The days following the attack passed in a blur. The Lunar Sanctum had apparently not experienced a security breach of that entity in decades, and the fact that it hadn’t turned into a bloodbath was entirely thanks to Orion, according to his mother.
He hadn’t understood at the time, too tired and stunned by the intensity of the confrontation with Morliana. However, Asteria had explained that what Magistra Eire had done wasn’t merely a formal way of thanking him.
She had granted him a favor, which could be redeemed at any time of his choosing. This was evidently a very big deal, given that the woman was widely regarded as the next in line for Veil Priestess when an opening came.
"No matter how hard I tried to resist her, Morliana is just too powerful for me to handle, both magically and politically,” Asteria explained as she sat at the dining table, surrounded by a dozen student papers to grade.
She hadn’t gone into his room since she burned his journal, and he appreciated the privacy. However, he finally felt recovered, and now he wanted answers. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to mind providing them.
“When she came to me last week, with numerous testimonies of witches in good standing saying that they saw you practice unnatural magics… There was little else I could do but promise that I would get rid of any such research and keep you on the moonlit path.” She explained with a heavy sigh. Her eyes were haunted, and Orion knew she had barely gotten any sleep in the past few days, having been forced to rebuild and organize the restocking of the new ingredient storage while simultaneously juggling her regular classes and taking care of him as he recovered from overdoing it magically and being exposed to such powerful witches getting serious.
“I’m not saying this to justify what I did. I realize now that even that would have never appeased Morliana. I should have known that such a staunch traditionalist would immediately take a dislike to your…unique approach. I just had no way to stand up to her that didn’t risk ending in both of our deaths.” Her head was bowed, and it was clear she felt terrible about it all.
Orion couldn’t deny a small flicker of pleasure at seeing her so contrite. Knowing that it was Morliana who had pressured her to get rid of his research—and how was it even possible that she knew enough about it to deem it unnatural?—did absolve her of some of her faults, but she had still burned his journal. She could have done many things, starting with explaining to him what was happening in the first place, rather than forcing him to watch as his work was burned to ash.
“Why are you being so upfront now?” he asked. Asteria had always told him he was a bright child, but she had also actively kept him from learning too much. That she was now telling him everything without hesitation was strange, to say the least.
She looked up, and there was a twisted sort of amusement in her eyes. “You are a brilliant young man, Orion. I have never had any doubts you would shake the Sanctum one day. But there is a reason why tradition dictates that children follow a certain path, especially before they get their class. Knowledge is extremely valuable, especially to you, but it comes at a cost. Getting the wrong understanding of some things, or even learning about the world too soon, might mean warping your fate. The Sanctum is an old institution. It has been around long enough to perfect its methods. If the doctrine states children should only be taught so much of the world until their class ceremony, it is because doing otherwise risks damaging their chances. Many had their futures ruined because they started fearing the necromancers of the Ebony Gauntlet or the Twilight Hordes, or because they experimented with spells beyond their abilities and harmed themselves.”
That was a lot to digest. Orion blinked, processing what she meant. “Does that mean that even such small things can influence what class we are given?”
He already knew that the ceremony would be almost pivotal for their lives. Children who received a non-magical class wouldn’t have a real future in the sanctum, and depending on which one they received, they would be assigned to different lessons and given different expectations. But to think that someone’s life could be ruined simply because they were scared of zombies?
“Everything you do, from the day you are born to the day you receive your class, is extremely important. There are recorded tales of children receiving non-magical classes because they were taken to bakeries too often. No one knows exactly what the process is, but there is no doubt that the only way to guarantee a magical class is to keep you in the Sanctum and carefully control everything you do.” She replied, sounding dead serious.
Orion inhaled, pursing his lips. He didn’t like being so restricted, and such absolute determinism deeply disgusted him. Although he might not have cared much about politics in his previous life, he appreciated the opportunity to become what he wanted, regardless of who he was born to.
His old parents had been cranks and fools, and if his life had been determined by their upbringing, he would never have been able to become the world-renowned scientist he was.
He also didn’t miss the implication that children raised outside the Sanctum had little to no chance of obtaining a magical class without the highly controlled environment cultivated here. It suddenly made sense why so few outsider children ever came, despite the coven being responsible for such a large territory.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Millions of people likely never get the chance to make something of their lives just because of where they were born.
That wasn’t such a strange occurrence throughout human history. In fact, Orion would go so far as to say it was the norm for nearly all of it, but he couldn’t shake the nearly physical disgust he felt.
It wasn’t even about resources, although those likely played a role too. It was the knowledge that the Sanctum possessed, which the rest of the province could only dream of obtaining. They held a monopoly on such valuable insights, and even Asteria, who was compassionate and kind, didn’t seem to spend a moment considering whether it was fair for them to withhold the truth.
It always comes back to that, doesn't it? This is a cult.
Before he could fall into that rabbit hole, he shook his head. There would be time for that later. “You still didn’t answer my question. Why be so upfront now?”
Asteria smiled, “Because now you have shown everyone that you are already on the right path. Casting a proper light spell, one strong enough to affect a ghoul made of a level fifty guardsman… That’s not something that can be argued against, no matter what the old bitch says.”
The shock of hearing his mother cuss for the first time was almost enough for him to miss the meaning of what she said. “Does that mean that I’m safe now? That I can start researching without worrying about being called a heretic?”
She chuckled, amused that this was his first question, and nodded, “In a sense, yes. Now that you have the support of Magistra Eire, who is far more powerful and connected than I am, you benefit from her protection. News of this will circulate, especially with the High Priestess's approval. Morliana will keep an eye on you, don’t get it wrong. She is quite old, and her influence in the Sanctum is extensive. Her followers will observe all your public actions. However, as long as you avoid making reckless claims, you should be fine.”
Orion nodded in thanks. He realized he had made an enemy, but he had also gained something very important: time.
The next lesson Orion attended was not held in the classroom they’d been using for the past two sessions. Apparently, that entire wing of the coven was undergoing cleansing from the ghouls’ tainted presence, and even if that were not the case, he doubted many children would have appreciated returning to a place filled with such violent memories.
Not that they seemed traumatized.
The new classroom was located on the fifth floor, right next to Magistra Eire’s study, and apparently enjoyed significant protections invisible to his eyes. It was also filled with excited chatter, as if nothing had happened.
These kids were clearly more resilient than anyone realized. While they were undoubtedly frightened of the ghoul, if Orion thought back on it, he couldn’t recall anyone screaming or openly crying.
The two knight statues next to the door may have also contributed to the overall sense of safety. Their armors were inscribed with hundreds of tiny runes, and Orion had no doubt they would be far more formidable than their previous protector. It seemed that Eire had gone to great lengths to ensure they could feel secure while learning.
The door opened, and in walked the woman herself. The knights bowed lightly before resuming their watch, while the children scrambled to their seats, greeting in unison, “Good morning Magistra Eire!”
“Good morrow to you, children.” She replied, taking her place at her desk. Her eyes roamed over the bright faces, and she seemed pleased that no one was missing or withdrawn.
She lingered for a moment on Orion himself, and when he nodded, she inclined her head in acknowledgment.
It was reassuring to know he had someone on his side. Even if he didn’t have the means to enforce the favor he was owed, the fact that the entire Sanctum was aware of it meant that Eire couldn’t avoid him without her reputation crumbling.
She was still a powerful witch, and he doubted it would significantly harm her standing. However, since she was seen as next in line for Veil Priestess, he suspected she was careful about how the Sanctum viewed her overall and, more importantly, how the High Priestess perceived her, especially since she had given her blessing for this favor.
Denying him wouldn’t do her any good.
“Today, I would like to talk to you about why we put so much importance on mastering the Moon-Mother’s gift here in the Lunar Sanctum,” she began, and Orion raised his eyebrows. After the conversation he had with his mother about the significance of keeping pre-class children in the dark, he hadn’t expected Eire to tackle the matter so directly.
Perhaps she’ll just share a parable. I’m sure there are plenty about doing the right thing and how fighting against evil is something every good witch should strive for.
“What happened during our last lesson was horrible,” she continued, and Orion had to eat back his words. No parable then. Interesting.
“An attack on the Sanctum of that level hasn’t happened in a long time, and it would have been even worse if it hadn’t been for the heroic actions of our very own Orion!” She said firmly, and he had to fight back a blush as every kid turned to him, eyes shining in awe.
Even Selene, who was usually much more composed, seemed to regard him with new eyes. He kicked her under the desk and caught a tiny smirk, which she immediately hid afterward.
Ah, so not awestruck, just a traitor. Good to know, he grumbled mentally.
“But what Orion did wasn’t something that came out of nowhere. No matter how talented he is, if it weren’t for the Mother blessing the Sanctum with such abundant light mana, such a thing wouldn’t have been possible.”
That wasn’t what he had expected, but after a moment, he nodded. He would have liked to say that it was all due to his efforts, and there was no doubt that he had been the one to develop the formula he had used.
But he already knew that the energy of a specific location could significantly affect a spell. If he had tried the same formula in Silverpeak town, he would have achieved a much weaker Torchlight.
“So, why is light mana so powerful that it could let Orion push back against a monster?” Eire asked, extending her hand and summoning a ball of light similar to what he’d used.
At her unseen command, the ball expanded until it enveloped her entire body, forming a spherical, translucent shield that hovered two feet away from her skin.
“Let me show you.”
With that, one of the knights guarding the door suddenly moved, drawing gasps from the children. It raised its sword and, in a fluid motion, brought it down with tremendous force. When the other, weaker stone knight had executed a similar move, it had been enough to slice the ghoul in two.
This time, the sword ricocheted off the seemingly flimsy shield, sending the knight tumbling.
