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### **Chapter 14 – "Sanctified Lies"**
*Point of View: Seraphina de Alvere*
A soft snowfall blanketed the upper terraces of Sanctra Lyselle, the Holy Capital of the Empire. From the golden towers of the Church of the Fourfold Light, incense drifted into the morning air like the final sigh of a dying saint.
Seraphina de Alvere stood at the edge of the Sanctum Garden, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her ceremonial blade. The blade was never meant for battle—but then again, neither was she.
And yet here she was. A walking contradiction. A saint gifted with the rarest Veil-type magic. The highest recorded affinity in the Empire's history. A divine miracle—or perhaps the Church's most dangerous aberration.
*"You have one year."*
That voice still echoed in her mind. The divine sentence given by the gods in that fateful vision after her resurrection.
Live for one year. Achieve your goal. And then… vanish.
"Your grace," came a voice behind her.
She turned slightly. It was Liora, her handmaiden and spy, in a discreet veil that marked her as a simple attendant.
"We confirmed it. The orphanage in East Lyselle was emptied two nights ago. No transfer records. And two of the priests listed are known for frequent trips to the underground chambers."
Seraphina's jaw tightened. "They're accelerating."
"Yes."
"How many witnesses?"
"None brave enough to speak. But there's more." Liora passed her a folded parchment. "A sigil. We found it branded into the floor. It matches the one in your mother's journal."
Seraphina took the parchment carefully. A stylized flame within a circle—ancient, forgotten. The mark of the **Covenant of Ash**, a pre-divine era cult thought extinct.
"It always comes back to fire," she muttered. "Even the gods fear it."
Liora hesitated. "Do you want to involve the Arch-Deacon?"
"No." Her voice was sharp, then softened. "Not yet. If the Covenant has infiltrated this high, we don't know who to trust."
There was a beat of silence before Liora spoke again, quietly. "You're burning the candle too fast, Seraphina. The miracles… you've been using them more recklessly."
Seraphina smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Because I have no time for caution, Liora."
Her veil fluttered with a strange shimmer, almost like threads of moonlight caught in a breeze. The power was growing stronger. Veil-type magic wasn't meant to evolve like this. It was supposed to be gentle, protective.
But hers was beginning to unravel illusions. Even twist fate.
She had prayed for justice. The gods had given her a countdown.
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### Meanwhile, in the Lower City...
A young apothecary girl stared into her cauldron as the flame beneath it flickered blue.
"The flame again," she whispered. "The same symbol. Every time I dream."
And far to the west, in a ruined library beneath the ocean cliffs, a blind priest transcribed a prophecy with shaking hands:
> "The Saint reborn shall mask her light in shadows.
> The Covenant shall seek her blood.
> The flame that devours gods shall rise again—
> And she shall choose which world burns."
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### END OF CHAPTER 14