Location: Holy Chapterhouse of Velistra & Auron, Armathane | Duchal Palace Outer Court
Time: Day 237 After Alec's Arrival
They arrived in silence.
Three riders in grey cloaks, their horses marked not by livery, but by braided cords the color of ash and blood — the symbols of the Observational Order of the Sun-Father Auron.
The guards at the eastern gate let them pass without question. They didn't ask for blessing. They didn't ask for escort.
Inquisitors did not ask.
They observed.
They reported.
And, when needed, they corrected.
📜 The Hierarchy (Midgard's Church)
Cardinal of Edenia(Father Bastien) – based in Astana, sovereign over all doctrine
Archbishop of Velbrunna – regional enforcer, favored zealot
Bishop Taran of Midgard – quiet, deliberate, loyal to scripture but wary of fire
Archpriors & Monastery Keepers – county level intermediaries
Village Priests & Moon-Sisters – spiritual shepherds of commoners
🕯 The Bishop's Dilemma
Bishop Taran lit a candle in the chapel's inner sanctum.
It had been three days since he received word from the High Seat.
"You are to offer full cooperation. You are not to obstruct. Observation precedes judgement."
He'd known this was coming. Alec Castellan's name had appeared too many times in sermons whispered with curiosity. Too often in the dreams of scribes who now referenced his projects in civic letters more than the Book of Light.
Midgard was slipping.
Not into chaos.
But into something the Church did not control.
And that was far worse.
The inquisitors entered just after dawn. They were not robed in gold or ivory, as most priests were. They wore leather armor beneath grey vestments. Each bore a short sword hidden in a bookcase scabbard.
Their leader, a woman with pale hair and silver eyes, stepped forward.
"I am Sister-Inquisitor Maviel. Order of Ash."
Taran bowed. "Welcome to Armathane."
"We have been sent to observe the nature of... developments."
"Of course," he said, trying not to show discomfort. "The duchess has embraced a more… progressive voice."
"That is what we've been told."
Maviel's eyes did not blink.
"Is it true he teaches his own tongue?"
"Yes."
"And that the Guard recites nothing of the Sun-Father's charge before they march?"
"They recite efficiency."
Maviel's mouth twitched. "Blasphemy by omission is still blasphemy."
🔍 Their First Observations
By midday, Maviel and her companions had toured the public ledger offices, watched a grain audit, and stood at the edge of a guard training rotation.
They didn't speak.
But they wrote.
And watched.
They watched Alec deliver two hours of engineering review without once invoking divine order.
They watched Serina issue orders with the calm clarity of a tactician—not a priestess.
They watched people listen, and not once genuflect.
That night, they returned to the chapterhouse and recorded their first internal note.
"Midgard worships motion now. Not mercy. Not light. The machines run. The voices obey. The temples are full… but the minds are elsewhere."
💬 Duchess Vaelora & Bishop Taran
Duchess had requested a private meeting with the bishop upon reports of sighting of the inquisitors in Midgard as soon as possible.
She met him in the private cloister garden.
"You should have warned me," she said, eyes sharp.
"I did warn you," he replied. "Six weeks ago."
"Warnings come with teeth. You sent parchment."
"The Church does not bare its teeth until it's already decided to bite."
Vaelora poured wine herself. Not a courtesy. A statement.
"They won't find heresy."
"They're not looking for heresy. They're looking for doubt."
"Let them look," she said coldly. "There's none here."
"You mean to protect Alec."
"I mean to protect Midgard."
Taran said nothing.
He did not believe there was a difference.
🕯 Inquisition Confessional
That night, Sister Maviel knelt before the flame in her quarters, whispering into the wax of a burning scroll — a signal channel to Velbrunna.
"They do not resist us. That is the most dangerous part. They move as though they know no enemy exists. The Lord Alenia does not speak against the Church… but he speaks as though it does not exist. This cannot be tolerated. Not if Edenia is to remain whole."
She burned the wax.
And prayed.
But not to Auron.
To resolve.
🗡Alec's Quiet Realization
He knew they were watching him.
Not by the sound of footsteps.
But by the weight in the air whenever he entered a room.
Serina had noticed too.
"They keep staring," she muttered after the third inspection.
"They're not looking for error," Alec said. "They're looking for ideology."
"Do you have any?"
He paused.
Then: "Yes. But it has no saints."