The Present

The night air was cool against Lily's skin, a sharp contrast to the stifling confines of the sewers she had just emerged from. The darkness of the city enveloped her like a cloak, offering a semblance of anonymity she desperately needed. Her heart was still racing, not from fear, though, but from the adrenaline of her recent encounter in the sewers and the resolve that had solidified within her. She needed to leave the capital, leave behind the painful memories and the unending machinations of the Church.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice, one that carried with it a flood of memories, both fond and painful. “You should have never come back,” Lumius said, his tone laced with a mix of accusation and something else she couldn't quite place.

Lily turned to face him, her eyes meeting his in the dim light. Lumius stood there, the gray in his hair more pronounced than she remembered, his expression a mixture of anger and something akin to hurt. Then, he moved towards her swiftly, his movements betraying a sense of urgency.

As he reached out to grab her, Lily's instincts, honed by years of training, kicked in. She swung her knee upward with precision, striking him where she knew it would hurt most — every man’s weak point. The next moment, Lumius doubled over with a choked groan, the air knocked out of him.

“Who do you think you are?” Lily's voice was hard, her words slicing through the night air. “Don’t touch me! Go away!” She had no time for this, no patience left for the games and plots of the Church and its minions—even those she shared some history with.

“You—” Lumius tried to speak, but his voice was strangled by pain. He struggled to regain his composure while his face contorted in agony. “Shadows take you,” he cursed under his breath, the words barely a whisper.

Lily watched him for a moment, her heart heavy. Once, there had been a friendship, a bond. But that was before the world had shown her its true colors before she had lost everything she once held dear.

She turned away, ready to make her escape, when Lumius's next words stopped her in her tracks. “Your father sends me!” he called out, his voice strained but loud enough to reach her.

Lily hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. Could her father really have sent him? After all this time, after everything that had happened? But no, it was too risky to entertain such thoughts. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in their web again, not when she was so close to freedom, to finding her own path.

Without another word, Lily activated [Wraithform], her body becoming ethereal, untouchable. She phased through the nearest building, leaving Lumius and the world she once knew behind. Her heart ached with the weight of her decision, but she knew it was the right one.

...

The cobbled streets of Alalia, usually brimming with life, were eerily quiet as Lily navigated her way through the dark alleys. She had traded her recognizable attire for rags scavenged from the slums – a necessary disguise to ensure her unnoticed escape. The coarse fabric itched against her skin, a constant reminder of the urgency of her situation. She couldn't afford the luxury of being recognized.

They’ll fall for it, she smirked to herself. Hadrian had informed her of a little detail about her clothes that made all the difference in a situation like this one...

She needed to get back to Hadrian. The [Librarian] had been more than a mentor; he had been her anchor in a sea of chaos, the one person, except her father, who had always guided her with wisdom—the man who had allowed her to free herself from the metaphorical shackles that she had put on herself by growing up in the Church of the God of Light and crossing a dimension.

She knew the road back to the monastery like the back of her hand – a testament to her studies and preparation. A day’s journey on foot, perhaps less if she pushed herself.

[Alchemic Constitution] would do the heavy lifting there. And she could always use [Necrotic Restoration] on a patch of trees whenever she felt her stamina drop too low.

The last memory she'd have of the capital would be the memory of her healing the afflicted masses, a bittersweet farewell to a city that had given and taken so much from her. However, her journey needed to continue far beyond the reach of the Papal State. Not until she amassed enough strength, enough levels to burn the Church down, would she even consider returning.

Approaching the city gates, she contemplated her options. The straightforward path was tempting but laced with risk. Lumius’s pursuit meant the gates would perhaps be heavily guarded, even with a possible check of her appearance, which was distinct enough to make it impossible to fool a trained [Templar] if they had indeed received instructions to look out for her. It wasn't a gamble she was willing to take. She veered away, opting instead for a more covert route.

She recalled the layout of the city’s defenses, her memory painting a vivid map in her mind. There was a spot near a small lake where the wall was notably thinner. It was a vulnerability she could exploit, albeit a risky one. [Wraithform] had its limitations in terms of how thick of a wall she could phase through. When a wall was too thick, she would just be bounced back out of it—and considering that it physically hurt, it wasn’t fun at all.

Navigating through the dimly lit streets, she felt the weight of her decision pressing heavily upon her. The life she had known within these walls, the connections she had forged, the pain and loss she had endured – all of it was now a part of the past she was leaving behind. With each step, she distanced herself from a destiny once written for her by others.

As she reached the vicinity of the lake, she jumped above a closed store, looking at the still waters reflecting the moon’s silvery light, casting a serene glow over the area. The tranquility of the scene was in stark contrast to the turmoil within her. She paused, taking a moment to gather her thoughts and steady her resolve. This was it – the point of no return.

She eyed the wall.

It should be enough.

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She jumped down from the building, tasting the cold air in her mouth, and crouched low as she touched the ground. She blended with the shadows and slowly made her way to the wall: as soon as her hand touched it, she took a deep breath.

Activating [Wraithform], she felt her body lighten, her physical form yielding to the ethereal one. She started phasing through the wall, her heart pounding in her chest.

...

Lumius, his gray hair a disheveled contrast to his determined gaze, entered a modest house with two [Templars]. The residents watched in wary silence as he held a small, glowing stone. “She’s here,” he stated confidently. The stone, a magical tracker, pulsed faster, suggesting its target was nearby.

The [Templars], loyal and skilled, searched the house thoroughly. In the upstairs room, they found nothing but a sack, which they brought back to Lumius. He opened it to reveal the clothes and tiara he had given Lily. Seeing these items, Lumius felt a mix of nostalgia and sorrow.

“I need to speak to my uncle. I don’t know why he sent me away—someone else should be chasing that girl,” he said quietly, “Let’s go back to the Citadel. He’ll have to figure something out himself.” His tone was tinged with resignation.

As he left the house, Lumius was at a loss.

The revelation of Lily’s return, her escape, and her overall reaction all painted a complex picture of the girl he once knew. The Lily of his memories seemed far removed from the one he had just met.

Or maybe I was just wrong all this time, he told himself. Maybe it’s a good thing that Ludmilla took her place.

...

In the dimly lit hall of the Papal Estate’s dining hall, the air was thick with tension and unspoken ambitions. [Princess] Ludmilla, her auburn hair elegantly styled, sat at a long table surrounded by the most influential figures of the realm. Her expression was a mixture of displeasure and curiosity, her gaze lingering on [Cardinal] Atticus, who sat across from her, his smile as enigmatic as ever, and Lucianus Claudius, the father of the girl who had apparently liberated the city from the Plague.

"Why did Lumius have to fetch the girl?" Ludmilla questioned, her tone laced with a subtle hint of annoyance. The topic of Aurora Claudia, a name she had only recently become familiar with, had piqued her interest but also irritated her.

[Cardinal] Atticus, always poised, leaned forward slightly. "Your Highness, childhood bonds are not easily broken. Lumius and Aurora share a past. Who better persuade her to come to us than someone she trusts? We must extend as much goodwill as we can after such a great achievement." His words were smooth, carefully chosen to ease the [Princess]'s concerns.

At the head of the table sat [Pope] Ennius Constantinus and nodded in agreement with the [Cardinal], his eyes briefly meeting those of Lucianus, who sat quietly, his expression unreadable.

Lucianus, the Patriarch of the Gens Claudia, had further increased his influence over the troops and had become a legendary figure among the soldiers by now. He had been a key figure in the Church's politics for years, and his relationship with the [Pope] was ever complex... something that [Cardinal] Atticus had suggested get resolved as swiftly as possible.

The [Pope] broke the silence. "Lucianus, your daughter has shown herself to be invaluable. It is our intention to Anoint her before she selects her class. Whatever darkness has taken her Light Magic, it will be cleansed, and she will fulfill her destiny as an... as a being more dedicated to the Lord than us all.”

Lucianus responded with a practiced smile, his voice smooth as he replied, "Your Holiness honors me. To have my daughter serve the Church in such a capacity is more than I could have ever hoped for."

"But we aim for even greater heights," the [Pope] continued, his voice taking on a weightier tone. "Aurora will be the successor to your lineage, Lucianus. An edict has been drafted. Whoever she marries will adopt the Claudia name – an unprecedented decision, given she’s a woman, but necessary for the times we face."

Lucianus bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment.

"We will end the Necromonarchy," the [Pope] declared, his jaw set firmly. "This war has drained us for too long. With Aurora at the forefront, wielding the blessings of our Lord, victory is assured."

The room fell silent, each person contemplating the weight of the [Pope]'s words. The war against the Necromonarchy had been a thorn in the Church's side for over a decade, a constant drain on resources and morale.

[Cardinal] Atticus then suggested a toast to the newfound alliance and future victories. The servants quickly filled the chalices with wine, the rich red liquid glinting in the candlelight.

As the toast was proposed, and each person present raised their glass, a sudden shift occurred. The [Pope], who had been the first to drink, suddenly clutched his chest, coughing violently. His eyes widened in shock as he looked down at the crimson stain spreading across his white tunic.

"W–what..." he gasped, his strength fading rapidly. His attempts to summon his Mana or invoke the Holy Flame were futile. The light in his eyes dimmed, signaling an abrupt end of his reign.

Panic ensued. [Archcardinal] Lucretius, the [Pope]'s brother, rushed to his side.

“Ennius!” The man shouted as he clutched his brother’s body.

“What is happening?!” Lucretius shouted at the others, who all had cold expressions on their faces. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he shook his brother, unable to accept the sudden turn of events.

[Cardinal] Atticus watched the scene unfold with a hidden smirk. "Dragonbane is quite effective, Your Highness," he whispered to Ludmilla, who sat in stunned silence.

The [Princess] nodded happily and tried to speak up but found herself choking, her body convulsing as the same poison suddenly took hold of her. Lucianus watched blankly as the young woman’s death unfolded before him.

With a calm demeanor, he poured his wine to the floor, his eyes locked with [Cardinal] Atticus's. "Lucretius," Lucianus addressed the weeping [Archcardinal], "you must speak with your cousin. He will guide you in what to do next. You are now the Pope Regent until further decisions are made."

Lucretius, overwhelmed with grief and confusion, looked up as [Cardinal] Atticus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Lumius is the rightful heir, Lucretius. We must place him in charge as soon as possible. Do you understand?"

...

Lily, her muscles powering through the calm waters of the lake, felt the chill of the night air brush against her wet skin as she swum. The water's embrace was a stark contrast to the suffocating sewers and the humid slums she had left behind.

The quiet ripples around her were the only disturbance in the otherwise serene night. She was almost a ghost in this vast expanse, a lone figure moving steadily away from the city that had once been her world.

As she swam, her thoughts went to curing the Plague. The past weeks had been a relentless test of her resolve, her skills pushed to their limits. She had faced death, decay, and the darker side of humanity. Now, she was leaving it all behind, propelled by a renewed purpose and an old wound of hers: the haunting loss of Elysium.

But suddenly, the silence of the night was broken by the distant tolling of bells. Their solemn sound, echoing across the water, reached Lily's ears, stirring a sense of foreboding within her. She paused, treading water, and turned towards the city. Her eyes widened at the sight of a large, golden plume of smoke rising into the sky, its color unmistakable in the moonlit night.

What’s happening?!

She knew what that meant... the [Pope] was dead. The realization struck her with an overwhelming force, a mix of shock and disbelief. For a moment, she felt the weight of the news drag her down.

The [Pope]'s death was a monumental event, one that would send ripples throughout the Papal State and beyond. Lily knew the implications all too well: the power struggle, the ensuing chaos, the inevitable rise of another to take his place...

Wait! Lumius? Was he not lying? Did my father...

Shaking her head, Lily forced the thoughts away. This was no longer her battle. She had made her choice. What mattered now was her future—the plans she had made with Hadrian.

With renewed determination, Lily resumed her swim. The capital, with its towering structures and labyrinthine politics, faded into the distance. Far ahead lay the monastery, her real home, where she would find Hadrian again and, hopefully, a new life.