from white stone and inlaid with silver prayer sigils that shimmered faintly when touched by moonlight.

Two robed attendants bowed them through without question, and soon they were guided into a grand receiving hall.

High Priestess Jenna greeted them personally, dressed in her ceremonial robes of ivory and gold, her hair pinned with an intricate diadem.

Her presence was commanding yet warm, her eyes steady as she gestured for them to sit.

But the warmth did not last long.

"What? A trial... tomorrow? Without due process? Those vultures—"

The word left her lips like the crack of a whip, her voice rising in disbelief as Irielle relayed the situation.

She caught herself before finishing the thought, but her expression was enough to show the depth of her anger.

Jenna began pacing, the folds of her robe swaying like a restless tide.

"Things are not going well on my end either. "I’ve sent messages to the other High Priestesses across the continent. Not one has answered. It is as if the council itself has chosen to turn a blind eye."

She admitted, her tone more grave now.

"That’s... troubling."

Evaya said carefully, though her eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

"At this rate I may have no choice but to use the artefact."

Jenna went on.

Irielle tilted her head.

"Artefact?"

"A relic passed down through my predecessors."

Jenna explained. She stopped pacing and faced them fully.

"It is a truth-bound object, one that reveals the reality of any matter without distortion or falsehood. But..."

Her eyes grew heavy.

"It can only be used once by each person. I have kept it sealed for decades, intending it for the gravest of emergencies."

Lysera leaned forward slightly.

"Then this sounds like the perfect time to use it."

"I agree, but there is another obstacle. Even if we use it, the public will only believe the results if someone of recognized authority testifies to its authenticity. Normally, the other High Priests or Priestesses would serve this role, but with their silence..."

Jenna said.

The room fell into a tense quiet. Lysera and Irielle exchanged a long glance—one of those unspoken conversations where the meaning passed in the space of a heartbeat.

"Does it have to be someone holy?"

Lysera asked finally, her tone careful.

Jenna shook her head.

"Not necessarily. Anyone with unquestionable authority could serve as a witness."

Lysera hesitated. Her gaze dropped, as if she were weighing the cost of each word before letting it leave her mouth.

"...In that case, I can get the Dragon King’s youngest daughter to testify."

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut.

Jenna’s eyes widened, her voice almost incredulous.

"That... would work. Without question. But that’s impossible."

Irielle’s lips curved faintly.

"Not for Lysera. Let’s just say the two of them are... very close."

Something unreadable flickered across Jenna’s face, but she did not pry. Instead, she gave a slow, decisive nod.

"If you can truly bring her here, then the artefact will have all the credibility it needs. I will leave this in your hands, Lysera."

There was no mistaking the weight of that trust.

The meeting ended shortly after.

The three women stepped back out into the cool night air, the quiet of the streets now feeling heavier than before.

The walk back was uneventful, but when they finally reached the small courtyard outside Lysera’s home, Irielle stopped, turning to face her.

"Is Kana’s safety worth revealing that secret?"

Her voice was steady, but the question hung in the air like a challenge.

Lysera did not answer right away. She crossed to the window, resting one hand on the frame as she looked out over the shadowed rooftops.

The lantern light caught in her eyes, making them seem almost distant.

Finally, she turned back, her lips curving into a faint, almost self-mocking smile.

"I must like her more than I thought... if I’m already planning how to help her."

The smile didn’t quite hide the flicker of uncertainty in her gaze—but it was gone in the next moment, replaced by a calm, unwavering resolve.

Whatever the cost, Lysera had made her decision.

Irielle studied her for a long moment, as if searching for cracks in that calm resolve. The silence stretched, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves in the courtyard.

"You’d better not blame Kana for any of this."

She said at last, her tone quiet but laced with warning.

Lysera’s answer was a simple.

"I won’t."

Overhead, the lanterns swayed gently in the night breeze, their light casting shifting patterns across the stone walls.

Somewhere far off, a temple bell rang, deep and resonant, marking the hour. It felt like the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for whatever tomorrow would bring.