As soon as they got back to Idris's house, Sena said she wanted to see how he worked in the kitchen.
"It wouldn't be magical and amazing if you just watched me cook, now would it?" he teased, subtly hinting for her to leave him to it.
"But I want to help… And I want to learn," Sena urged, almost pleading.
"It's okay, next time I'll teach you something easier. This is a bit more complex than your average steak, you know." Idris advised, truly not wanting to show her how he cooked, and also desiring some quiet moments to himself.
The outline that just vanished boggled his mind, but he didn't want Sena to notice it.
Sena pouted. Like a child, she stomped her way upstairs to her room.
As he prepared the rabbit steak, slicing gracefully with precision, he found himself lost in thought. What would happen if the High Matron caught a glimpse of her soul…
Better yet, what would happen to her if 'She' found her soul.
He worried about Sena.
His face knotted as he contemplated the best course of action and how to deal with this peculiar stray he had found. He could have easily called upon one of the foot soldiers stationed by the border gate this morning, but he opted not to.
If someone sees her soul, I can only imagine what lies before her.
Meanwhile, Sena, up in her room, looked at the rows of books lined on the shelf. She looked for the pamphlet or booklet that might have passages from Echoes of Elioudra.
Scanning the rows of books, nothing specific caught her eye. She scoured the room for drawers, checked the drawers of her bedside table, and found nothing.
She checked the drawer underneath the study table and found a thin booklet.
It was covered in deep royal blue, with the same embellishments as the banner above the fireplace: The Divine Compendium.
Oh, this must be the pamphlet Idris mentioned.
It paled in comparison to the Echoes of Elioudra—no hardbound elegance, no luxurious finish, no smog-gold gilding. It looked more like a cheap afterthought than a sacred text.
Upon opening the book, she noticed each page carried a numbered passage.
───⸻⟐༒⟐⸻───
The Divine Compendium of Azarette
"For our Mother, who gave the first life, shed the first tear, and let go with grace, we shall all return with a debt of the heart, not in pieces but as one soul."
I - From the Boundless Luminescence of Azarette, the Eternal Mother, all existence flows and is sustained; by Her Grace alone are we.
II - Ashriel, the Prime Scribe of Souls, by divine decree transcended the celestial veil, embracing mortal coil to chronicle every spirit's passage; a hallowed sacrifice, sanctified by the Mother's Immutable Will.
III - By Azarette's Sacred Ordinance, only those souls born of the Ashriel Lineage shall know true Reincarnation, returning within the hallowed confines of their kin; an eternal testament to their divine covenant.
IV - Let it be known: Any soul's Echo that presumes to return outside the Sanctified Ashriel Lineage is an Abomination against the Divine Order, a Blasphemy that shall be ruthlessly scrutinized and utterly purged.
V - The Divine Crown, forged from the Single Tear of Azarette's Celestial Grief for Ashriel's Descent, shall forever grant its Chosen Bearers the Sight Beyond Sight, revealing the Soul's Purest Essence.
VI - Loyalty, immutable and profound, transcends ephemeral emotion; it is inscribed within the Soul's Eternal Archive, binding the Faithful to an unbreakable Covenant, beyond the sway of mortal years.
VII - We, the Daughters of the Ash, are the Ordained Seers, the Vigilant Guardians of the Soul's True Form, and the Sacred Keepers of the Great Records, guided by the High Matron's Infallible Wisdom to preserve Azarette's Celestial Purity.
VIII - The Sacred Equilibrium of Existence is veiled within the Unwavering Adherence to Ancient Rites and Hallowed Customs; for Deviation shall surely birth Chaos and unravel the Cosmos.
IX - The Profoundest Truths reside not in the Echoes of Spoken Words, but within the Silent Currents of the Unseen Realm; for that which is Hidden, bears the Greatest Weight and Significance.
X - Comprehend that even Profound Sorrow, as epitomized by the Goddess's Celestial Tear, holds a Divine Purpose; for from the Crucible of Grief shall emerge Enduring Strength and Guiding Luminescence.
XI - Every Anomalous Soul, its essence clouded or true, shall be brought before the Divine Scrutiny of the Daughters of the Ash, for by their Gifted Sight alone shall Purity be distinguished from Aberration.
XII - The Hallowed Tranquility bestowed upon Azarette demands Eternal Vigilance; for its Preservation requires the Swift Suppression of Imbalance and the Ruthless Purging of all Corrupting Influences.
───⸻⟐༒⟐⸻───
She read through the passages and teachings with growing discomfort, the tone so flat and self-important it was hard not to feel secondhand shame just holding the thing.
"Hmm… this is it?" Sena frowned, thumbing through the text.
"It doesn't read like Echoes of Elioudra at all. Are they sure this wasn't patched together by someone pretending to sound holy?" she uttered in a mocking tone.
Silence thickened in the room like fog.
Though the windows were shut, the air grew unnaturally cold… biting at her skin, stealing warmth from her breath.
A faint, brittle sound broke through the stillness: a slow, creeping crackle, like frost creeping across glass.
Her eyes flicked toward the window.
A web of ice bloomed across the pane, delicate veins branching like ghostly roots. The temperature plummeted, shifting from cold to suffocating, from discomfort to a freezing pressure that gripped her lungs.
She choked, her breath catching painfully in her throat.
I shouldn't have mocked this compendium…
The thought barely finished before the world tilted. Her knees buckled, spine giving way, and she collapsed. Arms limp, head striking the floor with a dull, final thud as the cold swallowed her whole.
Idris heard the loud thud coming from upstairs.
He tried to sense if Sena was okay, but oddly, her room was engulfed in a hazy abstraction he couldn't sense through.
He dropped the herbs he was chopping and hurriedly wiped his hands on the apron he was wearing while running briskly up to Sena's room.
He halted at the door, holding back from pushing it wide open. Clearing his throat, he knocked and called out, "Sena? Are you okay?..."
Silence.
No response from inside.
He knocked and called again…
Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he tried sensing again beyond the door.
The foggy, hazy, abstract environment within the room prevented him from knowing what was happening inside. He noticed his breathing became ragged. He felt the chill emanating from the room.
He cautiously pushed the door open. As it swung wide, the cold, humid fog washed over him as it escaped the enclosed room.
His heightened senses could now outline the man clutching the baby, lying on his back on the floor. A ball of protruding light hovered above it.
Without thinking, he jerked his arms forward, making the wooden floorboard shift into a pointed spear, striking the ball of light.
The form dissipated into a violent burst, pushing open the windows like escaping pressurized air. In his unseeing sense of black and white, he couldn't for the life of him know if he had been successful in maiming the figure.
All he knew was that the temperature had drastically changed, with the heat wave from outside wafting through the room.
Scrambling towards Sena's unconscious body, his fingers trembled, hesitating to touch her.
A soft wave of his hand made the spear-like wooden floorboards revert back to their original form, as if nothing had happened. He commanded the windows, also framed in wood, to close shut.
He held on to Sena's shoulders and shook them slightly.
"Sena… Sena, are you okay?!" he asked, waiting intently for a response.
He slowly scooped Sena up from the floor and gently placed her on the bed, tucking her underneath the sheets. He reached for her forehead and noticed the touch of her skin was cold as ice. He touched just behind her ears, almost at her nape, and felt a slight heartbeat.
Rushing back downstairs, he picked up the pot of boiled water, intended for his truffle gravy, and transferred it into a wooden basin. Grabbing a towel from the washroom, he hurried back into her room.
He caressed and attended to Sena, delicately and gently wiping her cold skin: her forehead, face, neck, and arms. He also rubbed his palms together to warm them and used them to warm Sena's cold hands.
"What the fuck is an Impiety doing here?!" he muttered, slapping his lap in frustration.
"She doesn't even know about the Goddess for an impiety to have attacked her," he continued.
"What happened here?"
Not only had he been unable to sense the forming Impiety, it had been able to touch Sena's soul.
His unseeing eyes noted that her soul's outline was still intact.
But the fact that she had been enclosed with a maledict might have something to do with the hazy form from the forest earlier that day. He could do nothing but wait.
As he sat down, beside her, he rested his elbows on his lap, his fingers interlaced, and brought his nose level with them. He pondered his best course of action now.
He was torn between bringing Sena to the capital and risking her being seen by the Daughters or the High Matron herself. But he couldn't just wait for Sena to stir. He took a moment to calm his nerves.
His house and the surrounding forest should have been divinely blessed, purified, even. He remembered how potent 'his' divination was.
He recalled someone from his past who had intense divinity purifying the surroundings of his house and adjacent forest.
He let out a long, dejected sigh… "Haaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh…"
With a swift wave of his hands, he barricaded Sena's room in an instant, his lauded lignum shield snapping into place. Harder than steel and nearly unbreakable by blade or bolt, it would have to be enough to protect her while he was gone.
He dashed downstairs to his room, scribbled a note, and sealed it. He bolted outside and headed straight to the guard post by the gate, riding the earth, roots erupting beneath him like a surging wave, propelling him at high speed beside the cobblestone road.
As he reached the gate post, he handed his letter to a rider.
"Send this to Chase Ashriel, Physician of the Royal Household, immediately," he advised, his voice stern. The rider took the letter, slipped it into his coat pocket, and rode back towards the conveyance gate without delay.
Idris turned back toward his house, ignoring the stationed defender watching from the gatehouse's mezzanine as the rider vanished into the distance.
— — —
Once he arrived back home, he expanded his lignum shield to envelop his house's exterior. He also placed well-hidden protective barriers within its immediate vicinity.
Chase will know how to navigate this, he thought to himself as he strode towards the front door and locked it shut.
With the scent from the resting rabbit steak, he swiftly covered it, portioned the chopped herbs into smaller ramekins, and secured everything under a food cover. He then walked straight back to Sena's room.
The barriers he had placed were untouched. They unfurled as he got closer to the room, and the ones covering the door receded completely by the time he arrived in front of it.
Not wanting to make a noise, he peered in quietly, checking if she was still unconscious. He moved closer and sat beside her once more.
Gently, he felt her skin with the back of his hand to see if she was still cold to touch. Luckily, he felt no lingering chill. Her breathing was steady but she didn't show any signs of waking up soon.
Waiting for time to pass silently, he fell asleep unexpectedly.
A continuous banging on the door woke him up abruptly. Taking a quick sense at Sena, still asleep, he carefully left her room without making much noise.
Even recognizing Chase's presence, he cautiously checked for any accompanying figures. To his relief, Chase had come alone.
He raised his open hand and slowly closed it. In unison, all lignum barriers surrounding his house unfurled and melted back into the earth. He opened the door.
His friend stood before him, face grim and imposing, etched with worry and profound concern. He gestured towards the couch before closing the door behind them.
Chase, catching the distraught look in Idris's eyes, said nothing. He simply followed his lead, settling onto the couch nearest the door. He couldn't help but wonder what could warrant such an abrupt summons, and with no explanation.
"Your letter only had an exclamation mark. I can't even believe you still write letters," Chase quipped, trying to lighten the mood. But after witnessing the lignum barrier earlier, he knew this was no joke. Something was definitely wrong.
Idris sat down beside him, to his right. Letting out a long sigh, Idris brushed his hair back, and leaned into the headrest.
"I found a strange stray... And if you tell anyone about her, I'll kill you," he said, unseeing eyes fixed on the ceiling. His tone was flat, matter-of-fact, not threatening, but serious all the same.
Her?
Chase raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering. Huh… still a man after all. He chuckled inwardly, but flinched when he remembered… Idris could sense his emotions.
"Tsk." Idris clicked his tongue, the mischief in Chase's aura not lost on him.
"So, why exactly would you kill me, someone you've been friends with for seven wonderful years, just for a stray? Hmm?" Chase mused, crossing his legs. He propped an elbow on his knee and rested his chin on the back of his hand.
One brow arched, a devilish smirk curling at the edge of his lips. His foot swayed lazily in growing anticipation. "So? Are you going to keep me in suspense, or a—"
Before he could finish, Idris cut him off.
"An Impiety touched her souls," Idris said, the worry on his face was impossible to hide.
Souls?
Chase's eyes narrowed in fascination. Hmmm. What an abomination.
"Alright. I'll check her," Chase replied. "But your life force might suffer a bit. I haven't done this in a while," he warned.
"I know." Idris lowered his gaze from the ceiling and turned just enough to meet Chase's eyes. His expression now solid with determination.