Loir sat there for a long time. The infirmary was quiet, save for the distant echo of footsteps beyond the heavy doors. His fingers curled against the sheets, his mind still foggy, still grasping at the edges of something that wasn’t there.
He had been in the cathedral last night. He knew that much. He had seen something. A figure draped in black armor, wings stretching into the dim candlelight. A hidden passage. A feeling, cold and sharp, pressing into his chest.
But the memory… it wasn’t there. Just the hollow sensation of knowing it should be.
His gaze drifted to the bedside table. The water Bishop Aeron had left for him was still untouched. He reached for it slowly, his fingers brushing against the cool glass. He took a sip, the liquid easing the dryness in his throat.
The door creaked open again. This time, it wasn’t Aeron.
A young woman stepped inside, carrying a tray of herbs and linen. She was dressed in the modest robes of a healer, her dark hair tied back neatly. She glanced up and startled slightly when she saw him awake.
Healer: "Oh! You’re up. That’s good."
Loir blinked at her.
Loir: "You sound surprised."
She hesitated before setting the tray down beside him.
Healer: "You were out for a whole day. Bishop Aeron said you’d wake soon, but… you looked pale this morning. Thought it might take longer."
Loir hummed in response, rubbing his temple. A whole day…
The healer unwrapped a small bundle of herbs, her movements efficient, practiced.
Healer: "You should eat soon. Your body needs strength to recover."
Loir: "Right…"
She glanced at him, as if studying him for a moment. Then, softly--
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Healer: "Do you remember what happened?"
Loir’s fingers twitched against his knee. His gaze flicked to her, sharp and searching, but she wasn’t prying. Just… curious.
He exhaled slowly.
Loir: "No."
The word sat heavy in the air.
He could feel the weight of a missing piece inside his mind, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. It wasn’t just forgetting it was something ripped away.
The healer didn’t press. She just nodded, gathering a small cup of crushed herbs and mixing them into a warm tonic.
Healer: "Drink this. It’ll help with the headache."
Loir took it without a word, the bitter taste settling on his tongue.
His eyes drifted toward the window, where the evening sun was beginning to set again. Another night.
And the unease sitting in his chest told him that whatever had happened beneath the cathedral… wasn’t finished.
The warmth of the tonic did little to chase away the cold settling in Loir’s chest. As the healer gathered her things, he leaned back against the pillows, his mind restless.
A full day had passed. A full day, and all he had was an empty space where a memory should be.
Loir: "Has anyone else come looking for me?"
The healer paused, hands stilling over the tray. She hesitated, then shook her head.
Healer: "No. Just Bishop Aeron."
That… wasn’t normal.
Kyren should have barged in by now, lecturing him about skipping training. Maybe even bringing a plate of food to shove in his face while scowling. But there had been no sign of him. No sign of anyone from the training grounds.
Loir set the empty cup aside and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His body still ached, but the dizziness had dulled. He could move. That was enough.
The healer frowned.
Healer: "You shouldn’t push yourself--"
Loir: "I’m fine."
She didn’t argue, but he could feel her eyes on him as he stood. His balance wavered for half a second before he steadied himself.
Too much time had been wasted already.
He didn’t bother changing out of the simple tunic and trousers the infirmary had given him. His usual clothes , his gear , were nowhere in sight. Another bad sign.
Loir: "I need to go."
The healer sighed, but there was no real fight in her voice.
Healer: "At least take some bread before you pass out again."
Loir smirked faintly.
Loir: "I’ll survive."
He stepped past her, out into the hall. The air was cooler outside the infirmary, the stone corridors dimly lit by the golden glow of lanterns. It was quiet. Too quiet.
The usual murmur of passing templars, the distant clash of training swords , none of it was there.
His unease sharpened.
Something was wrong.
Loir moved through the halls with careful steps, keeping to the edges where the torchlight didn’t quite reach. He didn’t know why he was being cautious, only that his instincts screamed at him to be.
As he rounded the corner near the western wing, familiar voices reached his ears.
Kyren: "I don’t care what the Bishop said! Loir should’ve woken up by now--"
???: "Lower your voice. If you cause trouble, it’ll only draw more attention."
Loir’s steps slowed.
Kyren stood near the archway leading to the training courtyard, his arms crossed, tension clear in his stance. Across from him, another templar older, more composed , spoke in hushed tones.
Loir exhaled.
Loir: "You sound worried about me, Kyren. Didn’t know you had it in you."
Kyren turned so fast he nearly knocked over the other knight. His eyes widened for half a second before he scowled.
Kyren: "Loir, you-- ,where have you been?"
He stopped, looking him over, then scoffed.
Kyren: "You look like shit."
Loir smirked.
Loir: "Good to see you too."
The older templar studied him carefully, but Loir ignored the scrutiny. His focus was on Kyren.
Loir: "How bad is it?"
Kyren’s jaw clenched.
Kyren: "You were missing for an entire night, Loir. No one saw you leave, no one saw you return. And now the cathedral is crawling with Templars. You tell me how bad it is."
Loir exhaled sharply.
So he had been missing. Not just unconscious gone.
That explained the ache in his bones, the exhaustion lingering beneath his skin.
It also meant whatever had happened beneath the cathedral… someone knew.
And they didn’t want him remembering.