Chapter 98 : The Church Moves
The bells of the Cathedral of Saints tolled before dawn, slicing the cold air with their iron certainty.
From the highest window of the Church Tower, the High Priest looked down on the city like it belonged to him.
"Magic flows too freely here," he murmured to the white-robed Inquisitor beside him. "Like weeds after rain."
The Inquisitor bowed his head. "Shall I ready the purification scripts?"
The High Priest's gaze flicked toward the school in the distance. "No. First, let's trim the vines. Quietly. A decree will do."
Elias was late.
Not tragically late. Not "my potion exploded" late. Just the kind of late that came with living alongside a firestarter disguised as a teenage girl.
"I couldn't find my left sock," Revantra said from the kitchen, unapologetic.
He peered around the doorway. "It was under the plant pot. Again."
She blinked. "Oh. I thought that was where the other sock was hiding from it."
Elias pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something about sock ecosystems, then shrugged into his coat. The hospital was calling mages in early this week for something "important and holy"—two words he trusted less and less these days.