Chương 65: Chapter 64: The Sleep Disturbance

The return to the hostel was marked by a strange, almost surreal calm, as if they were walking inside a glass bubble where time passed at a different speed. Everything unfolded with absolute normality, as if the universe, after so many trials, had taken pity on them and granted them a truce, a respite in the middle of the storm. Anya's greeting at the gate was their usual mantle of calm.

The sister of charity received them with that smile that was both tired and warm, with that "welcome, little ones" that sounded like home. At her side, Kael, the stone guardian, remained upright, but Selena managed to see the exchange of complicit glances with Anya, that silent flirting that was already part of the landscape. Everything was in its place. The signature with Elara was a quick formality.

The woman of steel, with her severe bun and her spotless robe, only asked for their names and dismissed them with her characteristic gesture, without questions, without delays, as if they too were already part of the furniture. But through all of it, Selena moved with deep tranquility, a serenity born of extreme exhaustion and a renewed certainty.

The feeling of Kaela at her side, her silhouette walking in parallel, the almost imperceptible brush of their arms as they walked was a balm more powerful than any answer she had found in books. Kaela was all she had in this world, and at that moment, she was all she needed. In the community time, she even allowed herself a slight smile.

The women spoke, as always, of the small things that wove daily life: the price of bread, the antics of animals in the market, the story of a nimora that had slipped into a shop and caused a scandal. When the conversation drifted toward those light topics, Selena, with a voice still a bit weak but clear, skillfully joked about a wordplay. The joke, simple and every day, provoked genuine laughter around the table.

It was a clean, crystalline sound that washed away part of the afternoon's bitterness, dissipating the shadows that still clung to her heart. Even Nyssa, in her world of prices, sketched a smile before returning to her litany. Anya guided them to the dormitory and gave the evening prayer. Her words were a serene murmur that sealed the day, a collective blessing that enveloped them all in its mantle of faith and hope.

The collective "goodnight" resonated with a comforting synchrony, a chorus of tired but united voices. And then, each one headed to her straw mattress. Selena wrapped herself in her blanket, feeling the roughness of the fabric like a familiar caress, like an embrace from this world that, little by little, was ceasing to be foreign to her. Beside her, the slight movement of Kaela settling into the straw was a constant reminder that she was not alone.

That, even if everything else collapsed, there was someone watching over her. In that shared stillness, under the roof of the Sacred Rest, both sank into a deep sleep. Not as fugitives, not as seekers of answers, not as heretics or conspirators. Simply as two tired travelers who, for one night, had found a safe harbor in each other. That night, Selena's sleep was a mantle of black velvet. No nightmares, no echoes of distant voices, no silver threads or women with bandages over their eyes.

Her body felt comfortable in its own skin, wrapped in a comforting warmth that emanated from the simple presence of Kaela at her side. Upon closing her eyes, there was only peace, a deep and restorative rest that made her forget, for a few hours, the read horrors, the lived traumas, and the unanswered questions. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. But morning did not arrive with the familiar ringing of Anya's bronze bell.

A different sound, metallic and ominous, cut through the dawn silence like a knife tearing fabric. It was not a single toll, but a unison of dry and resonant impacts, a martial rhythm that made the dirt floor vibrate. It was a noise that did not belong to the hostel, a sound of order, of discipline, and of absolute power, a violent intrusion into the precarious peace of that women's refuge. All the women woke at once.

It was like a flash of instantaneous panic that pulled them from their mattresses, a single electric impulse running through everybody. As in a unique and fateful event, they crowded at the door of the communal dormitory, pushing each other slightly in a silence that weighed more than any scream. Their eyes, wide open with fear, searched through the cracks in the wood for the source of that intrusion. Selena, dragged by the tide of bodies, looked up from the dirt floor and saw it.

There were ten soldiers, standing like statues in the hostel courtyard. Their armor, of burnished steel or gleaming iron, flashed with the moonlight, projecting reflections that danced on the adobe walls. But one stood out among them, a specter of darkness in the midst of the metallic shine. His armor was a deep black, like polished obsidian, like the night made into metal. On his shoulders, like a weight of centuries, rested a quartered shield.

Selena, with her mind still clouded by sleep, examined it with an automatic, almost unconscious coldness: A golden hawk with red claws, wielding a silver spear, over a field of intense green. Interspersed by three blue waves over silver, like a miniature sea. Flanked by two birds, their wings extended in a gesture of protection or threat. The heraldry screamed power. It screamed lineage. It screamed a dominion that went beyond a simple village, beyond Terracanto, beyond even Baron Reedholm.

These are not guards, Selena thought, and the realization hit her with the force of a hammer to the chest. They are soldiers. Soldiers like the ones who followed Bjorn. Then, the most terrifying question, the one that froze the blood in her veins and paralyzed her heart for an instant: Do they know Kaela and I follow the Path of the Voice? Do they know about the cave? Do they know about heretics? Have they come for us? An uncontrollable shudder, like an electric current, ran down her spine from top to bottom.

Looking beside her, she saw Kaela with her face completely distraught, her dark eyes wide open, reflecting the same frozen terror she felt. The tanner, always so strong, so controlled, seemed on the verge of crumbling. And then Selena saw it: Kaela was clutching the bracelet of common stones, that gift from Corren, with such force that her knuckles looked like plaster, white as lime. She held it as if it were a talisman, as if in those rough stones and that ordinary thread she could find the protection they needed.

The dormitory door opened wide, pushed by an invisible hand from outside. The women were pushed into the courtyard, forming a trembling group that pressed against one another in search of comfort. The cold night air filled with the smell of damp earth, mixing with that of metal oil and armor leather. The leader, the one in black armor, slowly turned his head. The helm, with a closed visor that only revealed a dark slit where eyes should be, directed itself straight toward Selena. It was not a general sweep.

It was not a gaze that roamed the group. It was precise recognition, an exact localization, as if he knew exactly whom he was looking for and where to find her. Selena felt time stand still. How the entire world reduced itself to that instant, to that dark slit of the helm looking at her, judging her, condemning her.

As he prepared to speak, instantly, his nine subordinates, with a perfectly synchronized movement that spoke of years of training and discipline, dropped to one knee, bowing their heads in a gesture of absolute submission. The silence became absolute, broken only by the muffled gasp of some woman.