The night in the city was quieter than usual.
A strange stillness… as if something was being held in the chest of the air.
Luin walked slowly through the back alley, heading toward the dark market, where the voices of merchants blended with the echo of the poor. His face was pale, his eyes shifting from one shadow to another. For days now, he had felt something behind him. Not a person… but an intention, a watching will an unblinking eye.
He carried in his pocket a piece of cloth soaked with blood the remains of last night's incident.
It wasn't someone else's blood… it was his.
The Seal had begun to awaken during moments of danger, leaving traces even after it slept.
"I don't want to be tested tonight," he thought.
But it was never his choice.
⸻
Between the alleys, standing on the edge of an old stone wall, appeared a woman dressed in white.
She had no face only an ivory mask marked with a circular symbol where eyes intertwined with tongues of flame.
She spoke softly, her voice empty of emotion:
"The target has been located. He is not permitted to advance further."
Then two men emerged from behind her, cloaked in dark robes, holding tools that were not swords… but ritual instruments made to extract something from the body, not to kill it.
The Spirit Division.
One of them murmured:
"The first Seal is active. We'll take him alive… if possible."
⸻
Luin stood in the middle of the alley.
The voice came faint but from within:
"Run."
But he didn't.
His body froze. It wasn't fear alone… it was as if some hidden force anchored him in place.
His breath grew shallow. The Seal in his chest stirred, warning, stretching, trembling — alive.
One of the men stepped closer, extending his hand slowly.
"You are chosen, Luin. Don't make us harm you."
Luin wanted to shout, to flee, to do something
But another voice came, calm and mocking, from behind them:
"Harm? You people don't own anything but tongues wrapped in sacred paper."
⸻
They turned.
On a low wall stood Willem.
Plain in his appearance, ordinary in his clothes, but his eyes carried the kind of weight only those betrayed by faith could hold.
One of the men spoke:
"The living target… is now under the protection of the elder marked."
Willem smiled faintly.
"You're always one step too late."
Then he raised his hand.
⸻
What followed wasn't an explosion it was erasure.
The air twisted. The light dimmed. A spiral of ash poured from Willem's palm, veiling the alley in a gray haze.
Whispers of old incantations drifted with the wind, making the members of the Division clutch their chests and retreat.
"Fall back! We'll return at a better time!" the leader shouted, then hurled a small vial that burst into blue light, opening a side passage — and they vanished into the dark.
⸻
Silence returned… carrying the faint scent of burnt ash.
Luin sank to the ground, gasping.
Willem approached and offered his hand.
"I know you hate being saved… but you'll thank me later."
Luin took the hand and stood slowly.
"They're from the Church?"
Willem nodded.
"The White Church never moves on its own… it sends its black hands instead.
Those men? They're called the Spirit Division. Specialists in Seals — and in those who dare to break them."
Luin met his gaze.
"Why are you helping me??"
Willem was silent for a moment before replying:
"Because the Church took a friend from me once… and I won't let it take you too."
⸻
They sat on the roof of an old building overlooking the empty street.
The wind blew gently, moving the edge of Willem's coat.
Luin stayed quiet, staring at his trembling hand.
Willem spoke softly:
"The shaking will stay… every time you touch the shadows."
Luin said nothing.
Willem continued:
"When I opened my first Seal, I thought I'd died. Then I thought I'd been reborn.
In both cases… I wasn't myself."
Luin looked up.
"How many Seals have you opened?"
Willem laughed a laugh empty of joy.
"Let's just say the Church keeps my name in their red files."
He paused.
"I'm no saint, Luin… but I've lived long enough to know no one comes out of a Seal the same."
⸻
Luin asked:
"Why do you hate the Church?"
Willem didn't answer at once.
He pulled from his pocket a small strip of leather, carved with an old symbol three circles intertwined like ripples in water.
"This is all that's left of my friend."
"His name was Darin a dreamer, kind, faithful. He believed the Church could save him."
"He opened his first Seal under a priest's guidance. After that… we didn't know him anymore."
"The Church watched him. When he began to see more than he was allowed… he disappeared."
"I found only this piece… in a burned room."
⸻
Luin inhaled sharply.
Willem's voice grew quieter:
"Sometimes all you have left of the past… is a piece of skin."
Then he turned to him.
"And you? What made you break the silence? What made you open it?"
After a pause, Luin said:
"I didn't choose it. The voice chose me."
"Then… it felt like something ancient inside me woke up."
"And that thing… isn't entirely me."
⸻
Willem nodded, as if he'd known this feeling well.
"The Seal, Luin… isn't power. It's a door.
You didn't just open it you let what's behind it in."
Luin touched his left forearm, where the mark had first appeared.
"Can the door be closed?"
Willem chuckled softly.
"No one can close a door that opened itself."
⸻
A long silence.
Then Luin asked:
"What now?"
Willem stood.
"We move before they find us again. The Spirit Division never fails twice."
He turned, then added:
"You're not alone, Luin. Even if you don't know who you are yet… you're someone I won't leave behind."
⸻
Luin stayed seated after Willem left.
His eyes melted into the gray sky, and his voice came as a whisper:
"The closer I get to the truth…
the further I drift from myself."
⸻
The night was quiet too quiet.
The alleys that usually rang with the cries of drunkards and the growls of hungry dogs now seemed afraid to breathe.
Luin walked beside Willem, neither of them speaking.
Only their synchronized steps echoed softly as if their bodies knew where to go, even when their minds were lost elsewhere.
⸻
At last, Willem said in a faint voice, barely touching the air:
"The streets grow afraid when something unseen draws near."
Luin looked at him, but didn't answer.
Inside, the words felt hauntingly familiar.
⸻
They reached a narrow corner behind a cracked stone building and sat there as if they'd been there before.
Willem pulled out a stale loaf of bread, broke it in half, and handed one piece to Luin with a faint smile.
"Nothing unites people like bad bread."
Luin stared at it.
"Were you always alone?"
Willem tilted his head, thinking.
"I thought I was… until I lost someone."
⸻
Luin hesitated, then asked quietly:
"Someone like me?"
"Not like you… but with the same way of looking at the world."
Willem smiled though his eyes did not. There was weight in his tone, a sorrow steeped in old disappointment.
⸻
Then he suddenly lifted his head, sensing something.
"Did you feel that?"
Luin did.
A faint breeze strange, deliberate like someone brushing past unseen.
He whispered:
"Eyes… watching me from somewhere."
⸻
Something moved in the dark.
A shadow on the rooftop then another, and another.
Willem stood at once.
— "The Spirit Division…"
⸻
Luin glanced at him, confused.
Willem spoke quickly:
"A secret branch of the Church. They act only when a Seal begins to lose control."
He gripped Luin's shoulder.
"Stay behind me. One reckless move and they'll take you — and you'll never come back from where they take you."
⸻
But Luin didn't move.
Something inside him didn't want to run it wanted to see.
And more than that… to be seen.
⸻
In the distant dark, white eyes appeared pupil-less, glowing faintly as they watched.
One stepped forward, completely covered, the Church's mark engraved upon his mask: a circle enclosing a closed eye.
⸻
He spoke calmly:
"Luin… you've been classified as a controlled threat."
"We came to assess you not to harm you."
Willem laughed bitterly.
"Assessment, in their language, means disappearance. Don't fall for it."
⸻
Luin stood, confusion swirling in his chest.
"I… don't understand what's happening."
The masked figure replied:
"You won't. Not until you come with us."
Then, almost gently:
"You don't even know what lives inside you, do you?"
⸻
But before he could continue, Willem raised his hand and the ground cracked beneath their feet.
Dark energy, unlike the Seal, surged like living ink. One of the shadows from the Division fell instantly.
The others shouted, advancing.
⸻
Willem didn't turn as he said:
"Run. Now."
But Luin stayed still.
Something inside him was growing a metallic taste, a tremor in his left hand, and a new whisper.
⸻
"This… isn't the right time," said the voice beneath the skin.
"But he's coming."
⸻
End of Chapter Nine.