Three months had drifted by since Elara and Kael first began their search for the mysterious old man.
They had combed through countless rumors, traversed hidden paths, and still, not even the slightest trace of him emerged.
Elara grew restless, her patience thinning, though she managed to channel some of that frustration into her training with Lucian.
In just three months, she had mastered two dark arts under his relentless guidance. The first, "Luck Stealing Art," was a delicate and dangerous art that allowed her to sucked fortune from others, draining their luck and enhancing her own.
Alongside that, she had also learned a handful of basic curses and spells, dark techniques meant to curse, confuse, or even manipulate those with weaker wills.
Yet, despite her progress, Lucian's restrictions were unwavering. He forbade her from using these arts without his explicit approval, reasoning that she needed complete control over them before putting them into real practice.
That morning, Elara grumbled under her breath as she prepared to meet Kael, her thoughts heavy with complaints about Lucian's strictness.
"'Master the art,' he says," she muttered as she fastened her cloak. "'Gain full control, don't use it recklessly'—as if I'm some incompetent novice," she scoffed, rolling her eyes at her own reflection in the small mirror by her bedside.
"I can drain luck like nobody's business! I mean, what's the worst that could happen? It's not like I'd accidentally turn someone into a frog." She paused, imagining the chaos that might ensue if she actually did manage to turn someone into an amphibian.
With a soft chuckle, she continued, "Not that some of these fools wouldn't deserve it."
She could almost hear Lucian's cool, infuriatingly calm voice in her mind, cautioning her to stay disciplined.
"Why does he have to be so annoyingly wise?" she grumbled again. "Would it kill him to let me have a little fun once in a while?"
Shaking her head, she draped her cloak over her shoulders, set her jaw, and made her way to the meeting point.
---
It was noon by the time Elara arrived at the food stall that had become their unofficial headquarters.
The place was modest, tucked into a lively corner of the city's marketplace, with the rich scent of simmering broth and roasted spices filling the air.
Crowds milled about, locals and travelers alike, bargaining and chatting animatedly, their voices creating a warm, chaotic symphony of city life.
As she scanned the crowd, she spotted Kael sitting at a secluded table in the back, a bottle of some unknown brew in hand, his gaze sharp as he watched her approaching near.
Elara settled across from him, casually casting a glance over her shoulder to ensure no eavesdroppers were nearby.
"Still no sign of the old man," Kael greeted her, his tone edged with frustration. "It's like he's a ghost."
Elara sighed, propping her elbows on the table. "We'll find him eventually. For now, we need to focus on… other developments."
Kael's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "You mean the refugees?"
"Exactly." She lowered her voice, casting a cautious glance around.
"Ever since two months ago, that flash flood forced hundreds of villagers to flee from their homes."
She paused, "And it was the Luminaries Temple, with their supposed 'benevolence,' that petitioned the County Governor to open the city gates. Now they're parading around as saints, claiming to 'shelter the needy.'"
"They do executed a good plan. See how those faithful and the non-devoted are practically worshiping them for it," Kael muttered, fingers drumming impatiently on the wooden table.
"It's almost too convenient. I wouldn't be surprised if the flood itself was orchestrated somehow."
Elara snorted. "They're no doubt savoring this newfound respect. It's perfect cover for their real agenda."
Tilting her head slightly,
"Have you seen how rampantly they've been recruiting? Practically every refugee is 'invited' to the temple for 'shelter.' But they're not just housing them—they're indoctrinating them. Every night, they gather in masses, chanting prayers, thanking the Divine Lord for 'saving' them."
Kael's lips pressed into a thin line. "So we're looking at a growing legion of loyal followers. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, all brainwashed to serve."
Elara nodded grimly, her gaze hardening. "I tried to manipulate some of them, you know, to see if I could sway them like I usually do with the devout. But it's like something's changed. They're… different."
Her voice trailed off, and her brows furrowed. "The high-ranking priests and priestesses have grown stronger. Their cultivation levels are elevated—strong enough to deflect my powers. It's unnerving."
Kael tilted his head, studying her with concern. "Could it be that they received some 'protection' from The Order?"
Elara glanced away, her expression darkening. "I don't know. But it's possible. That Holy Lord statue contains something powerful, something dark. It's almost like… they're feeding off those faith to fuel themselves, harvesting them for power."
Her hand clenched into a fist. "It would explain why my manipulation attempts are failing. They've become stronger, and more resistant."
Kael leaned in, his gaze sharp and calculating. "So, what's our plan?"
Elara sighed, rubbing her temples. "We cannot act rashly. We can't just storm the temple; we'd be crushed. But we need more information—on that Holy Lord statue, on their rituals,"
She looked straight to Kael and said slowly "especially on this mysterious 'Divine Order' they keep whispering about. They use the name to keep the faithful in line, but I'm starting to think it's nothing but a façade."
"You think the Divine Order doesn't exist?"
"Maybe," she replied thoughtfully. "Or maybe it's just a convenient way for them to scare the devout. It's like a ghost story—a name that carries fear but has no substance behind it."
Kael nodded slowly, his face clouded with doubt. "I've wondered that too. But…"
He hesitated, then continued, "There's something that keeps me on edge. You mentioned you once met an old man who claimed to have seen the Divine Order himself, right?"
Elara's gaze grew distant as she recalled the memory. "Yes. It was four years ago, in the Eastern Village. He looked like an ancient figure, rumored to be nearly two hundred years old."
Looking down to her hands on the table, she continued "A wanderer, dressed in ragged robes, but there was something about him—an unsettling air. He spoke about the Divine Order as if it were real, as if he had seen them firsthand. At the time, I thought he was mad."
Kael's brow furrowed, his fingers tapping against the table as he processed her words. "Do you think he might have the answers we're looking for?"
"Possibly," she said, her voice laced with frustration. "If only we could find him."
A heavy silence settled between them, each lost in thought, the bustling noise of the market fading into the background.
Elara's mind raced as she weighed their options, the implications of the temple's growing influence gnawing at her.
"I don't like this feeling, Kael," she finally murmured. "The way the temple is manipulating everyone… It feels like they're preparing for something big. Something we're not ready for."
Kael's gaze softened, a rare glimpse of warmth in his otherwise stoic demeanor. "We'll be ready. Whatever they're planning, we'll find a way to stop it."
She looked at him, her lips curving into a faint smile despite the darkness surrounding them. "I hope you're right."
As they fell silent once more, a renewed sense of purpose settled over them. They didn't have all the answers yet, but together, they were a formidable force.
And no matter how deeply the Luminaries Temple's darkness ran, Elara was determined to uncover the truth.