Scholar Durand, you are to proceed with your appointed study of Solenne Veyra under the auspices of the Aureate Ecclesium.

  Your duty is not to question the motive, only to observe, record, and submit findings regarding her practice and if the rumors of the Mark are true.

  Doubt is not sin, Emrys, but indulgence in it can lead to disobedience. You serve not only knowledge, but the Light that grants it meaning. Walk gilded and may the Light favor you.

  P.I. Aldren Thane, Seal of the Candescent Order

  Perhaps if he closed the thick cream paper the words written on it would change. Surely it would work this time. If he just wished harder, prayed even harder, then the Choir would change the words. They would manipulate the deep red ink into a thankful recognition of his work within the Ecclesium. Emrys closed his eyes, said a small prayer, and then opened the letter once more.

  He sighed. It seemed the Choir was on the side of the Candescent Order. Emrys made a mental note to double his prayers. There was no more time to waste. He was to report to the Basilica to speak to the Primarch Inquisitor in person. The letter had seemed clear enough to him so the reason for this meeting was unclear. Standing from the brown leather chair he had plopped down into, he stretched. His body never reacted well to anxiety. This time was no different.

  He proceeded to his room. It wasn't anything special in the small flat he was given by the Ecclesium. They owned this building. Within it were eighteen flats, all just like his, where fellow scholars made their homes. Emrys had taken time over the last ten years to differentiate his home from the others. In his room, the walls were lined with shelves messily stuffed with academic and historical texts. Papers shoved between them. It smelled just like the Luminarium- vellum and myrrh with a hint of tobacco. No matter how many times the perfumer down the road tried to give him something else to 'liven up' the room, it would retain the original smell.

  Emrys stripped off his clothing. The short sleeved shirt and loose, baggy pants were inappropriate wear outside of the home. He placed the clothing into a woven basket to take to the washers in a day or two. After that he made his way to the bathroom for a hot shower. Few had that luxury. He wouldn't if it wasn't for the Ecclesium. They provided hot water to all who worked for them. It was drawn from a natural hot spring somewhere in Caelora. The exact location was a well guarded secret for obvious reasons.

  Showers were never a long ritual. He refused to waste water standing there lost in thought. There were plenty of other ways and times to do such things. Though, he had to admit, there were times he wished he could be more lackadaisical about his usage of Ecclesium resources. The warmth of the water tried so hard to coax him into staying longer, to let his mind clear before wandering to wherever it so chose to go. Emrys shook his head. He turned the water off and grabbed his towel from its nearby shelf.

  Half an hour later he was dressed in scholar robes. They were softer than his other clothing. The colors richer. Emrys studied them in the full length mirror against a wall in his living area. He mused his hair, frowning as he tried to get it to cooperate. It was getting long. Something to deal with later. For now he just made sure the silver and dark blue vestments looked well enough to be presented to the Primarch Inquisitor. They were starting to fray at the edges. The right sleeve had a smattering of ink while the left donned a small burn mark. His fingers still ached at the memory of trying to fix these imperfections.

  Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong.

  He cursed. It was already four. He had less than a half hour to make it to the Basilica before prayers began. Emrys left his flat as if the Light itself lit a fire under his heels. There was no time to greet others who were in the halls nor on the stairs. He barely registered as he was told to slow down. They didn't understand. They never would. Scholars were not called upon by the Candescent Order to undertake missions such as this.

  That hit Emrys hard. His steps faltered. Why had he been chosen for this? Would it have not been easier to simply send the Pale Order to take care of her? He shook his head. They couldn't do that. The Order didn't exist on paper, after all. Emrys only knew of it from hidden archival notes he doubted he was supposed to see. One of the only times he ever purposefully sinned was when he took those papers from the Aruifer Archive to preserve them. No other soul in the Luminarium knew he had done such a thing. He breathed in deep, let it out slowly, and refocused on the feeling of his worn boots against cobblestone. He reached the Basilica with ten minutes to spare. Light be praised he was meeting with Aldren instead of Saint Warefor.

  "Choir forgive me for missing Midweek." He mumbled as he walked through the opened double doors with other partitioners. Unlike the others, he walked along the outer hall until he found the darkened opening with a golden plate above it. The Candescent Order was engraved in sprawling script bookended by elaborate filigree. Emrys walked down a dimly lit corridor. On either side of him were portraits of past Primarchs, other Inquisitors, and one that was different from the others.

  Emrys stopped long enough to stare at the portrait of Toran Harous. Unlike the other portraits who all faced right, he faced left. Other scholars believed he was a "rebellious Primarch" but he knew better. Harous was the founder of the Pale Order. He took precious time to look closer. Rarely did he get to just stare at the paintings to really study them. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in closer.

  "You shouldn't breathe directly on those."

  If the scholar had borne a weapon, it would have been pointed at the man who tried to prematurely send his soul to the Light. Instead he had whipped around, sending his vestments dramatically twirling. Emrys knew who the voice belonged to before seeing him. Standing behind him, almost towering, was Primarch Inquisitor Aldren Thane.

  "My apologies, Primarch Inquisitor." Emrys bowed deeply. His eyes stayed locked on shiny white boots.

  Aldren sighed a bit. "Rise, Scholar Durand." He sounded annoyed.

  Had Emrys annoyed him? Panic welled in his chest as he rose. He tried to stare anywhere but his eyes, the silver comet tails streaking through inky black hair, the wrinkles in his forehead, his high cheekbones. Emrys glanced up. He fought back a wince realizing that Aldren was staring directly at him. There was no stopping the meeting of pale green-grey and piercing blue.

  "I'm assuming you understood the contents of the letter I sent." It wasn't a question. Aldren looked away from Emrys to the portrait of Toran. He gazed upon it longingly. Why? They had not known each other personally. Emrys felt his brow furrow. When Aldren glanced at him, the scholar realized he was supposed to answer anyway.

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  "Yes, Primarch." His face flushed.

  Aldren's eyes narrowed. Emrys tried hard to keep the heat from rising more. He didn't think he was as successful as he hoped when he heard Aldren sigh heavily.

  "This is not something to take lightly, Emrys. I am entrusting you with a task greater than us both."

  Emrys was utterly confused. How was this greater than them both? If that was true, why not send the Pale Order to just end her heresy? Then he thought back to the letter. They needed proof before releasing their hounds. Why with her? The whispers in the Ecclesium were that the Order was sent out over even the smallest rumor.

  "Forgive me, Primarch, but why send me? There are others far more skilled for such a task." Emrys couldn't help but question their decision.

  "I didn't choose you." His words were clipped. It was obvious Aldren had not wanted him.

  "Then who?"

  Aldren's mouth formed the faintest of smirks. "My boy, you were chosen by the Archons and the Choir itself."

  ???????????????

  He had been chosen.

  Emrys threw up. His shoulders heaved once more as his body tried to continue its purge of his nerves. It was only by the grace of Light he was walking down an alleyway when it happened. Had it happened when he was still talking to Primarch Aldren, Emrys would have joined the Choir in the most disgraceful way. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and frowned. There was no time to change. He needed to get to the apothecary. Adjusting his bag, he continued on.

  The Outer Veil felt foreign to him. There had never been a reason for him to wander this far from the cleaner streets of the Central. He wasn't a drinker nor a smoker. Scholars did not need weapons or cheap clothing. Emrys frowned a bit at that. He did buy the cheapest robes he could from the Ecclesium tailor, though, and even those were not cheap. It was why his robes looked the way they did.

  His one saving grace was the fact that no one was on the streets. They were still at the Basilica prostrating themselves to the Light. No one stared at him. No one asked what he was doing so far from home or why he was there. He had been warned by Aldren that the people of the Veil stuck together. Those hadn't been his exact words but it was better than calling them rats. Emrys shook his head. He glanced at where he had stopped. Wait, when had he stopped walking?

  Emrys kept moving. To his left was a sweets shop. On the right was a tailor. If he was recalling his directions correctly, he was close to the shop. It should have just been around the corner. He could almost feel an odd sense of relief as he rounded to the next street. Emrys' stomach dropped.

  Had he taken a wrong turn? No. There was no way. He had followed the directions perfectly. Right? Or had it been left? Did Primarch Aldren lie to him? Emrys felt his breathing quicken. His chest felt tight. A hand reached up to rub at his throat. Instead of seeing the apothecary, he was instead staring at the stables. From what he recalled, the stables were on the other side of the Outer Veil. Surely he had not walked in the entirely wrong direction? That puking feeling was returning.

  "Hey there. You okay?"

  The soft voice stopped the bile from rising further in his throat. Who was talking to him? He looked around before looking down. At his side was a young girl with messy hair and dirt on her cheek. She was looking up at him.

  "I asked you a question, mister. You okay?" She had seemingly expected a quick reply.

  "Oh uhm," He felt his face get hot, "I'm lost. Can you tell me where the apothecary is?"

  A cheeky grin appeared on her face. "Course I do. Good thing you ran into me mister or else you'd still be looking greener than a frog." She giggled.

  Emrys frowned slightly. This was why he wasn't a huge fan of children. They were far too open with the unneeded opinions. "I guess it is. Where do I go?"

  She put her hands on her hips. "What are you spose to say?"

  He was supposed to say something? Did Solenne have some kind of passcode to get into her shop? That wasn't in the letter or what Aldren told him. What could he say? Suddenly the girl groaned and shook her head.

  "You're looking like someone just asked you to recite the Doctrine by heart. I meant you needed to say please, you frog."

  Emrys gawfed. "I am not a frog." How dare this child. Who did she think she was? Were they all like this in the Veil? Surely not. They had to be raised with some kind of manners. Then again, he couldn't be sure seeing as they were talking during Midweek when both of them should have been somewhere else. "Why are you out here anyway?"

  "’Cause I can be. No reason to go to the Basilica." She shrugged.

  "Of course there is. The Light cannot bless those it cannot reach." Emrys quoted.

  She shook her head. "Kinda stupid don't you think? Especially with how big that stupid building is. The Light should be able to reach even out here."

  There was something in her tone that caught his attention. She was hurting or had been hurt. He glanced around. No adults were in their vicinity. At least none that he could see.

  "Where are your parents?"

  She just stared up at him before shrugging. "Dead. Bloom got 'em."

  His eyes went wide. How could she be so nonchalant about such a thing? Emrys was reeling though he tried to keep his face neutral.

  "Did they not go to the healers?"

  The girl snorted out a laugh. "You're jokin’ right? Those healers don't do nothing for us. Even Sol couldn't do much, not without-" She cut herself short. "Anyway, come on, frog. I'll take you to her." Without waiting on him to follow, she started off back in the direction he had come from.

  Emrys didn't know what to do other than follow the girl. Why hadn't the healers helped? Bloom wasn't that difficult to get rid of. They had magic now. It wasn't as if they had to rely on herbs and things like the apothecary did. It was true the healing magic was a recent blessing from the Choir but to not cure Bloom? He frowned, grateful the child walked in front of him.

  "Were your parents faithful?" It was a dumb question. Of course they were. Everyone in Caelora was.

  There was no answer. She simply hummed a hymn as they continued on. Emrys felt his skin crawl with embarrassment. Perhaps she hadn't heard him? Should he ask again? Before he could calm his overthinking, the girl stopped in her tracks. He nearly ran her over.

  "There. The dingy yellow door. Good luck, frog." With that, the girl left Emrys standing on the narrow sidewalk.

  He sighed heavily, straightened up, and walked up to the door. He knocked a few times. Impatience was starting to settle in when suddenly a woman was staring at him. Emrys was taken aback by the golden halos around her pupils. Their aura melted into soft brown. He frowned. This was not what he expected.

  Nor had he expected his bluff to work. She told him to come back at breakfast. He would have to find an inn to stay overnight. Perhaps there was some place he could temporarily rent on the Ecclesium's coin so he didn’t have to trek back and forth every day. That would be far too tiring.

  Emrys kept thinking about how she looked at him. He had lied to her. It had been Aldren who gave him her name. Had she known he was lying? If so, why truly take him in? Was it really just because she would become annoyed by him showing up every day? Bells tolling brought him out of his head. Midweek had ended. People would be making their way back to the Veil.

  He quickly found a small inn not far from the apothecary. Emrys rented the smallest room he could to save funds. It wasn't as if he needed a lot of space anyway. As long as he had a bed, he would be fine. He dropped his bag on the floor. Once he had stripped off his robes, Emrys sat on the bed to write in his journal. There was also a letter to write to the Ecclesium for an ongoing stipend. Surely, they would help their chosen. Observations Day One- Can I even really call this day one? It was more of a meeting I suppose. She seems reluctant but I don't blame her. Nothing about her seems out of the ordinary. Unremarkable is what Korin and the others would call her. I will remain observant and vigilant.

  Emrys put his journal down on the night stand. He laid back on the bed, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.