The church loomed ahead, its silhouette sharp against the dark sky. Its doors were shut tight—too tight for this hour. Von hesitated for only a moment before pushing one open with a forceful shove. The creak echoed loudly in the stillness.
Inside, it was empty. The rows of pews stood undisturbed under faint shafts of moonlight spilling through narrow windows.
"Something's not right," Von muttered under his breath.
Vel swallowed hard as they moved further inside, their footsteps muffled by worn rugs covering the stone floor. At the back of the church was a small door leading to private quarters—a room designated for someone who stayed overnight to tend to emergencies or maintain watch over the sacred space.
Von knocked on it sharply before pushing it open when no answer came. Inside sat a woman in modest robes, scribbling notes by candlelight.
She looked up, startled by their sudden entrance. "What is it? Visitors should not be here this hour."
"Landre," Von said curtly, his voice steady but firm. "Did she come here today?"
The woman shook her head slowly, confusion knitting her brow. "No... I haven't seen her all day."
Von's jaw clenched, neck muscles taut. Vel felt his father's unease pressing down on him like a suffocating weight.
"She's been gone since morning," Von said slowly, his words heavy. His gaze locked on the woman, sharp enough to cut through steel. "She always comes back before evening."
The woman in robes hesitated, her fingers gripping the quill she held as if anchoring herself. "I... I'm sorry. I truly haven't seen her."
Vel's stomach churned as he stepped closer, his voice quieter but urgent. "Lan-neechan always works with someone here... a young acolyte. Do you know who he is?"
Her expression softened with recognition. "You must mean Trinon," she said after a brief pause. "He often assists her. A diligent young man."
Von straightened, crossing his arms as he loomed over her desk like a shadow. "Then where is this Trinon now? Can we find him?"
She frowned faintly and shook her head apologetically. "He isn't here at night—only during the day. If you return tomorrow morning, I'm sure you can speak with him then."
Vel's stomach twisted. That wasn't good enough.
"Morning is too late," Von growled, barely masking the irritation simmering in his tone. "Where does he live?"
The woman faltered under Von's intensity but eventually shook her head again, more firmly this time. "We don't keep records of where our acolytes reside unless they choose to share that information themselves." She looked almost regretful as she added softly, "I wish I could help more."
Vel bit down on the inside of his cheek until it hurt, trying to think through the panic clawing at him. His mind spun with possibilities—where could Landre have gone? Why hadn't she come back?
Von didn't reply immediately; instead, he exhaled sharply through flared nostrils before turning on his heel toward the door.
Vel followed without a word, struggling to keep up with Von's long strides as they exited into the cold night air once more.
Von's boots struck the cobblestones purposefully as Vel struggled to match his father's pace, his shorter legs working overtime.
As they passed under the dim glow of a lamp post, a figure emerged from the shadows. The man wore the familiar robes of the church, their folds swaying lightly with his movements. His hood obscured most of his face, casting an uneven shadow that flickered with the lamplight.
"Excuse me," the man said softly, his voice low and steady, carrying an almost unnatural calm.
Von stopped abruptly, placing a protective arm in front of Vel without looking at him. His eyes narrowed as he studied the figure.
"Who are you?"
The man tilted his head slightly, a polite gesture that didn't quite match the unsettling air about him. "An acolyte," he answered simply, gesturing faintly toward the church behind them. "I overheard your concern for someone... Landre, was it?"
Vel felt a spark of hope amidst his unease. He stepped out from behind Von's arm but kept close. "Do you know where Lan-neechan is?"
The man nodded slowly, almost deliberately. "I believe I do." He paused just long enough for Vel's heart to lurch before continuing. "I saw her earlier today... leaving Elnor's outskirts with Trinon."
Von stiffened at the mention of Trinon's name but didn't interrupt.
"They were collecting herbs," the acolyte explained evenly. "For medicinal purposes. A specific variety grows only beyond the town's edge—rare and delicate." He lifted one hand from beneath his robe to gesture vaguely toward Elnor's eastern side.
Vel felt Von shift beside him, tension radiating from his towering frame like heat from smoldering coals.
"If you're worried," the man added smoothly, folding both hands neatly in front of him again, "I can show you where they likely went. It isn't far... if you follow me."
Von studied him with prolonged silence. Vel glanced between them anxiously but held his tongue, knowing better than to interrupt Von's grave deliberation.
Von placed a firm hand on Vel's shoulder, his voice low but resolute. "Vel, head back to the camp. Wait there with your mother. It's too dangerous for you out here at night."
Vel's stomach twisted in protest, his mouth opening before he could stop himself. "But—"
Von's grip tightened ever so slightly, his eyes locking onto Vel's with an intensity that brooked no argument. "No 'buts.' I'll find Landre and bring her back. Stay where it's safe."
Vel swallowed hard. His father's tone left no room for argument. Reluctantly, he nodded. "Okay… I'll go."
Satisfied, Von gave a short nod before turning to the acolyte. "Lead the way," he commanded.
The two figures disappeared into the darkness.
Vel lingered, the cold air gnawing at his skin. Something felt… off. The acolyte had appeared too conveniently, his demeanor too composed. And more than that—
Vel's breath caught.
Hadn't the church woman said Landre never arrived today?
Vel clenched his fists at his sides, frustration bubbling up alongside that nagging sense of wrongness. He couldn't shake it—something about the whole encounter didn't sit right with him.
Vel paced back and forth in the shadowy street, his mind racing. "I need help," he thought, unable to shake the growing dread in his chest. Going back to camp felt wrong—not when his father could be walking into danger.
His feet carried him toward the orphanage before his mind fully formed the plan. Celia and Kein might know something, might have seen something. More eyes and ears could make the difference.
The orphanage's common room still glowed with lamplight when he arrived. Celia sat near the window, her dark hair falling forward as she read.
"Celia!" Vel called out in a harsh whisper.
She looked up, brow furrowing at his urgent tone. "Vel? What's wrong?"
He explained about Landre's disappearance and the suspicious acolyte, watching Celia's expression grow more concerned with each detail.
"We should get Kein," she said, standing up. "He runs errands all over town—he might have seen something."
They hurried through the quiet streets to Kein's home. After several knocks, he opened the door with bleary eyes and tousled hair.
"Do you know what time it is?" Kein grumbled.
"Have you seen Lan-neechan today?" Vel asked, cutting straight to the point.
Kein rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, actually. When I was getting supplies for Mom. She was near the market."
"Was there anyone with her? Maybe someone in church robes?" Vel pressed.
Kein's face scrunched in concentration. "Now that you mention it... there was someone like that. Standing in the alley by the market stalls."
"Show us," Vel said.
"We're coming with you," Celia insisted, her voice firm.
The three made their way to the empty market square, moonlight casting long shadows between abandoned stalls. A cold breeze cut through their clothes, making them shiver as they stood in the deserted space.
Celia shifted beside him, her voice barely above a whisper. "What should we do?"
"That church person must have led her through here," Vel said, piecing together the timeline in his mind. "But they wouldn't do anything in the open square—too many witnesses, even during quiet hours. The guards patrol here regularly."
He gestured toward the dark mouth of an alley between two buildings. "They'd need somewhere more private. Like there."
Kein crossed his arms, frowning at the shadowy passage. "That's where I saw them earlier."
"We should check it out," Vel said, already moving toward the alley. "Let's spread out and look for anything unusual—signs of struggle, dropped items, disturbed ground. Anything that might tell us they were here."
"What if we find something?" Celia asked, her eyes sharp with determination despite the fear in her voice.
"Then we'll know we're on the right track," Vel replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "We just need to be careful and quiet."
They split up, each taking a different section of the alley to search. Vel's hands trembled slightly as he moved forward, eyes straining in the darkness for any clue that might lead him to his sister.
The darkness made searching difficult. Vel squinted as he ran his fingers along the rough wall, feeling for any irregularities or signs of disturbance. The occasional shuffling of his companions' feet echoed softly through the alley as they conducted their own searches.
Minutes ticked by with nothing to show for their efforts. Vel's shoulders slumped as he made his way back to where Celia waited.
She shook her head before he could ask. "Nothing here."
Doubt crept into Vel's mind. Maybe he was overthinking everything. The acolyte could have been genuine, and Von might walk through the door any minute with Landre in tow, both of them wondering why he'd gotten so worked up. Perhaps he was letting his fears run wild, seeing threats where none existed.
"Maybe we should head back," he muttered, more to himself than Celia. At least if he proved himself wrong, he could stop this spiral of worry—
"Vel! Celia! Come here!" Kein's urgent whisper cut through the silence.
They hurried over to where Kein crouched between two wooden barrels. He pointed underneath them, where something caught the faint moonlight.
Vel's breath caught in his throat. There, partially hidden by shadow, lay a wooden amulet—the same one Landre had carved using his dagger, leaving its blade chipped.
His heart plummeted. The amulet never left Landre's neck. She'd sooner lose a limb than willingly part with it.
Vel bit back a cry of frustration. Of course something was wrong. Of course his instincts had been right. Murphy's Law struck again—anything that could go wrong, would go wrong.
Vel's fingers trembled as he lifted the wooden amulet from the ground. The familiar weight settled in his palm. The surface remained smooth, unmarred by violence or struggle.
He turned it over carefully, examining every detail. The cord that usually held it around Landre's neck was still firmly attached, not broken or torn. No signs of force or damage anywhere on the piece.
"Is that..." Celia leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Lan-neechan's amulet," Vel confirmed, running his thumb across the simple design. "But something's not right."
Kein peered at it. "What do you mean? It looks fine to me."
"Exactly." Vel held it up in the dim light. "If someone tried to take it from her, there'd be marks. Scratches. A broken cord. But there's nothing." His mind raced as the pieces clicked together. "She dropped it here on purpose."
Celia's eyes widened with understanding. "Like a trail marker?"
Vel nodded, clutching the amulet tightly. "She knew she was in trouble, but she couldn't let them know she was leaving signs." His sister was clever—she'd found a way to signal for help without alerting her captors. "She wanted us to find this."
Celia shifted uneasily, her fingers twisting the hem of her sleeve. "Should we alert the guards?"
Vel shook his head, pocketing the amulet. "At this hour? Three kids with nothing but guesses and theories?" He pictured the guards' dismissive faces, precious time wasted trying to convince them. "They'd send us straight home."
"Then what do we do?" Kein asked, his earlier drowsiness replaced by determination.
"I need to bring this to my father," Vel said, patting the pocket containing Landre's amulet. "He has the authority to organize a proper search." He looked between his friends, guilt twisting in his stomach at dragging them out so late. "You should both head back before anyone notices you're gone."
Celia opened her mouth to protest, but Vel cut her off gently. "Please. You've helped more than enough already."
One thing burned clear in Vel's mind as he watched his friends reluctantly nod – Landre hadn't simply wandered off or lost track of time. This was a kidnapping, carefully planned and executed.
"Thank you," he said, meaning it with every fiber of his being. "Both of you. I couldn't have found this without your help."
Kein clasped his shoulder. "Just find her."
"We will," Vel promised, turning away from his friends and hurrying back toward the refugee camp, the wooden amulet a constant reminder of urgency against his side.