Turning my head slowly, I observed Niryn once again. The pale light filtering through the bioluminescent mushrooms cast dancing shadows over her expressionless face.She seems... quite devoted to me, apparently. But I'm not sure I can trust her completely. So, for now, I'll just take advantage of that—extract as much information as I can, and be careful with what I do or say around her.
I let out a discreet sigh and allowed my voice to come out calm, almost bored."Niryn... tell me, how does the power hierarchy of this place work?"
She moved immediately, as if she'd been expecting the question. She gave a slight bow, her eyes fixed on mine with that hypnotic intensity, and began to speak in a reverent, almost trance-like tone:"In this temple, my lord, everything follows the sacred order of the Nodule. The sect is divided into three great circles—living spirals intertwined to keep the flesh bound to the doctrine."
She paused subtly, as if reciting an ancient psalm."At the top, above all, is the High Circle. They are the direct interpreters of the Nodule's will. Each one represents an aspect of Perfection."
Her eyes gleamed slightly as she spoke their names, as if she were talking about gods."Father Elarion guides the spirit. He translates the messages of the Nodule and conducts the greater rituals. He sees what is not visible, hears what is not spoken.""Matriarch Vessha guards the bodies and the seeds. She oversees the gestations, the births, the sacrifices, and the preservation of pure lineages.""And finally, the Blind Surgeon molds the flesh. He is the conductor of mutations and grafts. No fusion with the Nodule occurs without his touch."
Then she continued, without me having to ask."Beneath them is the Circle of Research. Mages, alchemists, parasitologists. They study the Nodule, catalog its manifestations, cultivate the parasites, and create new forms of symbiosis. Some are... too corrupted to live among others. But their minds are precious."
Then her voice grew slightly rougher, as if she disliked the next group."The last ring is that of the Acolytes. They are in charge of doctrine, discipline, and the novices. They preach, punish, clean the bodies. They are zealous... and dangerous."
Another pause. Soft. Ritualistic."Beyond them are the servants and offerings. Many are nothing more than tools. But some, like me, are chosen and marked to serve directly those blessed by the Nodule."
She knelt on the floor as she said this, as if to remind me of her role—and mine."This is the structure, my lord. All lives for the Nodule. All rots so that something more beautiful may bloom."
Listening to everything she said, I fell into thought.Hmm... this seems like a very strict hierarchy. Too rigid. I'd better take it slow. I'll start by asking about the lower ranks… and work my way up, see how far she's able—or willing—to go.
I shifted slightly in bed, keeping a neutral expression. My tone came out naturally, but direct:"Well... then explain the Acolytes to me in more detail."
Niryn tilted her head slightly, as if she appreciated the question. Her eyes shimmered with a strange admiration as she spoke:"The Acolytes, my lord, are the living pillars of the temple. Fanatics who have given not only their bodies, but also their minds to the Nodule. They breathe the dogmas. They feed on faith. Many have already crossed the threshold of symbiosis... but only in controlled doses, not enough to reach true fusion. Still, they live to serve."
She stood up, walking slowly around the bed, her garments dragging softly across the stone floor. Her voice echoed with a catechetical tone."They are the ones who keep order in the temple. They perform the minor rituals, tend to the chambers, the offerings… and safeguard the silence of the halls. They're also responsible for teaching the new youths — whether captured or willingly given. They indoctrinate with words — and punishments, when necessary."
She paused briefly. Her eyes found mine again, more serious now."They punish with zeal. With fervor. Not out of cruelty, but out of love. After all, as the dogmas say: pain is the language of the Nodule."
She knelt by the bed, placing her hands on her knees like a disciple awaiting approval."There are also those who specialize in tending to bodies — living or dead. They clean, cut, offer, and harvest everything that may be useful. Some of the chambers where they work are called Blooming Rooms, because in there, flesh ceases to be impure… and becomes fertile soil."
The way she spoke... there was no hesitation, no trace of doubt. Only conviction, as if describing something sacred."Lastly, the Acolytes have limited freedom, but they are respected. They are the living flesh of the sect. Its eyes, its hands. Many were former servants like me, promoted after years of devotion and sacrifice."
She bowed her head once more."And sometimes, they are the ones who choose who lives… and who rots."
I frowned as she spoke. The Acolytes seemed to be one of the pillars of the sect... and also one of the main problems I might have to deal with in the future.Fanatics... punitive... indoctrinators... They could be serious trouble. Best to avoid them — or treat them with extreme caution.
But then, something came to mind.During the explanation, Niryn had revealed something subtle — a slight stiffness, almost imperceptible, when she spoke about them. Her eyes, though disciplined, seemed to lose a bit of their luster when certain functions were mentioned. That intrigued me.She doesn't like them…?
I decided to test it. I turned slightly toward her and asked in a more casual tone:"Well... tell me, Niryn. Do you like that group?"
She took a moment. A strange silence followed, as if the question had opened a door that had long been locked. Her eyes lowered for a moment. Her fingers interlaced on her lap, and behind that unshakable calm, something twisted inside her.
When she finally answered, her voice maintained the same respectful and serene tone, but something was different… like a faint crack in a porcelain mask."The Acolytes... fulfill their role, my lord. They are necessary. Without them, the temple would fall into disarray."
She paused. Her eyes still didn't meet mine."But... no, I don't like them."
Those words seemed to cost far more than they appeared to."When I was younger… long before I was assigned as your servant… I was prepared to become a lesser receptacle. During that preparation, I failed in one of the rituals. A small mistake. A hesitation."
She slowly raised her gaze, but her eyes seemed distant, lost somewhere between now and the past."The Acolytes administered the punishment. They are... meticulous."
My throat went dry, but I said nothing."Since then, I learned to control my mind. To keep my body still. To obey without hesitation. To accept pain as a language. That allowed me to survive… and serve."
Her eyes focused on me again, and now there was something more in them. Not fear. Not anger.But devotion."But now, my lord... I belong to you. And if the Acolytes cause you any discomfort… I will find a way to be useful."
She bowed deeply, almost to the floor, in reverence.
I simply stared at her in silence, processing everything. It was the first time I saw something truly… human in Niryn.And that made everything even more disturbing.
The silence between us stretched for a few seconds. I watched Niryn more closely now. That absolute devotion gave me chills… but also gave me leverage.She seems to have gone through hell… maybe even worse than mine. But she's clearly bound to the idea that I'm something sacred. That's useful. Very useful.
I tried to keep my face neutral, even as my mind churned with strategy."I see..." I murmured, as if letting the topic go, and then shifted the subject. "Now, tell me about the Research Circle. Who are they exactly? What do they do?"
Niryn straightened her posture, as if the question had pulled her back into the present."The Research Circle," she began, in a steadier tone now, "is made up of mages, alchemists, and scholars. They are tasked with exploring, understanding, and enhancing the properties of the Nodule. They study its biology, its magical behavior, its fusion capabilities, and the limits of symbiosis."
As she spoke, her eyes seemed to drift through complex memories."They're not like the Acolytes. They're not fanatics. They're… cold. Methodical. Some of them even seem indifferent to the doctrine. But that makes them even more dangerous."
"Why?" I asked, curious.
"Because they're not afraid to fail," she replied. "And they feel no guilt when they do. To them, every death is just another data point in an experiment."
She paused before continuing."The Circle is divided into branches. Some specialize in direct fusion with the Nodule, like Alan's branch — the scientist who oversaw your integration. Others work with cultivation parasites, alternative forms of spread, biological weapons… mutations."
Her voice lowered slightly as she went on."They're also the ones who control the temple's records. The documentation of every experiment. Every death. Every success. Their members live in restricted sectors, away from the others. Many don't even sleep. Some say that a few of them… are no longer human."
Fantastic. Mad scientists with access to the Nodule, control over mutations, and zero empathy. This place just keeps getting better.
"Do they obey the High Circle?" I asked.
"Yes… officially. But in practice, they have some autonomy. As long as they don't openly challenge the sect's dogmas, they can conduct almost any kind of experiment."
She then looked straight into my eyes."You'll have to deal with them, my lord. Alan, especially. Now that you are the Host, the Research Circle will be watching you… very closely."
I let out a soft sigh and ran a hand over my face.I don't like this. Not one bit.