"Why are you here?"
"Our mission was to monitor the ruins. That's it." Eryndor's voice was firm, but Ian could feel the truth beneath it. "We were stationed here to watch for any developments and report back."
Ian's fingers curled. "…Then why were you trying to get close to Myrra?"
Something flickered in Eryndor's gaze, fear, uncertainty. He wasn't lying, but he didn't know the full picture either.
"We don't know," Eryndor admitted. "We weren't ordered to approach her at first. Then, weeks ago, a new transmission came. Orders changed. We were told to find a way to get close to Myrra. No explanation, we usually don't get any."
Ian's mind raced. This confirmed his suspicion, someone higher up in the Quiet Testament had taken an interest in Myrra recently. The question was why. What had changed?
His voice grew colder. "And what about your servant?"
Eryndor hesitated. "We don't know much… except that he was called a failed product. He was always like that. Mostly just followed Enira's orders, never questioned anything." His fingers twitched involuntarily. "We never really thought much about him. He was just… there, doing what he was told."
Ian narrowed his eyes. If the Quiet Testament had called him a failed product, that meant there were… successful ones. Were they referring to the humanoid things he fought in Efsagroth or something else entirely.
He took a slow breath, pushing the thought aside. He had what he needed for now.
Ian turned away, his voice steady. "Continue doing what you were doing, but before sending any information back, I will screen it. You will also find out why Myrra is their target and report back to me." His eyes flickered to the cave's entrance. "Now leave. Make a reason for your servant's disappearance."
Eryndor and Enira didn't respond. They simply nodded, turned, and walked into the night.
As they moved through the dense forest, the moonlight barely filtered through the thick canopy above. The silence between them stretched, only broken by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of insects.
Eryndor exhaled sharply, his hands clenched into fists. "This is my fault," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I should've been more careful."
Enira shot him a glare, stepping over a thick root. "Oh, now you decide to grow a conscience?" Her tone was sharp, laced with frustration.
She stopped walking "We were always puppets," she hissed. "The only difference is who's pulling the strings."
Eryndor turned away, his jaw tight. "Still… I got you into this."
Enira scoffed. "No, you didn't. I was put here, same as you. Don't act like you had a choice in this." She sighed, rubbing her temple. "Besides… What's done is done. No point whining about it now."
Eryndor looked at her, guilt flashing across his face. "You should be angrier."
"I am angry," she snapped. "But right now, I'm more tired than angry. And we don't have time for you to wallow in self-pity."
She turned and walked ahead with her steps smooth towards their vehicle. The moonlight traced the curve of her hips, accentuating the way they swayed with each step, a slow, tantalizing rhythm that seemed almost unconscious. The faint rustle of her clothes, the way her silhouette shifted against the shadows, made it impossible to look away. Eryndor lingered for a moment, his breath unsteady, before forcing himself to follow, the weight of their situation pressing down on him even as his gaze remained drawn to her.
Back home, Ian brought the containment sphere with the parasite along with him, exhaling deeply. This was the best outcome he could've hoped for. At least for now.
Keeping Enira's identity hidden from Myrra was an easy choice. They had already gotten close, and Myrra had started calling Enira "sister", revealing the truth right now would only shatter her peace of mind.
No, Myrra needed time to recover, to have some stability. And now that Enira was under his control, there was no immediate threat. He would tell Myrra the truth… eventually.
For now, he just had to wait for Enira and Eryndor's findings.
With that thought, he finally let sleep take him.
The next day followed the usual routine, training, studies, and the mundane motions of daily life. But when night fell, Ian made his way to Enira and Eryndor's home, this time with purpose.
Their house was modest, located in a quieter part of the city. It was well-kept but impersonal, more of a stationed outpost than a true home. The walls were lined with unmarked books and scrolls, research notes, and a few artifacts, traces of their supposed work as archaeologists. But Ian knew better.
Eryndor and Enira were already waiting when he arrived. They said nothing as they stepped aside, allowing him entry. There was no tension, no attempts to conceal anything, they knew resisting him was pointless.
Enira moved first, gesturing to a neatly stacked pile. "Everything we have is here."
Ian's gaze swept over the materials laid out before him. There wasn't much, nothing that directly revealed The Quiet Testament's inner workings, but there were still valuable leads.
A collection of records detailing their past assignments, encoded but not beyond deciphering. Correspondence logs, fragments of past interactions, revealing glimpses of the people they had reported to. Names were rare, but patterns were there. Certain figures appeared repeatedly, individuals whose influence extended beyond mere field operatives.
A list of locations marked with vague annotations, potential meeting points, observation zones.
And then, there was something else.
Enira handed him a small device, they used for receiving orders, an obsidian shard veined with pulsing silver runes. It was cold to the touch, unnaturally so, as if it drank the warmth from his fingers. Faint whispers echoed from within, like distant voices trapped beneath layers of reality.
Ian took it, weighing it in his palm.
"This is all you have?" he asked.
Eryndor exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes"
Ian studied them both, then the device. They were useful. Controlled. And for now, that was enough.
He returned the shard to Enira. "Keep listening. Anything comes through, I hear it first." Then, without another word, he turned to leave.
Over the following week, the interactions between Myrra and Enira continued to grow, this time more naturally, without the subtle manipulations that had colored their earlier exchanges.
Ian had been keeping a close eye on Enira. At first, her approach had been slightly unnatural, but she was a professional. She adapted quickly, adjusting her mannerisms until they blended seamlessly.
And then, the results arrived.
There was little suspense, Ian's scores were nearly perfect, and Myrra had performed exceptionally well. Their options were vast, but now came the decision of which academy to attend.
Idilia was home to hundreds of academies, each with its own specialties and prestige. Ian, with his results and standing, had the freedom to enroll in any of them. Myrra, while also highly qualified, was restricted only from the absolute top few, though this hardly mattered. Naturally, they would attend the same academy.
The top institutions were spread across the 14 territories of Idilia, each major region boasting its own elite academy, with an additional one at the federal capital, making a total of 15.
After careful consideration, Ian set his sights on Rulmose Institute.
Located near the capital city of Ial Themar, in Onsebel, the very territory he currently resided in, it was a logical choice
There were several factors for it.
First, both Ian and Myrra were eligible for admission. Additionally, Ian had received a particularly generous fellowship from Rulmose Institute, which included research resources, priority access to restricted materials, and even a personal stipend.
For Ian, this was a huge advantage. He had been earning his own money, and while the academy itself was tuition-free, it wasn't entirely without costs. Each student was granted a limited number of free credits per semester, but beyond that, everything else - books, materials, housing, food - required money. Having a generous fellowship would definitely make things easier.
Myrra, on the other hand, hadn't received the same offer, but that wasn't a concern. Her aunt and uncle were wealthy, and beyond that, her parents had left her a sizable inheritance. Financially, she was more than secure.
Second, its location. While Ian didn't particularly care, Myrra's aunt and uncle preferred that she stay relatively close. Rulmose, being in the same territory made it a convenient choice.
But the most important factor was Master Ordan's recommendation.
When Ian brought up the decision, Ordan gave a thoughtful nod. "Rulmose is an excellent choice, not just for its prestige, but for the people you'll meet there."
You mean the top talents?" Ian asked.
Ordan shook his head. "No. I meant the instructors and the researchers, they are the ones who truly matter. But for you, the most important among them is High Scholar Durlan… my teacher."
Ian's expression shifted. He had come across Durlan's name before. The title of High Scholar wasn't something granted simply through power, it was a recognition of expertise, awarded only to those who had significantly advanced their field. Like the title of Master, it required reaching a certain threshold of strength, in this case, at least the Third Order, but more importantly, it required recognition by the Council. A Master was already a distinguished individual, someone accomplished in their field, but a High Scholar stood beyond Master.
In Durlan's case, that field was Arcane Circuitry.
Ordan continued. "If you go to Rulmose, you'll have the chance to study under him."
Ian's thoughts turned. A direct opportunity to learn from a High Scholar wasn't something to ignore.
Ordan leaned back. "I'll be focused on my own breakthrough to the Second Order for a while. That means I won't be able to continue with our work. But at Rulmose, you can continue work under someone even more qualified to guide you."
Additionally Ian was also concerned about Myrra's safety, Master Ordan had assured him it wouldn't be an issue. "Rulmose isn't just an academy, it's a fortress. If anything, she'll be safer there than here," Ordan had said with certainty.
Plus, Ian had been carefully monitoring the communications between Enira and the Quiet Testament. So far, their interest seemed limited to observation rather than direct action. For now, they were only watching.
That settled it. With all factors considered, Rulmose was the obvious choice.
At home, Lura, Holone, and Vulre were gathered around a small table, completely engrossed in a game of UNO. Ian had created the cards and introduced them to the game, and now, with the thrill of something new, they were hooked. Lura smirked as she slammed down a Draw Four card, earning a groan from Vulre. Holone, ever the strategist, narrowed his eyes, already planning his next move.
Meanwhile, Ian and Myrra sat nearby, discussing their next step.
"So, Rulmose?" Myrra asked, tapping a finger against her chin. "Rhys and Reina already decided on it."
Ian nodded. "Yeah. It makes the most sense. Having someone we know there could be useful"
Vulre, half-listening while waiting for his turn, looked up. "Oh, my sister is at Rulmose."
Ian glanced at him. "Axilya?"
Vulre placed his card down, looking up casually. "Yeah, she's been there for a while. She can help you get settled, show you around and all that."
Myrra considered it, tapping a finger against the table. "That would definitely make things easier."
Ian exhaled, the choice feeling more and more certain. "Well, that just seals it then." He glanced at Myrra, a small nod passing between them. "Rulmose it is."