The bell rang once. That was all it took, no announcement, no procession, no warning.
One clear, resonant toll that cut through the cathedral grounds and sank straight into Eron’s bones.
He froze mid-step.
Around him, the training yard reacted instantly. Church knights stopped as one, blades lowering, voices dying in their throats. Even the wind seemed to hesitate, as if unsure whether it was allowed to move.
Eron felt his chest tighten. That bell wasn’t ringing for prayer, it was signaling judgment.
A senior knight approached, helmet tucked beneath his arm, expression carefully neutral. “Eron Valen,” he said. “By order of the High Synod, you are summoned to the Inner Basilica.”
The Inner Basilica? Eron swallowed. No trainees were ever called there. Not unless...He stopped the though
