Chapter 28 - Chapter 28- In Search for Evidence

Morning light crept through the inn's curtains, thin and quiet. The smell of bread and steam from the tea filled the air as the three of them sat together in silence. The moment Helios finished eating, his thoughts went straight to one thing, Belanor. "The first step is evidence," Helios muttered, staring at his half-empty cup. "But where do we even start looking for it?" Halo leaned back, fingers running along his chin in thought. "Well… the library's a safe bet. Or maybe talk to the locals, see what they've heard about Belanor's dealings." Bow frowned. "That's risky. You'd stand out like a broken sword if you start poking around with his name. People here worship him. I'd stick to the library… or just listen in on what people say when they don't think anyone's paying attention." Helios nodded. "Fair point." He reached into his coat and pulled out the black book they had found in the cathedral's hidden chamber. The air in the room shifted as he flipped through its worn pages. "I keep seeing this…" he said, pointing at the strange sketch scattered across several sections. "A chalice. Same symbol that's carved into the front cover." Bow leaned over. "That's creepy as hell." Helios's gaze hardened. "Whatever this means, it's important. I'll look for records or stories about chalices in the library. Religious ones. Ritual ones. Anything." Bow stood, stretching his arms. "Alright. I'll go out and listen around. Taverns, markets, the usual gossip trails." Halo exhaled slowly, eyes still on the ceiling. "Then I'll look into Belanor's campaign, who funds him, who protects him, what kind of power he actually holds." Helios looked between them, a faint grin tugging at the edge of his lips. "Good. Let's move carefully. The wrong question in the wrong ear could have every zealot in this city on us." The three of them stood, their paths splitting once more. Outside, the bells of Sanctus tolled softly through the morning mist, calm, pure, and deceitful. As Helios walked through the streets of Sanctus toward the library, an uneasy feeling crept up his spine, like unseen eyes were fixed on him. He glanced around, but the crowd looked normal, so he brushed it off and picked up his pace. When he finally reached the library, he gave a false name at the counter, keeping his tone casual. The air inside was calm, filled with the faint scent of parchment and dust. He moved between the aisles, eyes scanning the shelves in the History and Storytale sections, pulling out any book that looked like it might mention a chalice. The moment Helios sat down, he buried himself in book after book, devouring the history and legends of the world. Each page filled his mind with fragments of forgotten lore, until finally, he struck gold. One passage stood out among the rest: "During the creation of this world, there were two gods. One sought to love, nurture, and grow this world, while the other desired to unmake it, to erase all that existed. When their clash reached its end, the god of destruction fell and was cast into his own realm, which mortals now call Hell. Out of spite and envy, he began to forge weapons, relics, and charms, sending them into the mortal plane to sow ruin in his stead. Among them were the Chalice of Bedlam, the Cry of Chronos, and the Dementis Regalia." Helios quickly scribbled the passage down onto parchment, eyes wide with realization. As he continued his research, he caught a faint whiff of something, smoke. He looked around. The scent thickened, burning his eyes until tears welled up. A strange dizziness began to claw at his mind. His vision blurred, the letters in the books twisting into incomprehensible shapes. Then everything went dark. When Helios blinked awake, the world tasted like iron and cold stone. He was on his knees, ankles bound to iron rings bolted into the wall. The cell was a low, damp hollow under the city; moonlight leaked through a thin grate and painted bars across his face. A figure stepped forward from the shadow, slow and deliberate. The clink of leather sounded loud in the hush. The stranger drew off a hood, she was a woman, coiled and patient, a leather bag clenched in one hand. Her smile was all teeth. "Kiddo," she said, voice syrup-smooth, "care to explain why you were caught pawing through Cardinal Belanor's property? That book is…special. The Cardinal is not pleased it's missing." She waved the black volume like a prize. "Tell me why, and I'll let you go. I won't sing to him about you. Sounds fair, doesn't it?" Helios watched her without struggle. He knew the metal at his wrists; he knew the smell of the place. He let the silence stretch until it became a weight. "What I find funny," he said finally, voice low, "is watching a woman play with men's very dangerous toys." He kept his face steady. "You should be careful. I'd hate to see that pretty face of yours marred." For a beat the smile held, then it snapped. She flung a small leather pouch that burst at his nose, smelling salts, sharp and hot. Helios flinched as the scent hit him; his head swam. Before he could steady, the woman raised a short iron rod and slammed it down against his shin. Pain lanced up his leg. "How's that for testing your toughness?" she said, amused. "That little powder sharpens the hurt. Tell me, or I put you back under until you sing." Helios let out a breath that fogged the moonlight. No tremor, no pleading. He met her eyes and the look he returned was colder than the cell stone. "You listen," he said. "Take these shackles off me and tell me everything you know about Belanor, his men, his movements, his ledger of purchases, or I will break your legs and make you regret being born." For a fraction of a second something in the woman's posture changed, just a twitch at her jaw, the flutter of a swallow. Her smirk wavered. Then she laughed, sharp and rough, like someone breaking a shell. "You're a bold little thing," she said. She leaned close, breath warm against his face. "Most priests' boys don't threaten me. They beg." Helios let the cold burn in his chest. "I'm not a priest's boy." The woman straightened, the mask of amusement sliding back into place. "Fine," she said. "But threats don't get you answers, child. Information does. Start talking. How did you get the book? Who sent you? And, more importantly, who sent you to steal from Belanor?" Helios's laugh was low and hard. "Well first off," he shoved with everything in him, ripped the stone free from the wall and as it was still connected to his chains he swung it like a flail. The woman flew back and slammed against the far wall. The sound was ugly, the kind of impact that emptied lungs; she crumpled, face down, screaming. For a heartbeat Helios simply stood over her, chest heaving, eyes cold as flint. Then he wrenched the anchors from his wrists, metal shrieking as the chains split like old rope. The shackles fell away, clattering to the floor. He hauled the woman upright by her collar and fixed her with a stare that left no room for games. She whimpered, clutching her jaw; the side of her face was swollen, blood gushing out of her head as well as it streaking the corner of her mouth. Helios's voice was quiet and quiet it made the cell fill with the promise of worse. "Tell me everything you know about Cardinal Belanor," he said. "Names. Routes. Where they hold people. Now." For a long second she didn't speak. Then terror sharpened her voice. "I… I work for the ledgers. I move papers, I collect payments, I keep lists," she stammered. "Belanor, he pays well. He tells us to look for numbers and seals. Most nights shipments leave from the old granary east of the river. There's a wagon yard, three wagons, guarded by men with Belanor's sigil. They move at dusk under a priest's escort. The prisoners… they go beneath Sanctus. Tunnels. Old storage caverns under the market. That's all I know, I swear…" Helios tightened his grip on her collar until she coughed, a wet sound. "Where exactly… names, marks, times." His tone left no mercy. "T-there's a mark on the right wheel hub, three scratches, like a chalice," she gasped. "They leave at the second bell after dusk. The driver's name is Marrek. There's a ledger kept at the cathedral, room under the east transept. The list you saw… it's pulled from ledgers there. Please. I only handle papers. I never see… I never see where they… please." Her voice broke; she was shaking. Helios let go and stepped back. He looked at Bow and Halo in the doorway, their faces were pale, but resolute. "Good," he said. "You just bought lives. You'll lead us to Marrek tonight. If I ever hear that you lied, if one person gets moved because of you, I will make sure you will stay disabled." She nodded frantically, tears marking clean tracks through the dust on her cheeks. "The granary's east of the river, beyond the salt warehouses. If you go tonight, you'll find the wagons. Marrek drinks behind the mill at dusk. He's careless when he drinks." Her breath came quick and shallow; she was spent. Helios pushed her down until she slumped against a wall. He took the black book from her limp grip and closed it, the silver chalice on its cover catching the pale light. "We move at dusk," he said simply. "Get your men ready." He turned to Bow and Halo. "Tonight we follow Marrek. We find where they hide the rest. We bring them out." Outside the cell the city slept, but Helios felt the night tighten around them like a drawn bow. This time the hunt had a name, a place, a plan, and a time. The pieces were no longer guesses; they had tracks to follow.