Chapter 27 - Chapter 27- Shadows of Sanctus

The room was quiet, save for the soft creak of the inn's old wood and the slow rhythm of Bow's snoring. Halo slept on his side, a faint whistle in his breathing, the scar along his jaw catching the moonlight that slipped through the window. Helios lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He'd been doing that for hours. No matter how much he tried to shut it out, Belanor's sermon kept echoing in his head, the same words, the same metaphors, the same wisdom the holy man had spoken. At first, he'd thought it was coincidence. But now, the idea gnawed at him, like a splinter buried too deep to ignore. Bow shifted in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent before letting out another snore. Helios turned his head slightly. Halo stirred, murmured something under his breath, then went still again. Helios exhaled quietly. How can they sleep so easily after hearing that man? He turned onto his side, eyes catching the faint outline of the cathedral outside the window, its great spire glimmering under the moonlight like a blade pointed toward the heavens. Something in his chest felt off. Not panic, not fear, just that quiet, twisting wrongness that comes before a storm. He remembered the holy man's words: "You wish for control, but perhaps the only true power is learning to let go." Helios swallowed hard. "Yeah," he whispered under his breath, "but letting go doesn't mean ignoring the truth." He sat up slowly, rubbing his temples. The moonlight brushed across his eyes, silver and sharp. His gut told him there was something beneath all that gold and scripture, something Belanor was hiding. Halo shifted again, half awake now. "You good, Helios?" he murmured, voice thick with sleep. Helios looked over. "Yeah. Just… can't sleep." Bow groaned from his side of the room. "You worry too much, man. Just close your eyes." Helios's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Maybe." He looked back toward the window one last time. The cathedral stood still, a silent giant watching the city dream. But to Helios, it felt like it was staring straight at him. "I need to know," he whispered to himself. Helios slipped out of the inn quietly, his boots landing soft against the stone. The air was cold, sharp, the kind that clung to your lungs. The streets of Sanctus were silent, only the flicker of weak lanterns and the pale wash of moonlight to guide him. He walked for a bit before hearing the faint creak of a door behind him. "Going somewhere, genius?" Bow's voice muttered through the dark. Helios turned, a little startled. Bow stood there barefoot, shirt half on, rubbing at one eye. "You think you can sneak out without me noticing?" Halo stepped out next, pulling his cloak over his shoulders. He still looked a bit pale but steadier than before. "If you're going somewhere this late, you're not going alone." Helios sighed, glancing at them both. "You two should be resting." Bow smirked. "And let you have all the fun? Nah. Plus, if you get caught, at least one of us can drag your stubborn body back." Helios gave a faint smirk. "Fine. But stay quiet." They moved together through the narrow streets, their shadows stretching long under the lantern glow. The city slept, windows dark, the air thick with the ghost of incense from Belanor's sermon earlier. It still hung in the air, faint but lingering, like the man's words themselves refused to die out. They passed beggars huddled beneath torn cloth, priests walking with candles in distant corridors, the echo of bells faintly ringing from somewhere deep in the city's heart. Halo looked up toward the spire of the cathedral towering over the rooftops. "You think we'll find something?" Helios didn't answer right away. His gut was twisting again, that same feeling from the sermon, that silent warning crawling beneath his skin. "I don't know," he said finally, his voice low. "But whatever it is Belanor's hiding… I'm done just wondering." Bow adjusted his cloak, scanning the alleys as they neared the outer cathedral walls. "Guess we're about to find out how holy this place really is." The moonlight spilled across the white stone as they approached the cathedral gates, Sanctus's grandest monument to faith. But tonight, it looked less like a house of gods and more like a sleeping beast. Helios stopped, looking up at it. "Stay close," he said softly. And with that, the three slipped into the silence, the city holding its breath as if it knew they were about to uncover something it wasn't meant to see. The side door creaks open just enough for them to slip through. The moment they step inside, the air changes, old, stale, and heavy with incense. Moonlight filters through the stained glass, scattering faint colors across the marble floor. The silence feels alive, pressing against their ears. Bow mutters under his breath, "Place gives me the chills." Halo smirks, but even he keeps his voice low. "Then stay close. Wouldn't want you getting lost in holy ground." Helios doesn't answer. His eyes are locked on the altar ahead, then the walls behind it, something feels off, wrong in a way words can't describe. He walks along the side aisle, eyes scanning every shadow until his hand brushes against a curtain that shouldn't move. A faint draft slips through. He pulls it aside, revealing a narrow staircase spiraling down. They exchange looks. No words needed. The descent is quiet but tense, the stone steps cold beneath their boots. The deeper they go, the more distant the cathedral above feels. At the bottom, the hallway stretches endlessly, torches flickering every few meters. Doors line both sides, some sealed, others cracked open just enough to show empty rooms, strange tools, and papers scattered across tables. It's like walking through the veins of the cathedral, a hidden maze no worshiper was ever meant to see. Then they hear it, voices. Faint. Male. Conversing in whispers, too far to make out clearly. Helios signals them to stop. They press against the wall as robed figures pass by at the far end of the hall, their lanterns casting long, wavering shadows. The group waits, holding their breath until the sound fades into the dark. Only then do they move again, turning corner after corner until Halo whispers, "We've been down here for half an hour. How deep does this go?" That's when they find it, a single room ahead, the door slightly open. Light spills out, steady and golden, cutting across the stone floor. Helios steps closer, heart beating slow but heavy. He peers through the gap, and freezes. The light spilling from under the door flickers, steady, rhythmic, like the heartbeat of the cathedral itself. Helios exchanges a look with Bow and Halo. Neither says a word. He pushes the door open just enough to slip through. The air inside feels thick, heavy with incense and something metallic underneath, something like blood. A single candle burns on a wide oak desk, surrounded by scrolls, ledgers, and open tomes written in old tongues. The shelves behind it are lined with more, some bound in leather so dark it almost looks red in the light. But at the center of it all lies a single book, black as pitch, marked with a silver chalice engraved deep into its cover. Helios steps closer, his gut twisting tighter with every step. He brushes dust away and opens it. The smell hits first, old parchment, dried ink, something foul beneath. Then the words. Rows upon rows of entries: names, numbers, regions. Each written in the same sharp, precise handwriting. Halo leans over, squinting. "What are these… ledgers?" Bow's expression darkens. "Not ledgers. Lists." Helios turns another page. Then another. Transfer: 1,200 subjects from western border. Payment confirmed.' 'Acquisition: 3,000 from the southern colonies.' 'Shipment: 5,500 beneath the cathedral. Awaiting cleansing rites.' The more he reads, the colder the room feels. The numbers keep climbing, tens of thousands. Then hundreds of thousands. Halo's voice cracks. "This can't be right…" Bow mutters, "He's buying them. Slaves. All of them." Helios's eyes narrow as he flips to the newest entry. The ink is still fresh: 'Final procurement ordered. All to be gathered beneath Sanctus before the dawn of the Ascension.' He turns the page, a note scrawled in different handwriting, almost like a prayer: "When the Chalice runs over, the world shall kneel. Let their blood wash the heavens clean." Silence. Bow clenches his fists. "What kind of sermon needs this many bodies?" Halo swallows hard. "This isn't faith. It's a harvest." Helios closes the book slowly, his reflection catching in the silver chalice on the cover. His voice is low, steady, but it trembles at the edges. "We're leaving. Now." They slip back into the corridor, hearts pounding. The flickering torchlight feels dimmer now, as if the cathedral itself recoils from what hides beneath it. As they step into the cold air outside, Helios glances back once. The spires of Sanctus loom against the moonlight, beautiful, holy… and rotten to the core. The door creaked shut behind them, sealing away the candlelight and the stench of the hidden room. The streets were silent. Only the sound of their footsteps echoed between the cold stone walls of Sanctus. They didn't speak until they reached the inn. Bow shut the door behind them and leaned against it, arms crossed. Halo sat down hard on the edge of his bed, rubbing his temples. Helios dropped the black book on the table, it landed with a heavy thud that seemed to shake the room. No one moved. Finally, Bow broke the silence. "You saw those numbers, right? That's not rumor. That's a damn army's worth of people." Halo's voice came out thin. "Slaves. Thousands of them. Maybe more. Bought, moved, and buried beneath this city." He looked at Helios. "What kind of church needs that many lives?" Helios stared at the book for a long moment, jaw tight. "It's not the church," he said quietly. "It's Belanor." Bow slammed his fist against the wall. "Then we tell someone. The guards, the council," Helios cut him off sharply. "And who do you think signs the orders for those guards? Belanor's not working alone. If we talk now, we'll vanish before the sun rises." Bow's eyes flared, but he didn't argue. He just stood there, breathing hard. Halo looked between them, his voice unsteady. "So what? We just sit here? Pretend we didn't see that?" Helios shook his head. "No. We find where they're keeping them. Those people don't have time for us to play politics." Bow frowned. "You're saying we break them out? All of them?" Helios looked up, the flicker of a candle reflected in his eyes like fire. "If we can find them. But first, we need proof, more than a few pages in a book." Halo nodded slowly. "Evidence first. Freedom after." The room fell silent again. The only sound was the low hum of the city outside. Bow sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "So what now?" Helios leaned back in his chair. "Lets just spend our time researching and looking into Belanor. I think that is going to be the best chance we have of gathering evidence." Halo nodded his head, "I agree, that sounds like the most logical thing to do." The three of them agreed and went back to sleep to continue their search the next day.