Chapter 11 – The Oathkeepers' Flame
The Oathkeepers' hideout lay beneath the charred ruins of an old tavern, forgotten since the last purge swept Durelin. Lucian and Selvara slipped through a narrow cellar door, sealing it behind them before descending a stairway swallowed in shadow.
The air was thick with smoke and tallow. Dozens of candles lit the chamber, their flames flickering against stone walls painted with the sigil of a broken chain. Hooded figures looked up as the two entered, whispers echoing like restless ghosts.
At the chamber's center stood Kairon, the grizzled captain of the Oathkeepers. His armor bore no polish—scarred steel, patched leather, each mark a testament to survival. His gaze locked on Lucian, sharp as a drawn blade.
"You brought it?"
Lucian laid the ledger on the rough-hewn table. Its leather cover was scuffed from the struggle, but the sigil of the Radiant Sun still gleamed faintly on its surface. Selvara stepped beside him, her blade still wet with the enforcer's blood.
Kairon's hands were steady as he opened the book. The room hushed to silence, every rebel craning forward. Pages of neat script met their eyes—records of tithes, edicts, and beneath them… lists of names.
"Prisoners," Selvara murmured.
"No," Kairon said grimly. "Sacrifices."
The ledger catalogued those who had disappeared from the Gallows Square—children, artisans, entire families. Their fates were recorded in cold ink: offerings for "illumination," sealed by Maltherion's own decree.
A woman in the crowd broke down, her sobs tearing through the silence. Her brother's name was there. Others began to murmur in disbelief, outrage burning in their voices.
Kairon shut the book with a heavy thud. "This is the proof we've bled for. The Church claims to be the Radiant's mercy—yet they trade souls like coin." He looked at Lucian. "You've done more tonight than most manage in a lifetime."
Lucian said nothing. The weight of the ledger felt like iron pressing on his chest. He hadn't stolen it for justice. He had done it to weaken the Church, to carve a path for himself. Yet here these people looked at him as if he were their salvation.
Kairon raised his voice. "This is the flame that will light our rebellion. We will spread these truths through every province until even the High Father cannot smother the fire."
The chamber roared in approval, fists slamming against tables, voices uniting in a single cry:
"Break the chains!"
The fire of rebellion had been sparked.
And Lucian, whether he willed it or not, was standing in the center of its blaze.