Three days passed quietly. Too quietly.
Varyan trained with Oblivion's Edge every night. Seris taught Tobin how to mask his fragnt resonance. The boy was clumsy but eager—his ability seed to be sothing related to speed. He could move faster than normal when he concentrated.
[Crumb Sense: multiple Order and Chaos signatures in the academy. All neutral. No hostile movent.]
But the silence was a lie. Varyan felt it in his bones.
On the fourth night, he returned to his closet-dormitory to find a package on his cot.
Wrapped in black cloth. No note.
He unwrapped it carefully, dagger ready.
Inside: a Chaos stalker's collar—leather, studded with iron, still faintly cold. And a folded piece of paper.
He unfolded it. One sentence, written in what looked like frozen blood:
*"Return what you stole, or I'll take what you love."*
[Quest updated: "The Lord Harvest's Response" – Survive the coming retaliation. Reward: unknown. Warning: High probability of attack within 48 hours.]
Varyan's blood turned to ice.
What had they stolen? Venn's notes? The Chaos shards? The sword?
No. The Lord Harvest didn't care about things. He cared about power.
*"Return what you stole"* – the fragnts Venn had harvested. The jars of glowing shards. Varyan had taken one as a trophy—a single Chaos shard, now sealed in a lead container hidden in the scriptorium.
That's what the Lord Harvest wanted back.
"I'll take what you love."
Varyan had nothing. No family, no friends—except Seris. And Tobin, now.
They were in danger.
He ran to the scriptorium.
Seris and Tobin were there, practicing. Tobin was trying to light a candle with his fragnt—unsuccessfully.
"We have a problem," Varyan said, holding up the collar and the note.
Seris read it. Her face went pale. "He knows where you sleep."
"He knows where *we* all are. We need to move. Now."
They gathered their belongings—the sword, the book, the ring, the Chaos shard, the keys. Everything.
"Where can we go?" Tobin asked, his voice high with fear.
"The old chapel," Seris said. "It's abandoned. No one goes there. And it has Order wards built into the foundation—old ones, from before the academy was built."
"Wards that might stop a Chaos stalker?"
"Maybe. It's better than your closet."
They ran through the servant's passages, Varyan leading, Seris watching the rear, Tobin in the middle. The boy was faster than he looked—his fragnt helped.
The chapel was at the far end of the academy, near the eastern wall. It had been sealed for decades, ever since a student died there under mysterious circumstances.
Varyan picked the lock. The door swung open with a groan.
Inside, the chapel was cold but dry. Wooden pews covered in dust. An altar at the far end, with a faded painting of the Dragon Gods.
[Order barrier detected: weak but present. Estimated effectiveness against Chaos entities: 40%.]
"Better than nothing," Varyan said.
They set up camp behind the altar, hidden from the door. Varyan took first watch.
He sat with Oblivion's Edge across his knees, staring at the door.
*I'll take what you love.*
He had never let himself love anything. It was too dangerous. Love was a weakness that enemies exploited.
But sohow, despite his best efforts, he had started to care. About Seris. About Tobin. Even about Lira, the rchant's
daughter who sat with him at als.
The Lord Harvest knew.
And he was coming.
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