Aric’s journey down Mount Morris was a silent one. His mind swirled with the events of the past few days—his confrontation with the blight, the eerie presence of his original body, and his inability to reclaim it. The physical pain still lingered from his wounds, but it paled in comparison to the storm brewing within him. The subtle hum of Khaos at the edge of his senses only fueled his frustration.
As he neared the base of the mountain, the fortress came into view. It was an imposing structure, nestled against the rocky landscape like a sentinel standing guard over the Isles. The walls were high, weathered by time, and the air around it seemed tense, as if the stone itself held its breath. This was the headquarters of the Church’s operations on the Forgotten Isles, and where the members of the Church awaited him.
The gates loomed large as Aric approached, and the guards stationed there exchanged glances, recognizing him immediately. The whispers of his exploits and the mystery surrounding him had already reached their ears, no doubt, but they said nothing as they opened the gates to let him through.
Inside, the fortress was a mix of old stone halls and flickering torches, a cold, functional space that served as both a military outpost and a sanctuary for the Church. The scent of burning wood and oil lamps filled the air, the fortress eerily quiet despite the activity going on within its walls. Aric scanned the courtyard, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the familiar face of Subdeacon Giselle. She stood at the far end, speaking with a group of Church members dressed in their dark robes, the unmistakable crimson insignia of the Church adorning their chests.
As he approached, Giselle’s eyes flicked toward him. Her expression shifted from mild annoyance to a forced neutrality as she finished her conversation and stepped toward him.
“You’re here,” she said, her voice clipped. “Good. The others are preparing for the Ecumenical Council, but before that, we need to get ready for the journey. You won’t be traveling to the Sky Island without proper rest.”
Aric waved off her concern, though he could still feel the ache in his chest. “I’ve rested enough,” he replied, his voice calm but with an edge of impatience. “We should be moving, not sitting around.”
Giselle’s eyes narrowed slightly. “This isn’t about sitting around. You’ve been through… more than any of us could have imagined. And with what you’re carrying…” Her gaze flickered down to his chains, the dark energy still faintly coiling around them, before returning to his face. “You need to be careful, Aric. Khaos isn’t something to be used carelessly.”
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Aric’s jaw tightened. He knew she was right, but it didn’t make the words any easier to hear. He had no intention of fully unleashing Khaos—not unless he had no other choice.
“Where are the others?” he asked, changing the subject.
“The Church members?” Giselle gestured to the doors leading deeper into the fortress. “They’re preparing for the Sky Island trip. We’ll be departing tomorrow morning at first light. Until then, you need to rest. The journey to the Sky Island isn’t easy, and you’ll need your strength.”
Aric glanced past her to the distant doors, feeling the weight of her words sink in. He hadn’t had a real moment of rest since arriving on the Isles, and even now, the physical exhaustion tugged at his body. His limbs felt heavy, and the strain of the climb still lingered in his muscles.
“Fine,” he said after a moment. “I’ll rest.”
Giselle’s expression softened slightly, though her annoyance from earlier still lingered beneath the surface. “Good. There’s a room prepared for you.”
Without another word, she led him through the stone corridors of the fortress, the flickering torches casting long shadows on the walls. The air was cool, almost damp, and the sound of their footsteps echoed in the quiet halls. Eventually, they arrived at a small room—bare but functional, with a single bed and a small table. It was hardly luxurious, but it would do.
“You can stay here until we leave,” Giselle said, stepping aside to let him enter. “I’ll let you know when it’s time.”
Aric nodded and stepped inside. The door closed softly behind him, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He removed his cloak and draped it over the chair, then sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling slowly. His body protested with every movement, reminding him of the strain he had put himself through.
As he lay back on the bed, his thoughts drifted to the upcoming journey. The Sky Island was the heart of the Church, the place where the Ecumenical Council and the Patriarch resided. Meeting with the Patriarch would be no small matter, especially considering Aric’s current status as an Acolyte candidate. The request to meet him directly had already been an overreach, but after what had happened on the Isles, he couldn’t afford to be dismissed.
His thoughts wandered to his siblings—Graham, Dulce, Akali, Haelcar, and Ursa. He had sensed their presence earlier, and it still gnawed at him. What were they doing here? Were they drawn to the same disturbances he had been? Or was it something else entirely? He couldn’t shake the feeling that their presence on the Isles was no coincidence. And yet, he wasn’t ready to face them. Not now.
Before he realized it, exhaustion overtook him, and Aric’s eyelids grew heavy. The bed was surprisingly comfortable, and despite the weight of his thoughts, he found himself slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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Hours later, Aric woke to the sound of a soft knock at the door. His muscles still ached, but he felt more rested than he had in days. Sitting up, he stretched, feeling the tension ease from his shoulders.
The door creaked open, and Giselle’s face appeared. “The preparations are complete. We leave at dawn.”
Aric nodded, pulling on his cloak. “I’m ready.”
She studied him for a moment before stepping back, her expression unreadable. “Get some more rest. The journey to the Sky Island is unlike anything you've experienced.”
With a final nod, Aric lay back down. Tomorrow, they would leave for the Sky Island. Tomorrow, he would face the Ecumenical Council and the Patriarch.