When Felix came to, there were three things he knew. The first was the obvious, he was alive. The second was he knew what he must do: atone. And, finally, the third…

The High Prophet.

Just saying the name made his blood boil. It was that man who had toyed with Felix’s emotions, his memories. It was that so-called prophet that twisted and turned him into a monster.

And yet, he is not entirely at fault. Deep down, I knew what I was doing…

He sat up and took in the room he found himself in. It was dim, only a half-burned out candle was lit. But it was enough, he was back in that room, back in the Palace.

Looking down at himself, Felix was amazed to find himself free of any scars. Surely, he should have something. Right? He had been burned, roasted, cooked alive– Yet, he had not a single mark, not even calluses.

There was a commotion at his door, the sound of several people whispering before a simple knock at his door. It opened a moment later.

Felix looked up in time to see the bishop enter, a wicked and cruel smile upon his face.

“Ah, Brother Felix, you are awake. Apologies for the interruption,” he said before giving a bow.

“I…am– I mean, Yes. I’ve just awoken,” Felix responded, slowly pulling his thoughts together.

The bishop gestured at him. “Please, allow me to examine you. I and my clergy worked tirelessly to save your life, I’d hate to allow something to go amiss.”

He stared at the older man for several moments before slowly nodding. This could be a trap… “Thank you Brother, that would be appreciated.”

“Wonderful,” the bishop said with a smile and approached. He began inspecting Felix’s body.

After a few seconds of silence, Felix decided to break it. “How bad was it?” he asked, watching the bishop work.

“Hmm? Your body or the city?”

He furrowed his brows. “I was referring to my wounds, but I suppose the city as well.”

The bishop gave him an understanding nod. “You were grievously wounded, however, we managed to get to you in time. We spent over a week healing you. And, as for the city? The damage was centered mainly around the palace, but several crucial spots were hit as well.”

Felix frowned as the talk of his condition brought forth another question. “How did I even survive? I was staring down Nev– That beast. He was about to unleash his fire and finish me.”

“I and the clergy performed the ritual, I suspect we managed to caste it in time,” the bishop said with a cocked eyebrow. He had clearly noticed Felix’s slip-up. However, and at least for now, he didn’t seem interested in pursuing it.

Felix stiffened at the mention of the ritual, he knew exactly what the bishop meant. It was their weapon against the fey, and it worked by destroying all holy energy– No, mana –in an area. That included what was in people as well, not just the air or ground.

However, the main reason it concerned Felix was because it needed an immense amount of mana to work. Mana crystals were a good source for that, but mining and the general availability of them had dwindled over the centuries. Not to mention, creating artificial crystals was far too costly for what one would receive in return.

That left them, the Holy Triumphant, with only one simple and effective option…

Sacrifices.

“I see,” Felix said, remembering he needed to be calm. “Thank you for that, then. Any later, and I doubt there would have been anything left of me aside from ashes.”

The bishop, finished with his inspection, pulled back and gave him a disappointed Tsk. “You shouldn’t joke like that, Brother.”

He shrugged, finding it easy to mask his true feelings. “Sorry, Brother, but gallows humor is common among us soldiers.”

“Ah! But you are no soldier, you are the Champion. You should do well to remember that.”

Felix had to keep from wincing at the title, now that he knew and understood just what said title carried with it.

“Anyway,” the bishop continued, “I believe you have recovered enough to move around. However, I must insist on not doing anything too strenuous for a few days.”

“Understood. But, before you go, have you made a report to the High Prophet yet?” he asked.

For a split second, the bishop’s twisted smile came back. “Unfortunately, I have. The High Prophet wishes to speak with you as soon as you are able. I suspect he will not be happy with what has happened.”

Damn it. “I can imagine not. To be honest with you, Brother, your efforts on saving me might’ve been in vain.”

“Nonsense,” the bishop said, waving Felix’s concerns away. “His Holiness is forgiving. That, and this assault was not entirely your fault. He was displeased, however, with you not chasing after the elves.”

Felix almost narrowed his eyes at the bishop. “It sounds like you stood up in my defense.”

“Of course, you were unable to defend yourself. We might not always see eye to eye, but I am not your enemy.”

Bullshit, he just put me in his debt… I need to figure out what I am going to do, and fast. None of this is going to end well. “No, I suppose you are not. Again, thank you Brother.” He gave the bishop as much of a respectful bow as he could while still sitting in a bed.

“Anyway, it is getting late and, while you are mostly healed, you could do with more sleep. Though, tomorrow morning, you should contact His Holiness. He was concerned about your well being.”

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“I shall, and I will. Goodnight, Brother,” Felix said, forcing a smile. In truth, he was already considering his options.

“Rest well, Champion.” With that, the bishop gave him a small bow and left.

Alone, Felix let out a sigh. I can’t stay here, he realized. The bishop alone would eventually figure out his change in heart. He had already noticed it wavering previously. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t notice anything now…

That was curious to Felix, and he wondered if that miasma he felt dissipating was somehow a part of it. Sort of makes sense, I think? They twisted my emotions and feelings, and they had to do that somehow–

He suddenly shook his head. Focus! Even if that is the reason, I shouldn’t stay any longer. In fact, it's all the more reason to leave! He will definitely notice that I am not under…whatever spell or curse they placed on me.

Felix quickly scanned the dimly lit room. He was looking for his gear or, well, anything he might be able to use. His eyes landed on a large wardrobe on the opposite side of the room.

Quickly, he threw the covers off of himself and got out of bed. His body protested, but he ignored the stiffness in his joints and made his way over to the wardrobe.

Throwing open the doors, he breathed a sigh of relief at finding his gear. He picked up his cuirass and inspected it.

The, once silvery, metal was now tarnished from the hellish flames that Nevrim had used on him. That wasn’t all, either. The piece of armor was pitted and scarred, but luckily not warped.

A hint of worry crept into his mind. Please, still work… Felix feared that the enchantments had been destroyed.

Closing his eyes, he pushed his mana into the cuirass and…

The armor responded to him.

Thank the Lord– The Gods, he thought, forcefully correcting himself. No longer would he call the Lord his one true god.

Felix shook his head, he was wasting too much time. He set the cuirass down and began to pull out the rest of his armor. Much of it was in similar condition but he didn’t bother testing their enchantments and instead began donning it…

A few minutes later, he tightened the last strap and picked up the last two pieces of gear. His helmet and sword.

With a deep breath, he attached the sword and its scabbard to his waist and slid his helmet on. And, as he began to close the wardrobe, he noticed a small mirror hanging from one of the doors.

Studying it, Felix took in his visage.

The pitted and tarnished look of his armor gave him a smile. It was somehow a fitting look for him now that he was essentially turning traitor.

Traitor… The word caused his smile to falter. What he was about to do would make him an enemy of the Holy Triumphant. What he was about to embark on was certain death.

Felix turned around and faced the door to the room.

He came to a decision.

So be it.

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Sitting within a grand study, the bishop relaxed and leaned back in his chair. Despite everything that happened, things were going quite well for him. In fact, he was able to accelerate many of his plans.

With Felix in my debt, I can use him to gain favor with the High Prophet. He smiled at the thought. Of course, that was only part of his plan. He had something far more ambitious in mind…

Without warning, his room shook violently, throwing him to the ground. And, as he struggled to his feet, someone began pounding on his door.

“Enter!” the bishop shouted as he quickly straightened his robes.

The door burst open and several of his priests entered. “Father! Are you alright?!” one shouted as they rushed up to him.

He waved the concern away. “Please, I am fine. Tell me, though, what is happening? Are we under attack?”

The priests looked at each other with concern. “Father… It’s Felix.”

“What–”

The study shook violently once more, forcing all of them to grab a hold of the desk to remain upright.

“By the Lord! What do you mean it’s Felix?” the bishop asked once he regained his balance.

“He’s…” the first priest gulped.

“What? What has he done?!” he demanded.

Another priest chose that moment to speak. “Father, we believe that Felix has gone rogue.”

“Rogue? Do you mean–”

Another rumble stopped him, however the first priest finally found his voice.

“He’s turned traitor!”

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Felix stood and looked upon the cityscape beyond him. Behind him, destruction. He had destroyed all that he could and forced the surrounding guards to flee. Now, all that stood between him and freedom was a long walk…

“FIRE!” The command came from the wall above as archers quickly took aim at him.

Arrows rained down, but between his armor and mana, Felix was left untouched. He waited until they were done before looking up to them.

Closing his eyes, he gathered his mana and condensed it. A moment later, he pointed it at the archers and let it loose.

Silently, it arced up and struck the formation. Men were sent flying, many falling off the wall and to their deaths.

Felix said a small prayer and brought his attention back to the city. No doubt alarms would be raised–

A bell rang out.

To him, it sounded like it was tolling for the dead, tolling specifically for him.

He broke out into laughter. Of course it's ringing for me!

Shaking his head in amusement, Felix took a step. Then another, and another. All the while, his mana began to swell, becoming chaotic as the weight of his decision laid heavy on his shoulders.

His laughter turned into incoherent screaming and tears began to blur his vision. He was losing it.

Everything! Everything is my fault! I did this!

A building next to him exploded. It crumbled harmlessly to the ground.

Look at this place! Once a beautiful city! Once filled with beautiful people!

He winced as an arrow managed to slip through his mana and graze him.

But no more! I killed it! I killed them! I killed– The memory of the elven queen bound and accepting her death played out before him.

“Atonement.”

He stopped, ignoring a spell soaring past him. His hysteria began to recede.

Floriana, I will atone for my sins.

Felix pulled his chaotic mana back to him, bringing it close to his chest. His hands grasped it, and he did something different.

Please, let this be my first act of atonement.

His mana responded, changing, converting. It continued to condense.

Another explosion, debris landing at his feet.

Please, let me survive this. Please…

His eyes closed as the ball became unstable and bright, blinding him. Still, it continued to shrink.

“Let me find peace.”

Time froze and Felix felt every decision he ever made. The good, the bad, the ugly. It all came to him one more time, weighing him down, judging him.

It answered in its own way, in a brilliant flash.

Night turned to day…