The summons arrived, as Henry knew it inevitably would, late the following afternoon. He had just returned to the barracks after a long, tedious patrol through the eastern sector's sprawling merchant quarter, his body weary from the day's exertions but his mind sharp, alert, braced for this moment ever since Archbishop Ralph's warning after the ascension ritual. A junior runner from the garrison command post found him stripping off his duty gear, delivering the message curtly: Soldier Henry Strike was to report to the Estath Cathedral immediately for an important discussion with the Archbishop and representatives from Central Command.
"So, this is the day," Henry thought, a cold knot tightening in his stomach despite his outward calm. He dismissed the runner with a polite nod. "Understood. I will proceed there directly."
He quickly washed the grime of the city from his face and hands, exchanging his dust-covered patrol uniform for the more formal, clean attire required for audiences at the Cathedral or Command Headquarters. He took a moment, standing before the small, cracked mirror above his bunk, steadying his breathing, composing his features into a mask of dutiful respect and perhaps just a hint of nervous apprehension appropriate for a Rank 3 soldier summoned unexpectedly by high authorities. He felt the faint, comforting thrum of the Sanctuary Seal beneath his tunic, a hidden reservoir of power and secrets. Time to see how well I learned my lessons in deception, he thought grimly, before turning and heading out into the fading afternoon light towards the looming spires of Estath.
Within the grand, echoing hall of the cathedral, sunlight streamed through the high stained-glass windows, painting the intricate flagstones in patterns of deep blue, ruby red, and brilliant gold. The air smelled faintly of old stone, beeswax, and the lingering sweetness of incense. Yet, the atmosphere was far from peaceful. A palpable tension permeated the solemn space.
Five individuals were seated behind a long, heavy oak table draped in dark velvet, positioned strategically before the main altar dais. Archbishop Ralph occupied the central, high-backed chair, his familiar benevolent expression tempered today by an air of profound gravity. Flanking him, casting the scene in a more ominous light, were four figures Henry didn't recognize, though two matched descriptions Ralph had subtly provided. All four were clad in stark black civilian attire of fine cut, further adorned with long black cloaks draped formally over their shoulders, suggesting membership in a serious, perhaps clandestine, branch of government service. Their presence transformed the sacred space into something resembling a formal court.
An acolyte directed Henry towards a smaller, simpler wooden table and chair situated several meters below the main table, facing the assembled panel. The arrangement felt deliberate, isolating. Henry felt less like a soldier reporting and more like a defendant standing before a tribunal, awaiting judgment. He suppressed a flicker of resentment, reminding himself to maintain composure. "Whatever," he thought with an inward shrug, settling carefully into the designated chair, keeping his back straight, hands resting formally on his knees. "Just let this be over soon."
The heavy silence stretched for a long moment, broken only by the distant echo of choir practice from another part of the cathedral. Finally, the man seated at the far-left end of the long table spoke, his voice crisp, authoritative, devoid of inflection. He appeared to be in his late thirties, with a stern, unyielding countenance, sharp, intelligent eyes, and that severe, close-cropped haircut Henry recognized from Ralph's discreet warning.
"Greetings, Soldier Henry Strike," the man began, his gaze pinning Henry in place. "Allow me to introduce myself and the panel. I am Chief Investigator Ragley, Zephyros Bureau of Investigation, Central Command." He gestured methodically down the table. "Beside me are Senior Investigator Cole, Senior Investigator Dash." Henry noted Cole's unwavering, analytical stare and Dash's quiet, watchful intensity. "You know Archbishop Ralph, of course." Ralph offered Henry a brief, almost imperceptible nod of reassurance. "And at the far end," Ragley concluded, indicating the only woman present, "is Specialist Brena."
Henry looked towards Brena. She appeared younger than Ragley, perhaps late twenties, with an air of cool, detached professionalism. Delicate gold-rimmed spectacles perched on her elegant nose, framing intelligent, assessing eyes. Her beautiful face remained utterly impassive, betraying no hint of emotion. Unlike Cole and Dash, who seemed to be reviewing documents laid before them, Brena carried no writing implements, simply listening intently, one hand propping her chin gracefully, the other resting lightly on the table's edge. She felt… different. Dangerous in a way Henry couldn't immediately quantify.
Archbishop Ralph leaned forward slightly, his kind voice cutting through the formal tension. "Henry," he said gently, "I know this seems intimidating. But understand, we harbor no doubts regarding your capabilities or your fundamental loyalty to Zephyros. However," his gaze became serious, "as I explained previously, this is a mandatory procedural review undertaken whenever a soldier exhibits… unusual characteristics or experiences anomalous events. It is a measure designed primarily to ensure your own safety and well-being, Henry, as well as the continued security of the nation."
"I understand, Your Eminence," Henry replied, striving to keep his voice steady and respectful. "And I understand this is the required protocol. I am fully prepared to cooperate with this examination in any way necessary to demonstrate my unwavering loyalty."
Ragley made a brief notation on the paper before him, then fixed his piercing gaze back on Henry. "Commendable attitude, soldier. Let us begin." His tone was all business. "We have noted certain… anomalous indicators concerning your recent experiences, specifically originating from the mission at Lake Loknezt where you were grievously injured. Could you recount for us, in your own words and in precise detail, exactly what transpired after you were struck by the Dino Serpent's final Aqua Pump attack?"
Henry took a measured breath, accessing the carefully constructed narrative he had prepared, omitting the crucial details about the Lifestream and Will. "Yes, Chief Investigator. The force of the blast was overwhelming. I was slammed against the underwater rock face with extreme violence. I felt bone break, the impact momentarily stunning me. The water column simultaneously caused a rock collapse, sealing the breach I was forced through and separating me from the main lake."
He paused, gathering his thoughts, projecting effortful recall. "My immediate priority upon regaining minimal coherence was survival. I realized my air bubble had been destroyed in the blast or the collapse. I was injured, trapped, and drowning. My focus was entirely on finding a path to the surface, any surface. I recall being carried by a strong, strange current through darkness… I vaguely remember seeing or sensing an unusual luminescence in the water around me at one point – a bright stream, perhaps – but frankly, sir, I paid it little heed. My only thought was reaching air before my lungs gave out. I followed the current upwards, eventually breaking the surface in a small, hidden body of water, likely a spring-fed pond connected to the subterranean system. I managed to drag myself ashore… but I was near total exhaustion from the effort and blood loss. I collapsed there. The next thing I knew, I was being found by the Aerion rescue team." He kept his gaze steady, hoping the explanation sounded plausible, the actions of a desperate, injured soldier focused solely on survival.
Investigator Cole interjected sharply from beside Ragley, his voice sharper, more probing. "Is that the entirety of the sequence, Soldier Strike? You experienced nothing else unusual during that period of disorientation? You omitted no details, however strange they might have seemed at the time?"
Henry allowed a carefully calibrated hesitation to enter his expression, a flicker of uncertainty, as if debating whether to share something potentially unbelievable or unsettling. "Well, sir," he began slowly, looking down at his hands before meeting Cole's gaze again, "there was something else. During the time I was submerged, drifting in that current… I believe I may have hallucinated due to lack of air or the trauma. I seemed to… hear a voice."
"A voice?" Investigator Dash leaned forward slightly, his quiet intensity focused entirely on Henry now. "Describe this voice. What did it say? How did you perceive it? Have you heard it again since that day?" The questions came rapidly, clinically.
Henry frowned, feigning difficulty in recall. "It wasn't… human, I don't think. More like… resonance? Like something ancient attempting communication. I couldn't see a source clearly, just a vague impression… perhaps a white orb of light? It's hazy." He focused on the partial truth. "The words… I remember them speaking of the year nine hundred and ninety-nine. Calling it the end of days, an unavoidable Apocalypse. Mentioned great beings descending from beyond… something about the world's true history changing forever." He shook his head slightly, looking troubled. "I heard it again, faintly, perhaps just before I surfaced. Just the word 'Apocalypse,' I think. Then nothing since."
He lowered his head, adopting an air of distress, of helplessness. "Honestly, sirs, Your Eminence… I dismissed it as delirium. A hallucination brought on by near-drowning. I am merely a low-ranking soldier. Talk of the end of days, great beings… what could that possibly have to do with me? My duty is to guard my post, maintain order, perhaps one day care for a family." His voice grew slightly choked, thick with feigned emotion. "That is all I concern myself with."
"A commendable focus, soldier," Ragley said smoothly, though his eyes remained sharp, analytical. "However, if you believed you experienced such a… hallucination… why did you not report these specific details to your Captain, or to Archbishop Ralph here, sooner? Especially given the gravity of the pronouncements you claim to have heard?"
Henry looked up, meeting Ragley's gaze with carefully crafted earnestness. "Chief Investigator, at the time, immediately after my rescue and during my initial recovery, I was uncertain myself if what I'd heard was real or merely a product of trauma and oxygen deprivation. To spread such potentially alarming information, based on what could easily have been dismissed as mere delusion, seemed irresponsible. It could have caused unnecessary panic." He took a breath, strengthening his resolve. "Furthermore, shortly after my promotion, I was informed by Archbishop Ralph himself," he glanced respectfully towards the Archbishop, "that due to the unusual speed of my recovery and the anomaly detected in my aether levels, I would be undergoing this formal investigation. To reveal such… pronouncements… then, knowing I was already under scrutiny, seemed even more dangerous. It might have been misinterpreted, twisted."
He leaned forward slightly, his tone becoming clear, resolute. "You yourselves, the Bureau, have likely been monitoring my activities closely since the Archbishop filed his report. You are undoubtedly aware that I have mentioned none of Ralphael to anyone prior to this moment. I chose this venue, this formal interrogation before esteemed investigators and the Archbishop, to reveal everything I experienced, however strange. Because I believe it is my duty to bring potentially crucial information, even if perceived in extremis, to the attention of those in high authority who possess the wisdom and resources to properly assess its true significance. That is why I waited." He hoped the calculated mix of honesty, duty, and slight vulnerability sounded convincing.
Archbishop Ralph remained silent, but his kind eyes held a measure of quiet approval. Ragley turned and conferred briefly in low tones with Specialist Brena beside him, her impassive face giving nothing away as she murmured a response only Ragley could hear.
After a moment, Ragley turned back to Henry. "Your reasoning demonstrates commendable forethought, Soldier Strike. Your desire to follow protocol and report sensitive information through proper channels is noted." His tone remained measured, professional. "However, given the anomalous nature of your recovery, your confirmed exposure to unusual subterranean energies, and now this report of… auditory phenomena, a thorough examination remains necessary. We need to assess both your physical and mental state to ensure there are no lingering detrimental effects or residual external influences. We trust you will continue to cooperate fully."
"As I stated before, Chief Investigator," Henry replied firmly, meeting Ragley's gaze without wavering. "I am fully prepared to assist your investigation in any way required. Consider it a testament to my loyalty and integrity."
"Excellent," Ragley nodded curtly. "I have always held faith in the fundamental character of Zephyros's soldiers." He made another note.
Henry hesitated, then leaned forward slightly, adopting an air of slight awkwardness. "Sir… Chief Investigator Ragley… there is one small matter. A personal request, if I may?"
Ragley raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the shift in demeanor. He leaned closer across the table. "Speak freely, soldier."
Henry lowered his voice, ensuring only Ragley could hear clearly. "Sir, regarding the… the memory examination aspect you mentioned. While I have absolutely nothing to hide concerning my duties or loyalties… there are perhaps… certain recent personal memories, involving myself and my companion, Sophia, that are… entirely private in nature." He flushed slightly, genuinely this time. "If it is within procedural bounds, sir, I would be deeply grateful if the examiner could perhaps… exercise discretion regarding those specific, intimate moments. It is merely a matter of personal… propriety. Maintaining a certain image, you understand."
Ragley stared at him for a beat, then a slow, understanding, almost sympathetic smile spread across his stern features. He leaned back, chuckling softly under his breath. He gave Henry a light, conspiratorial pat on the arm. "Hahaha! Understood, soldier. Completely understood. You needn't worry about that. The Bureau, and Specialist Brena, certainly adhere to our own strict rules and professional boundaries regarding matters of personal privacy unrelated to security concerns. Consider your… image… safe."
Relief, genuine and profound, washed over Henry. That had been a gamble, but it seemed to have paid off, adding a layer of mundane, relatable humanity to his profile.
Shortly thereafter, Henry was led by Cole and Dash from the main hall into a smaller, more secluded antechamber. The heavy door closed behind them, muffling the sounds of the cathedral. Inside, the room was sparse: a simple cot against one wall, a single chair, and minimal light. Only Archbishop Ralph, Chief Investigator Ragley, and Specialist Brena remained.
"Please, lie down on the cot, Henry," Brena instructed, her voice soft now, almost soothing, entirely different from her earlier silence. He obeyed, stretching out, trying to relax despite the circumstances. Brena sat beside him, her cool, slender fingers gently pressing against his temples. "Just relax," she murmured again, her gaze calm, meeting his briefly. "This is merely a standard diagnostic procedure to ensure your well-being. Nothing to fear. Rest for a moment. You will feel much better upon waking."
As her fingers rested against his skin, Henry felt a subtle wave of soporific energy flow from her touch, gentle but insistent. His eyelids grew incredibly heavy, the room blurring at the edges. He fought it for a moment, then consciously yielded, allowing the darkness to claim him, trusting in his earlier conversation with Will, trusting that his deepest secrets remained shielded for now. The world faded into silent blackness.
He awoke what felt like moments later to Archbishop Ralph gently shaking his shoulder, a warm smile on the prelate's face. "A brief midday slumber is most beneficial, Henry. Do you feel more refreshed?"
"Yes, Your Eminence. Much more at ease," Henry replied, sitting up, playing along with the facade, a cheerful smile fixed on his face. The underlying tension remained, but the immediate ordeal seemed to be over.
"Everything is concluded," Archbishop Ralph said, patting his shoulder. "Please follow these gentlemen outside. Inform me immediately if anything feels amiss."
"Thank you, Your Eminence. Thank you for your fairness," Henry said sincerely, nodding also to Ragley and Brena before allowing Cole and Dash to escort him out.
Once Henry was gone, Ragley turned to Brena, his professional mask firmly back in place. "Your assessment, Miss Brena? Are you certain he spoke the truth?"
"I employed truth-detection magic calibrated to emotional resonance," Brena replied crisply, adjusting her spectacles. "His statements during the interrogation were factually consistent with his emotional output. It aligns with a chance encounter, trauma-induced visions, and subsequent cautious silence." She paused. "The memory examination confirms this alignment. However," her brow furrowed slightly, "there are numerous fragmented sequences. Gaps. Sections that feel… indistinct."
"Meaning?" Ragley pressed.
"Meaning, it could be trauma affecting recall," Brena explained. "Or the experience itself was too arcane for his mind to fully process and retain coherently. There is," she hesitated, "another possibility, though highly improbable."
"Which is?" Cole prompted, looking up from his notes.
"That a mage of demigod-level power meticulously sealed specific memories," Brena stated, the hypothesis hanging in the air. "Memory examination and sealing both require direct physical or potent psychic contact. And any sealing below Rank 7 would leave detectable traces, residual energies. His mind… is remarkably clean. Either he is innocent, merely suffering memory fragmentation from his ordeal and the strange encounter, or…"
"Or he has an impossibly powerful, unknown ally," Ragley finished grimly.
"We have maintained continuous surveillance," Cole interjected. "No unusual contacts since his return from Loknezt. His activities are entirely routine."
"The sheer volume of potentially terrifying information – the voice, the prophecy – could easily overwhelm a Rank 3 mind, leading to fragmentation," Ragley mused, seeking the more plausible explanation.
"I continue to hold faith in the integrity of this young soldier," Archbishop Ralph stated firmly, his voice unwavering. "His connection to the Church, his relationship with Sophia… these are anchors of stability."
"Speaking of which," Ragley glanced at the Archbishop, a slight smile returning. "His personal request… to avoid prying into his romantic recollections. Quite endearing, his embarrassment."
Brena nodded stiffly. "I adhered to protocol and respected the boundaries of personal privacy, sir." A faint, almost imperceptible blush touched her cheeks.
"Hah, the intensity of youth," Ragley chuckled. "Even facing interrogation, his thoughts turn to his beloved. An interesting young man. Loyal, intelligent, prudent… If he continues developing well, Chief Ragley might find a place for him in the Bureau. Such qualities are valuable."
"Indeed," Brena murmured, her gaze drifting downwards as she absently rubbed the small, magic-stone crucifix hanging from her neck. "To find such devotion at twenty-two… Admirable." Her expression was distant.