Requiem of the Abyss & The Dawn's Call

5 – The Weight of Doubt

Pain.

Lucian's body ached as he slowly regained consciousness. The familiar scent of incense and sterile linens filled his lungs—the unmistakable fragrance of a Holy Dominion infirmary. A dull throbbing pulsed through his side, where the creature's claws had torn into his flesh. He had been healed, but the pain remained.

His first real wound. His first real failure.

Memories of the battle flooded his mind. The transformed heretics. The robed figure. The prisoners kneeling before him. His hesitation.

His fingers curled into a fist. He should have obeyed Malagar's command without question. Yet… something had stopped him.

"You hesitated."

Malagar's words echoed in his mind like a lingering specter.

Lucian exhaled, pushing himself upright. The room was dimly lit by a single enchanted lantern hanging from the ceiling, its golden glow casting long shadows on the stone walls. He was still in the Dominion stronghold, but how long had he been unconscious?

The door creaked open.

A figure stepped inside—tall, poised, and clad in the pristine white and gold uniform of the Holy Dominion's elite knights. Her long silver-blonde hair framed a face of quiet authority, her piercing blue eyes studying him with an unreadable expression.

Lucian recognized her instantly.

Seraphina Vaelcrest.

She was a name spoken with both reverence and expectation within the Dominion. A warrior born from a noble bloodline, her reputation preceded her. The future of the Dominion, they called her.

And she was standing before him now.

"You're awake," she said, her voice calm yet firm.

Lucian met her gaze, noting the way she held herself—controlled, disciplined, without a single unnecessary movement. She was studying him just as much as he was studying her.

"How long?" he asked.

"Three days."

Three days? His injuries were severe, but he had expected to be out for no more than one.

As if reading his thoughts, Seraphina stepped closer. "The Grand Inquisitor ordered you to be kept under constant care. He was… displeased with your performance."

Lucian's jaw tensed. He had expected as much.

"He wants to see you," she continued. "Now."

Lucian pushed off the bed, ignoring the stiffness in his muscles. He would not show weakness—not here, not in front of her.

Seraphina watched him carefully as he straightened his uniform. There was no mockery in her gaze, no amusement at his state—just cold analysis.

"You're lucky," she said as they walked toward the Grand Inquisitor's chamber.

Lucian frowned. "Lucky?"

"To have survived," she replied simply.

There was no arrogance in her tone, no superiority—just fact.

Lucian didn't answer. He wasn't sure if he agreed.

—

The chamber was vast, lined with towering marble pillars and dim golden light. At the far end, standing beside an altar of Divine Etherion, was Malagar himself.

He did not turn when they entered.

"Kneel."

Lucian lowered himself without hesitation. Seraphina remained standing at his side, watching silently.

"Do you know why you are here?" Malagar's voice was sharp and unyielding.

"Because I failed."

"No," Malagar said. "Because you hesitated."

Silence.

The weight of that word settled over Lucian's shoulders like a chain.

"You allowed doubt to creep into your heart," Malagar continued. "That hesitation cost you a wound. Next time, it will cost you your life."

Lucian clenched his fists. He said nothing.

"You are strong, Lucian," Malagar said, stepping closer. "But strength means nothing without conviction. A warrior of the Holy Dominion must be absolute."

Lucian swallowed the words I understand. He had told himself he understood many times before.

"Your next mission will determine if you are still worthy of your rank."

Lucian's head lifted slightly. "My next mission?"

Malagar's gaze was piercing. "A rebellion has begun in the northern territories. You will go with Seraphina to crush it."

Lucian turned to look at her. She had remained silent this entire time, her expression unchanged.

"Do not fail me again, Lucian."

The words were spoken with finality. The judgment was passed.

—

As they stepped out of the chamber, Lucian let out a slow breath. Seraphina walked beside him, her steps measured, her posture as controlled as ever.

"The Grand Inquisitor does not tolerate weakness," she said.

"I am not weak."

She stopped, turning to face him.

"Then prove it."

Lucian met her gaze.

For a moment, the weight in his chest lessened.