Rae van Daleon – The Roots of the Storm
by Lea von Löwenstein
Chapter 27: Waiting in Shadows
The days passed with an agonizing slowness, each one a blur of training, observation, and whispered plans. Alric’s letter was sent with as much discretion as possible, smuggled through an old contact in the Scola’s logistical network. Now, all they could do was wait for a response from the Inquisition—if one even came.
But waiting wasn’t an excuse for idleness.
Rae pushed her team harder than ever, drilling them in the skills they’d need for their inevitable return to the depths. Stealth exercises, unarmed combat, and team coordination consumed their evenings, leaving them exhausted but sharper than before. The air in their chamber was thick with tension, but beneath it was an unspoken determination. They would be ready.
The First Sign
On the third night after the letter was sent, Alric returned to the chamber late, his expression tense. He carried a folded piece of parchment, the wax seal already broken.
“They responded,” he said, his voice low.
The group gathered around as Alric unfolded the letter. The handwriting was precise, almost clinical, and the words carried the unmistakable authority of the Inquisition:
“Your message has been received and deemed worthy of further inquiry. Remain silent and await further instruction. Any deviation will be met with severe consequences. The light of the Emperor burns away all falsehoods.”
Rae’s stomach tightened as she read the words. The Inquisition’s interest was both a blessing and a curse. They had taken the bait, but their presence would bring scrutiny they couldn’t afford.
“What does ‘further instruction’ mean?” Soren asked nervously.
“It means they’re watching us,” Celestine said darkly. “And if we make one wrong move, we’re as good as dead.”
Rae folded the letter carefully and handed it back to Alric. “We stick to the plan. We keep our heads down and prepare for whatever comes next. Until then, we keep this to ourselves.”
The Scola Shifts
The following days brought a noticeable change to the atmosphere of the Scola. Patrols grew more frequent, instructors seemed more on edge, and rumors of disappearances circulated among the novices. No one spoke openly about it, but Rae could feel the tension building like a storm.
One evening, as the group gathered for another training session, Tyren approached Rae, his cogitator in hand. His face was pale, his usual confidence replaced by unease.
“I’ve been monitoring the maintenance logs,” he said. “Something’s happening down there. Increased activity in the lower levels—orders for supplies, reports of Servitor malfunctions. It’s like they’re preparing for something.”
Rae frowned, her mind racing. The cultists were becoming bolder. Whatever they were planning, it wouldn’t wait for the Inquisition to act.
“We need to go back,” Rae said, her voice steady. “We can’t sit here while they tighten their grip.”
Celestine shook her head. “Are you serious? We don’t even know if the Inquisition is coming, and you want to go back down there?”
“We don’t have a choice,” Rae replied. “The longer we wait, the stronger they get. If we don’t act now, it might be too late for Talia—and for us.”
Marcus nodded, his expression grim. “Rae’s right. If they’re preparing for something, we need to find out what it is. Waiting isn’t an option anymore.”
A Descent with Purpose
That night, the group prepared for their return to the lower levels. This time, they moved as a unit, their movements silent and precise. Each of them carried weapons, makeshift gear, and a grim determination. They knew the risks, but the stakes had never been higher.
Rae led the way, her flashlight cutting through the darkness as they navigated the labyrinthine tunnels. The air grew colder the deeper they went, the faint hum of machinery replaced by an eerie silence.
As they approached the bloodstained door, Rae signaled for the group to stop. The door was slightly ajar, and the faint glow of flickering red light spilled into the corridor.
“They’ve been here,” Rae whispered, her voice barely audible. “Stay close. Stay quiet.”
The group moved forward, their breaths shallow as they entered the chamber. The sight that greeted them sent a chill through Rae’s spine.
The Cult’s Ascension
The pit was no longer empty. Chains hung from the ceiling, their ends embedded in the writhing mass of flesh and metal below. The creature growled softly, its glowing yellow eyes scanning the room with an almost sentient malice.
Around the pit, a circle of cultists knelt in reverence, their voices rising in a low, guttural chant. The symbols on the floor pulsed with a sickly light, and the air was thick with the acrid stench of blood and decay.
Rae’s gaze locked onto a figure chained to the far wall—Talia. Her head hung low, her body limp, but Rae could see the faint rise and fall of her chest. She was alive.
“We have to get her out,” Soren whispered, his voice trembling.
“Not yet,” Rae replied, her mind racing. “We need to understand what they’re doing first.”
Tyren moved closer, his cogitator humming softly as he recorded the scene. “They’re summoning something,” he said, his voice barely audible. “The symbols, the chanting—it’s a ritual. And that thing in the pit is the key.”
Rae’s jaw tightened. They were outnumbered and outmatched, but they couldn’t leave without a plan. She turned to her team, her voice low but firm.
“We’ll come back for Talia,” she said. “But first, we need to disrupt whatever they’re doing. If we can sabotage the ritual, we can weaken them—and that thing.”
Celestine nodded, her expression grim. “Let’s make it count.”
The Shadows Watch
As the group retreated from the chamber, Rae felt the weight of unseen eyes pressing down on her. The cultists were strong, but the shadows of the Scola held secrets even they didn’t fully understand.
Rae’s resolve hardened. They would face the cult, the creature, and the Inquisition itself if necessary. The Emperor’s light would burn away the darkness—but only if they survived long enough to summon it.
