Chapter 10: Beyond Saving

Chapter 10. Beyond Saving

Meanwhile, far-far away from Rey’s mansion.

The bells of the Light Temple rang beneath a sky already drowning in dusk.

Their sound rolled through white marble halls, soft and solemn, carrying across towers carved with golden scripture and stained-glass windows that burned orange beneath the dying sun.

Priests moved quietly between pillars. Incense drifted in thin silver streams. Candles flickered along the central aisle, their flames so steady that the entire temple seemed suspended outside time.

At the very center of it all, beneath the enormous statue of the Goddess of Light, Elia Seren knelt before the altar.

Her hands were clasped.

Her head bowed.

Golden hair spilled over the shoulders of her white ceremonial robe, catching the last fragments of sunlight passing through the stained glass. From a distance, she looked exactly like the image people carried of her in their minds.

The Saintess.

The woman whose healing magic had dragged hundreds of soldiers back from death during the war against the Dark Lord.

Her lips moved silently. Not because she needed the prayer.

Mostly because prayer was quieter than thinking.

And thinking had become unpleasant lately.

She tightened her fingers.

The prayer continued.

For several breaths, nothing disturbed the silence.

Then...

Elia froze.

Her eyes snapped open.

The sensation lasted less than a second.

Barely that.

A distant wave of something dark and violently dense that brushed against her magical perception before disappearing so completely that, for an instant, she wondered whether she had imagined it.

Her heart disagreed. It slammed against her ribs.

Too fast.

Her holy mana reacted instinctively, gathering beneath her skin in thin golden threads.

Elia slowly lifted her head.

The candles nearest her trembled.

Beside the altar, Darius Arclight had been standing with his arms folded, waiting for her evening prayer to finish. He noticed immediately.

His posture changed.

The casual patience vanished from his shoulders.

One hand moved toward the hilt of the holy sword resting against his hip. "Elia?"

She stood.

Her knees almost felt weak.

Darius frowned. "Something happened?"

Elia didn’t answer immediately.

Her senses stretched outward.

Through the temple.

Across the surrounding district.

Past the city walls.

Nothing.

The presence had vanished.

But she knew what she’d felt.

Corruption.

This had been concentrated.

Dense.

Heavy enough that even from this distance it had made her holy mana recoil.

"I felt..." she murmured. "Corruption energy."

His expression hardened. "How strong?"

"Dense."

That single word was enough.

Darius straightened. "From where?" He scanned the temple windows as though expecting a corrupted beast to smash through one of them. "Monster attack? A new corrupted energy source?"

"I don’t know."

Her brows drew together.

She closed her eyes again and reconstructed the direction.

It had come from the west.

No.

Slightly northwest.

Her eyes opened.

Slowly, Elia turned.

Her gaze settled past one of the high windows overlooking the distant noble district.

There.

Her stomach tightened.

Darius followed her line of sight.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then his mouth curved. "That direction?"

Elia remained silent.

Darius gave a short breath through his nose. "Well." His fingers loosened from his sword. "That’s where Rey’s mansion is."

The name landed much harder than it should have.

Elia’s expression didn’t change.

Darius’s did. His smirk sharpened. "I wonder if he’s finally lost his mind."

Elia looked at him.

There had been a time when hearing someone speak about Rey that way would have angered her.

A surprisingly vivid time.

She remembered Rey standing beside her during the war, robes torn, blood running down one side of his face, still calmly constructing a battlefield formation while everyone else panicked.

She remembered him giving her the last mana-restoration potion because she’d needed it more.

Remembered falling asleep against his shoulder during a three-day march. His hand over hers beneath a supply wagon when nobody had been looking.

She remembered loving him.

That was the problem with memory.

It had terrible timing.

Elia turned back toward the window. "Last time my spy reported," she said quietly, "Rey was preparing a sacrificial ritual."

Darius’s amusement faded slightly. "Who is the victim?"

"Ariel."

His brow lifted. "That woman? The one who clings to him regardless of what anyone says?"

She nodded.

Darius let out a low scoff. "She always did have terrible judgment."

Elia’s jaw tightened. She could still remember Ariel defending Rey during one of the council meetings.

Everyone had been discussing his instability.

The curse.

His declining power.

The increasingly violent magical episodes around the mansion.

And Ariel had stood there, small and furious, insisting that Rey wasn’t a monster.

That he was sick and needed help. None of them understood what he was enduring.

"She deserves it," Elia said.

The words came easily enough.

Then silence followed them.

A long one.

Darius glanced at her.

Elia looked away. She had once loved Rey.

Perhaps some small, humiliating part of her still did.

But love had been easier when he was Rey Valen, Royal Magus, strongest caster of the Five Heroes. Before the curse hollowed him out.

And Elia had been the healer.

She was supposed to fix him.

Rey expected it.

She tried.

Again. Again. And again.

Nothing worked.

Sometimes the curse retreated. Then returned stronger.

Eventually, Rey began deteriorating faster than she could suppress it.

He became angry. Unpredictable. Cold. And fear had crept in where affection used to live.

Elia hated admitting that.

So she rarely did.

Instead, she told herself she had made the rational choice.

Survival.

She stopped visiting the mansion as frequently. Then stopped completely.

She spent more time near Darius.

A man powerful enough to stand between her and Rey if the Royal Magus ever decided she had abandoned him and came looking for the healer who had promised she would save him.

That was what she told herself.

Protection.

Not betrayal.

Darius studied her for several seconds. "Elia."

She looked at him.

His voice softened. "Do you still love him?"

She hated Darius a little for asking. "No."

Darius’s gaze remained on her.

Elia folded her hands in front of herself. "He already has five wives."

"That wasn’t what I asked."

"He’s a lost case."

He turned toward the temple doors. "If that corruption really came from his mansion, then Ariel may already be dead."

Elia’s fingers tightened again.

Darius continued. "And Rey will hide it."

Her eyes narrowed. "You think so?"

"Of course." He gave her a look almost offended by the question. "What do you expect? That he’ll announce to the kingdom that the great Royal Magus sacrificed his wife because he couldn’t control himself?"

Elia didn’t reply.

Darius’s expression hardened. "He’ll cover it. The servants will stay silent. The other wives will protect him. They always do."

That was true.

Rey’s wives were fiercely loyal.

Disturbingly loyal, in Darius’s opinion.

Elia had never understood the extent of it either.

Five women who could have returned to their own kingdoms and courts whenever they wished. Yet they stayed. Even as Rey’s reputation rotted.

Darius stepped down from the altar platform. "We need the public to see what he’s become."

Elia finally turned fully toward him. "What are you planning?"

His smile returned. "The king’s birthday is approaching. The palace banquet."

She understood immediately.

A huge event.

Nobility. Military officers. Temple representatives. Foreign guests. Ambassadors.

Possibly members of the Five Heroes as honored attendees.

Darius crossed his arms. "We invite Rey and Ariel."

A cold sensation crept along her spine.

"If Ariel appears," he continued, "we observe her. If she’s injured, frightened, cursed, whatever... people will see it."

"And if she doesn’t?"

"Then questions begin."

Elia looked toward the windows again. "And Rey?"

"We are going to corner him." Darius’s voice dropped. "Invite him to a friendly duel." His smile sharpened. "There are only two possible outcomes. If he holds back and loses, the public will finally see that we were the ones carrying the fight against the Dark Lord, not him."

His eyes turned cold. "And if his pride gets the better of him and he goes all out..." The smile returned. "His curse will devour whatever stability he has left. He’ll lose control. Preferably in front of every guest at the banquet."

Elia hesitated. "What if he refuses the invitation?"

Darius actually smiled wider. "Even better."

She frowned. "How?"

"Rey still carries the title of Royal Magus. He’s still technically one of the Five Heroes." His eyes hardened. "If he can’t even appear before the king because he’s too unstable to control himself, then we finally have grounds to challenge both titles."

Elia went still.

Darius continued calmly. "We tell the king Rey can no longer represent us. He’s already dragging our name through the mud. Forbidden magic. Corruption. Rumors of madness."

His jaw flexed.

"We defeated the Dark Lord to give this kingdom peace. I won’t let Rey destroy everything we built because he refuses to accept that he’s beyond saving."

Elia’s chest tightened at those words.

Beyond saving.

How many times had she thought the same thing?

Darius looked at her. "If he refuses the banquet, we remove him from the team."

The temple bells rang again.

Elia lowered her gaze.

For some reason, she remembered a battlefield from years ago.

Rey standing in front of her.

Bleeding.

Exhausted.

Smiling slightly as he handed her the last potion.

’You need it more.’

She closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, her expression was calm. Saintly. "Send the invitation."

And far away, beyond the temple’s golden windows, the last trace of dusk disappeared.