The sun cast a pale light over Arkwright as Elias stirred from restless sleep. His modest apartment was silent, save for the faint creak of the wooden floorboards beneath his bed. Groaning, he swung his legs over the side and rubbed the remnants of uneasy dreams from his eyes.
The whispers were gone, at least for now.
Elias shuffled to the kitchen, his bare feet padding softly across the floor. His apartment was as unremarkable as the man who called it home—simple furniture, books stacked haphazardly on the shelves, and a desk cluttered with papers and case files.
He prepared a humble breakfast: toast, a boiled egg, and coffee brewed just strong enough to wake him. As he sat at the table, his thoughts returned to the events of the previous night.
---
The docks had been chaos—a battle against Veilshards and Syndicate operatives that left more questions than answers. But it was the conversation with Veylan afterward that weighed on him now.
"You've already seen what's out there, Elias," Veylan had said, his tone measured but firm. "You have a choice: remain an outsider and risk being consumed by forces you don't understand, or let us guide you. Train you. Prepare you."
Elias had hesitated, unsure whether the offer was an opportunity or a trap. But the truth was clear—he was already in too deep. Refusing meant turning his back on answers about the Veil, the Syndicate, and his father's mysterious past.
In the end, he had agreed.
Veylan's terms had been straightforward: Elias could continue his work as a private investigator when not actively engaged in Lantern duties. His schedule would include training and lessons about the mystical world, along with a modest salary and the cover of being a registered police officer.
"Welcome to the Sanctified Lanterns," Veylan had said, sealing the arrangement.
---
Elias finished his coffee, grabbed his coat and hat, and left his apartment. The streets of Arkwright were already alive with the hum of factory machinery and the chatter of workers heading to their shifts. He navigated the familiar paths to the Draycott home, the weight of his promise to Marian pressing on his mind.
The Draycott house was a modest, weathered building squeezed between identical rows. The paint was peeling, and the steps creaked as Elias climbed to the door. He knocked, and moments later, Marian answered.
"Mr. Thorne," she said, her voice both hopeful and anxious. "Please, come in."
Inside, the home was as humble as its exterior. The faint scent of laundry soap lingered in the air, and a pile of neatly folded clothes sat on the table. Marian's three daughters were absent, likely at school or running errands.
Elias removed his hat and sat across from Marian, who offered him a cup of tea.
"I wanted to give you an update on your husband's case," he began, choosing his words carefully.
Marian leaned forward, her hands clasped tightly. "Have you found anything? Is he... is he still alive?"
Elias nodded. "I hope so. But things have taken a turn. Marcus Harrison, the factory owner, has disappeared. His factory has been shut down, and the police have declared him a wanted criminal."
Marian's face paled. "What does that mean for my husband? For the others who worked there?"
Elias took a deep breath. "The police have been questioning factory workers and their families, including yours, to gather information. It's standard procedure in a case like this, but I understand how unsettling it must be."
Marian's gaze dropped to the table. "It's more than unsettling, Mr. Thorne. My husband will be unemployed even if he comes back. And what about our daughters? How will we manage without his income?"
Her voice cracked, and Elias could see the weight of her fears etched in her features.
Moved by her desperation, Elias leaned forward, his voice calm but firm. "I have an idea that might help, Mrs. Draycott. It's not a perfect solution, but it could give you some stability."
Marian looked up, her expression wary but curious.
"I'm offering you a job," Elias said. "I could use someone to help organize my office—answer calls, file paperwork, keep track of appointments. It's not glamorous, but it's honest work. And it'll give you a chance to earn while things settle."
Marian's eyes widened. "Mr. Thorne, I don't know what to say... I don't even know if I'm qualified for something like that."
"You're running a household and a laundromat," Elias replied with a faint smile. "I'd say you're more than qualified. Consider it a way to pay me back for the investigation."
Marian hesitated, her hands trembling slightly. "I'll need some time to think about it."
"Of course," Elias said. "Take all the time you need. But know that the offer stands."
---
Leaving the Draycott home, Elias felt a mix of satisfaction and unease. He had done what he could for Marian, but the larger questions of her husband's fate and the Syndicate's plans lingered.
The streets of Arkwright seemed darker as he made his way to the Lanterns' base. The industrial sprawl of factories and railways loomed like giants, their shadows long and imposing.
When he arrived at the nondescript entrance to the Covenant's headquarters, Adrienne was waiting for him.
"Thorne," she greeted him, her tone as curt as ever. "Veylan's expecting you."
Elias followed her through the familiar stone corridors, the air growing cooler as they descended.
In the central chamber, High Inquisitor Veylan stood by a desk, a neatly prepared document in front of him.
"Mr. Thorne," Veylan said, his voice smooth. "Are you ready to make this official?"
Elias nodded, his steps steady as he approached the desk.
Veylan handed him a pen. "This contract formalizes your role with the Sanctified Lanterns. It outlines your responsibilities, your rights, and the support you'll receive. You'll be expected to adhere to our protocols, but you'll also retain your independence as a private investigator when not on active duty."
Elias read the document carefully before signing. As the ink dried, Veylan nodded approvingly.
"Welcome to the Sanctified Lanterns," he said.
Veylan gestured for Elias to sit as Adrienne joined them.
"The Syndicate has gone underground," Veylan explained. "We're analyzing the rune-inscribed shard Captain Lirian recovered at the docks. It may take time, but it could lead us to their next move."
Adrienne added, "In the meantime, your focus will be on training. You need to learn control, Thorne—over your abilities and over the Veil's influence."
"What kind of training?" Elias asked.
"Combat techniques, Veil lore, and strategies to mitigate Fraying," Adrienne replied. "We'll teach you to survive before you're thrown into the deep end again."
Elias nodded, the weight of his new role settling on him.
As Elias left the base, the city's chaos seemed distant, muted by the clarity of his thoughts. His life had shifted irrevocably, the lines between the mundane and the mystical blurring with each step.
He thought of Marian and her daughters, of the Syndicate's elusive plans, and of the whispers that haunted him. Despite the uncertainty, Elias resolved to face whatever came next, knowing there was no turning back.