Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When Augustine woke up the next day, Alderian was already there. He stood by the window, pensive, which led her to suspect that the nocturnal visit had not gone entirely well.
“Is something wrong?” she asked cautiously.
“I’ve been summoned before the High Council today.”
Augustine started, uneasy. “Did they discover us?”
He shook his head. “I believe it’s because of the breach. They’ve been calling all witnesses to give their statements lately, and my turn has come. Don’t worry about it, today you have more important things to do.”
Augustine got up and went to him. “It seems we both have our own battles to fight today,” she said, forcing a smile. “Do your best, Alderian. Show no hint of doubt and don’t worry about me. I’ll do the same.”
Alderian smiled back and nodded. “I trust you. Do your best,” he said before vanishing.
Augustine watched him disappear, her stomach tight with nerves. She stood still for a moment, gathering her feelings before springing into action.
* * *
The first thing she did upon arriving at the university was to head to room A-25.
She didn’t have classes there, but Isaac did.
Stepping up to the door, she peered through the narrow window in the glass and spotted him sitting in the third row.
The professor had already arrived, though the lecture had yet to begin.
She took three deep breaths to calm herself and, determined to get answers, entered the room.
Ignoring the surprised looks from those present, she walked down the row and sat down right next to Isaac.
He was a tall, thin young man, and his glasses didn’t hide the gentleness in his gaze.
Augustine felt a sudden spark of hope seeing him up close; he looked like a decent guy.
“What are you doing here?” Isaac whispered urgently. He didn’t seem completely surprised; he had clearly recognized her the moment she walked in.
“We’ll talk when the lecture ends,” Augustine murmured back. “I don’t want to cause a scene in front of your classmates.”
“And why would you cause a scene?” Isaac asked, looking defensive. “What business do you have with me?”
“Not with you, but with the administrator of the Campus Confessions account.”
Isaac went silent instantly. He shifted uncomfortably, though he then gave an awkward smile. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at how quickly you found me. You have a reputation for being remarkably fast.”
Augustine raised an eyebrow, her chest tightening. “Fast? Like easy, you mean,” she said, her anger simmering dangerously beneath the surface.
Isaac looked at her, completely taken aback by her reaction. “I don’t mean that at all. I’ve followed your YouTube channel for years; you’re smart, that’s what I meant. Finding me shouldn’t have been a significant challenge for you.”
Augustine bit her lip, suddenly regretful of her sharp tongue. “I’m sorry, I’ve been very defensive since what happened yesterday. Can we talk then?”
Isaac nodded quietly in agreement.
The hour passed quickly. To her surprise, and despite her plans, Augustine actually found herself enjoying the lecture.
It was an introduction to multidimensional spaces, and she found it fascinating, even if she couldn’t fully grasp everything the professor explained.
The moment the professor left the room, Augustine stood before Isaac.
She said nothing, yet the young man understood; he quietly packed his bag and followed her out into the hallway.
“Let’s go to the lounge,” Isaac suggested.
Augustine shook her head. “There’re too many people there, and I need to speak with you in private.”
Leaving the building, they walked through the campus gardens and found an unoccupied bench far from the bustle. Augustine turned to him and gestured for him to sit. Looking at him directly, she said, “You know why I’m here.”
“Yes,” Isaac sighed. “You need me to take down the post, right?”
“Not just that. I need to know who is behind the publication.”
Isaac adjusted his glasses with his index finger. “I’m sorry, Augustine. I may take down the post, but I can’t tell you who sent it. That goes against the entire spirit of the account. The idea is for people to make confessions anonymously.”
“I understand that, but the same criteria can’t apply if you’re defaming someone else,” Augustine countered, her voice rising slightly.
“I suppose if you want to confess your own feelings, that’s fine, but a hate message toward a classmate…
I can’t believe you support something like that.
You don’t seem like that kind of person. ”
At her words, Isaac turned red with embarrassment.
“Anyway,” Augustine added, narrowing her eyes, “you already know I have a YouTube channel, so you surely also know I have a substantial following. Even if I don’t live a millionaire’s life, I have a small fortune in my account.
I was saving for a personal project, but given the gravity of this, I won’t hesitate to hire the best lawyer in this damn city.
I don’t want to threaten you, but that’s exactly what I’ll do if you don’t cooperate. ”
Internally, Augustine had run through that conversation over and over in her head. She wanted to be intimidating, but the truth was, her threat was a complete bluff, and only she knew just how depleted her bank account really was.
Isaac said nothing for a few minutes, staring down at his hands, then looked at her directly. “I can’t answer you right now. I understand what you’re saying and I’ll take it into consideration, but I need to think about it before deciding. For now, I’ll take down the post.”
Augustine nodded, watching as Isaac stood to leave.
But before he turned his back, she added one final plea: “There is someone I suspect. I think he’s a stalker.
He’s been following me and trying to use all of this to get closer to me.
I’m asking you, Isaac… please… if the person I suspect is behind the post, I really need to know so I can report him. You might have the proof I need.”
Isaac looked at her one last time, and Augustine could see in his expression that he genuinely regretted what was happening. “I’ll think about it,” he promised. “I’ll be in touch once I’ve decided.”
Augustine watched him walk away with a sliver of hope warming her chest. She had taken the first step toward the truth.
Glancing down at her phone, she checked the time and realized it was time for her own lectures.
Instantly, a knot formed in her stomach, and the thought of facing her classmates again made her think about just heading home.
But the coursework was difficult, and she feared this scandal wouldn’t just affect her reputation, but her studies as well.
The lecture room was right next to where she had been.
She entered to find a scene identical to the previous day; no one looked at her, and no one acknowledged her existence.
She was entirely invisible, much like the A’aruin lurking in the area.
Amanda and David were sitting in the front seats, and Amanda was holding his hand, whispering words of comfort. Neither of them noticed her presence.
* * *
The building housing the High Council was imposing. From a distance, the massive structure had the delicate shape of a lotus flower with open petals. It was completely surrounded by crystalline lagoons, giving it the illusion from above of floating gracefully on water.
There were seven grand entrances leading to the Great Hall.
It was said that in the Ancient Order, there had been more Sovereign Guardians, but today, only three govern A’aru, and therefore, only three gates remained open.
Since the summons came directly from the Guardian of Order, Alderian entered through the Gate of Shields.
A massive crowd of A’aruin had gathered outside to discuss various matters with the Council, and the entrances were heavily guarded by a sentinel army verifying the identity of every spirit seeking an audience.
Alderian had dressed for the absolute formality of the occasion, donning elegant silver armor he rarely wore.
A stark white cape left a trail of brilliant light in his wake, contrasting sharply with his imposing black wings.
Those who witnessed his arrival at the Lotus Palace that day had to suppress the urge to bow, instantly recognizing an ancient and forgotten hierarchy in his stride.
He reached the threshold of the high entrance and stopped, waiting for authorization to enter.
The sentinels guarding the sacred gate did not stop him, stepping aside immediately.
He walked down the long corridor without looking back, his jaw set and his will iron-clad.
The hallway was lined with martial sculptures of past Guardians of Order, yet none had names; that was an identity they renounced upon ascending to sovereignty.
Alderian hadn’t walked this particular hall often, but whenever he did, he felt utterly overwhelmed by the majesty of the so-called Ascendants.
“Welcome, Alderian,” said the child god as soon as Alderian stood in the center of the hall and gave a formal greeting.
Alderian gave a slight, respectful nod.
“As always, so haughty,” said the Guardian of Order, seated upon his throne. “Tell me, are you aware of the disaster you left behind the day of The Breach? There are still undesirable rumors circulating because of your actions.”
Alderian looked straight ahead, perfectly martial, without moving a single muscle.
“As you know, Alderian, we have made extensive rounds with witnesses to understand the events of that day,” explained the Guardian of Oblivion.
“We saved you for last because your case is, in itself, a peculiar anomaly—different in nature from the event of The Breach, even if it occurred in response to it. Throughout these rounds, we have uncovered certain matters that we wish to clarify with you.”
Although the Guardian of Oblivion had an infant’s appearance, Alderian knew all too well that it was he who truly dominated the High Council.
“I am at your disposal to clarify any doubts regarding the events,” he responded formally.
“Bring the vessel,” ordered the Guardian of Threads.
Though she hadn’t intervened until now, she was watching Alderian carefully, her eyes tracking his every breath.
A servant spirit ceremoniously brought a bowl of white quartz with pink quartz inlays and placed it on a richly forged pedestal right in front of him.
Alderian looked down at the sacred object, intrigued. Pink? Was there color?
No one else seemed to have noticed this strange detail, which was an anomaly even greater than the one for which he had been summoned.
“This is the Vessel of Lethe,” announced the Guardian of Threads, standing up. At her movement, the other guardians followed suit, and all guards and servant spirits bowed deeply before the relic. Alderian did the same to stay strictly within protocol.
“Within it rests the sacred water of Lethe, the source of life and the emblem of our species,” the Guardian of Threads continued. “Alderian, deposit part of your Silver Thread into the sacred water as a testament to the truth of your words today.”
He gently took hold of his own Silver Thread and, with deep veneration, lowered it into the water. He could feel the cold pull of Lethe in that brief contact, and for the first time, he was afraid. If Lethe was to be his witness, he knew he could not lie.