Orin Alpheratz (15 years old) Location: Solaris Date: Year 873 / Crow Cycle (3) / Bard's Day (9)

  As Orin approached Hector, he immediately sensed something off. The proud, unyielding boy he remembered wasn’t standing there. In his place was someone… deflated. Resigned. Almost wounded.

  “Tch… so the rumors were true,” Hector muttered. His voice carried no challenge this time—only a bitter shade of disappointment. “I was hoping you wouldn’t come back.”

  Orin opened his mouth to respond—

  —but the two side doors of the hall slammed open at once.

  A wave of armored boots echoed through the marble. A dozen Church soldiers poured in from both corridors, quickly forming a tightening circle around Orin’s group.

  “What—?” Orin spun, disbelief flashing across his face. In seconds, they were surrounded. He snapped his gaze back to Hector. “What does this mean? Did you set this up?!”

  Hector shook his head slowly. No anger. No smirk. Just a heavy, defeated exhale.

  “I knew it would come to this…” he murmured. “Orin… why did you have to come back?”

  “You—!” Orin’s hand moved instinctively to his dagger. The sting of betrayal tightened in his chest—until he felt bodies press against his back.

  Sirius, Cor, Loki, Rick, Pyon, Padus—all clustered together as the soldiers advanced with drawn swords.

  “What do we do, Orin?” Sirius whispered, fear flickering in his eyes.

  Orin’s dagger flashed into his hand.

  “We fight if we have to,” he said, scanning the circle for a weak point. “There’s no other choice.”

  But just as the soldiers stepped forward for the final encirclement—

  “I see I have no other option,” Hector said abruptly, lifting his voice. “So… this is what you meant.”

  Orin blinked. What?

  Hector looked past him, staring directly at one of the soldiers with a strange firmness.

  “I’m willing to make a deal with you, Morlem.”

  A gravelly, mocking laugh rose from the ranks. The bald soldier Orin had noticed earlier stepped forward, arms crossed, looking far too pleased.

  “Knew you’d come around, Hector,” Morlem said. “Your cooperation is essential to us.”

  Orin’s confusion deepened. “Hector… what is he talking about?”

  Hector didn’t look at him.

  “Tell your men to fall back,” Hector said firmly. “And let Orin leave. Only then will you have my sword.”

  Morlem stroked his chin with theatrical amusement. “A fair trade.” He raised a hand, signaling his men to halt. “Though I can’t imagine why you’d let the boy go. You know you’ll have to face him someday… especially now that you’ve learned the truth about his origins.”

  A cold shiver stabbed down Orin’s spine. My… origins?

  He heard his friends gasp quietly behind him, but none dared speak.

  Hector finally turned toward Orin—his expression torn and heavy.

  “There’s… so much I don’t understand,” he said quietly. “Someday, maybe, I’ll get the answers. But right now… I just don’t want to regret this decision.”

  Orin could only stare. The Hector he’d known—proud, unyielding, stubbornly loyal—was standing before him making a choice he couldn’t comprehend.

  Then Hector straightened, and a shadow of his old steel returned to his eyes.

  “But listen well, Orin,” he said. “From this moment on, my sword serves the Empire. If you ever return here… under an enemy banner…”

  His hand dropped to his weapon.

  “…I will have no choice but to fight you.”

  Morlem let out a low, malicious laugh.

  “I think you’ll regret this sooner rather than later,” he said, the words dripping with spite. “And when that day comes, be prepared—because I’ll make you work three times as hard as punishment.”

  Hector didn’t respond. His silence said enough.

  Orin tried to meet his eyes, desperate for clarity, but Hector kept looking away. Finally, Orin’s voice cracked through the tension.

  “Hector… what happened to you?”

  This time, Hector looked straight at him. His expression was tired—far older than his years.

  “A lot has happened… too much, too fast,” he said quietly. “Honestly, Orin… I hope you stay out of this. I really do. I don’t want us to end up on opposite sides.”

  “Hector…” Orin’s throat tightened. He wanted to speak—about Solaris, about the princess, about everything—but surrounded by Church soldiers and danger closing in, nothing came out.

  “Go,” Hector said, stepping aside and pushing open the main doors. “There’s someone outside who wants to say goodbye. I’ll take care of things here.”

  Orin hesitated—but Hector’s expression left no room for argument. It wasn’t anger. It was resolve.

  “Everyone, move,” Orin murmured.

  One by one, his companions slipped past the ring of soldiers. Orin glanced back before crossing the threshold. Hector gave him a firm nod—an unspoken promise. Meanwhile Morlem watched them leave with a poisonous smirk, as if savoring secrets only he knew.

  A chill of unease clawed at Orin’s stomach.

  Not now. Just get out.

  The night air hit him like a bucket of cold water. His group was waiting outside—but so was another figure he immediately recognized.

  “Perseus!” Orin called out, genuine relief softening his usually guarded voice.

  Perseus crossed his arms with a sigh. “So Hector’s plan worked… or rather, the Church’s plan to recruit him.”

  “The Church’s plan?” Cor and Sirius echoed, as lost as Orin.

  “What’s going on?” Orin demanded.

  Perseus shook his head. “I don’t know the full details. But ever since the Church seized the Academy, they’ve been trying to recruit Hector. Apparently he’s… valuable to them. Very valuable.”

  “And they used Orin’s return to force him,” Sirius muttered, as the realization struck him.

  Perseus nodded grimly. “Yes.”

  “But that makes no sense,” Orin said. “You were there during the last incident. Hector wanted nothing to do with helping us. He even tried to turn us over to the guards. Why change his mind now?”

  Perseus thought for a moment before answering.

  “This is just my theory,” he said. “But… the Church of Luminia recently declared several members of the League of Knights as traitors. I don’t know whether that includes your father… or Hector’s father. But if it does, then his hesitation, his confusion, and everything you saw in there makes perfect sense.”

  The words struck Orin harder than he expected.

  His father, stationed far to the east, had been absent from his life for months. If he’d been targeted by the Church—if Hector had heard news Orin hadn’t—then everything suddenly aligned.

  “Be that as it may… Hector refused every threat and every form of pressure the Church threw at him,” Perseus continued. “Until today. I think he finally realized that, sooner or later, they would force him to give in—and when he saw what awaited you, he probably decided this was the one moment he could use his surrender to buy your freedom.”

  Orin lowered his head, staring at the ground, unable to speak. For years he had seen Hector as a rival… or worse, as someone who despised him. And even knowing Hector’s resentment wasn’t entirely mutual, he never imagined he would go this far. Sacrificing himself—for him.

  “I can’t help feeling responsible for all of this…” Orin whispered.

  “Don’t,” Perseus cut in firmly. “Hector didn’t do it out of guilt. I think he’s finally beginning to see what I saw the day we saved those sorcerers… that the Church is hiding something big. And maybe—just maybe—he thinks he’ll be more useful acting from the inside.”

  It didn’t erase the weight in Orin’s chest, but it softened it—just enough for him to breathe.

  “Anyway,” Perseus said, eyeing the rest of the group, “you should leave. The Academy’s no longer safe for you. You might avoid attention in the dark, but there will still be Church patrols between here and the main road.”

  “You’re right,” Orin said. But a thought hit him. “Perseus… how did you and Hector even know I’d come back? I haven’t been here long.”

  Perseus’s expression darkened instantly.

  “Morlem,” he said bitterly. “He saw you after the meeting. Instead of capturing you himself, he told Hector about his plan to take you in—unless Hector pledged himself to the Church. I was with him when it happened.” His jaw clenched. “Those bastards have no shame. You need to run, Orin. A snake like Morlem won’t think twice about breaking his word.”

  “…I understand.” Orin bowed his head. “Thank you—for everything. I hope you can find Draco and the others.”

  “I will,” Perseus said, raising a hand in farewell. “Go.”

  Orin turned to Loki and Rick, ready to leave—when Sirius and Cor stepped forward for one last goodbye.

  “Well… guess this is it, Leader.” Sirius forced a grin, though his voice cracked. “Damn it, I told myself I wouldn’t cry. We’ll meet again, you hear me?”

  “Next time,” Cor added, sadness softening her usually sharp eyes, “I promise the Church won’t be in our way. Travel safely, Orin.”

  “You two as well,” Orin said, gripping both their shoulders. “Stay safe… please.”

  After their farewells, he joined Loki and Rick—who had already said goodbye to Pyon and Padus. Orin took one last look at his friends as they disappeared toward the dormitories.

  “Let’s go,” he said, forcing confidence into his voice despite the turmoil inside.

  The three slipped into the night.

  “Do you think we’ll be alright?” Loki asked, uncertainty creeping into his tone.

  “We’ll have to take our chances,” Orin replied. “There’s no turning back now.”

  “The path looks really dark,” Rick murmured, sounding nervous.

  “That’s perfect,” Orin said. “For now, we stay unseen. No fighting. We’ll get as far from the Academy as we can—and rest once we find somewhere safe.”

  With those words, the three boys—silent as shadows—began their swift march toward the West Gate, disappearing into the dark road ahead.