Chapter 63: Heretic

The flight to the marshlands was long.

Instructor Sterling had said that it would take at least twenty four hours to reach their destination and currently they were in the eleventh hour with quite a few more hours to go. Thomas had long grown bored of looking out the window and watching the beauty of Samra. Mina was currently busy knitting, while Ryan and Lina were engaged in a conversation a few seats in front of them.

Julian seemed to have grown tired of his book and was now on his runetech device talking to someone, but if Thomas had to guess it would be Rei.

The creepy feeling of being watched never left. In fact, it seemed to grow even more intense the longer their journey took. Thomas decided to ignore it and think over everything.

’Why did Neher grant me his legacy?’

That single question bothered him, and then there was Neher’s cryptic warning.

"I know you want answers but you are still to weak to carry the burden of such knowledge, we will meet again when you grow stronger."

Those were Neher’s parting words, but what knowledge did he speak of, and why did he deem it a burden? These thoughts quickly spiraled into a bunch of other thoughts and soon enough he was deeply lost in his thoughts.

"Children, would you humor me?"

The deacon’s voice cut through the hushed murmurs of the cabin and brought him out of his thoughts. Everyone’s attention turned to him. He was sitting at the far back of the cabin, his features still obscured by the golden hood of his cloak.

"Good, you are all listening. I have a question for you all. What is the enemy of change?"

The cabin grew even more quiet. Even the three instructors all seemed to be deep in thought. Thomas thought about it long and hard but still failed to come up with an answer. Strangely, it was Mina who answered.

"Comfort."

The deacon nodded.

"That is correct, child. The enemy of change is comfort. The deep-seated human desire for familiarity, stability, and routine that makes the unknown that is change feel unsafe. So I have another question. How many of you here fear change?"

For a moment the students of Class 1-A appeared visibly confused. Then a High-blood girl with short green hair answered.

"It depends on what type of change it is."

The answer settled, and everyone in the cabin clearly thought the same thing.

"I see. Well, now tell me what type of person is labeled a heretic by the Holy Church?"

This time it was the High-blood student that had taken Mina. The boy had fully healed by now, but just looking at him made Thomas’s blood boil.

"People who spread false doctrines and try to sway the masses into worshipping false gods."

The deacon smiled under his hood. Thomas could feel it.

"There is a reason why the church does not entertain the idea of heretics. It is because they are like a wild flame, that if left alone they will burn the whole kingdom of Samra to the ground. That is why there are rules which are meant to be followed by every citizen, so that they will not be swayed by the change promised by these heretics. Heretics are like change, they are an existence that is not supposed to exist. They are like weeds in a beautiful garden that must be uprooted before they can fill the whole garden with their filth."

The deacon’s tone had a slight murderous intent to it which made even the High-bloods sweat.

"But can change be truly stopped?" Thomas asked absentmindedly.

The temperature in the cabin dropped immediately, and a dense bloodlust filled the whole cabin. Even the dragonling appeared to be affected as the mana beast almost buckled before stabilizing. The bloodlust retracted as soon as it came.

"If that is God’s will, yes it can," the deacon answered with a fatherly voice which made Thomas feel way more uncomfortable.

It appeared as though the deacon’s words were a warning to him. He had somehow managed to attract the eye of the church as Julian said, so now he wondered if their real objective was to kill him on this excursion. They could do it and say that a mana beast had done it and no one would question it. After having been in the same room as the deacon, he had noted that the High-bloods were afraid of the church and he wanted to know why.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, with the sense of being watched growing more and more intense by the second until his neck hairs were standing on end.

Hours passed and the atmosphere changed. Looking outside the window, Thomas saw their destination. The marshlands were coming into view. Remembering the instructor’s words, the man had said they were going to the middle of the marshlands. With an unknown variable in the mix, Thomas did not know what to do, but one thing he knew was that he was supposed to be careful and not to wander off alone or else.

The massive shadow of the Dragonling began to bank sharply toward the eastern perimeter, tilting the warm cabin slightly as it entered a lower altitude bracket.

Thomas adjusted the red armband around his sleeve, his dark eyes wide open as he watched the thick, toxic-green vapors of the wetlands rise through the glass window pane to meet the beast’s descending form.

"We are officially crossing the outer thresholds of the wild block," Instructor Cross’s gravelly voice boomed out from the front latch, his scarred face set into a rigid mask as he gripped the structural iron handrail. "The camp site is positioned exactly four miles deep into the primary fog layer. Prepare your individual supply packs immediately."

The high-blood students across the benches began to silently check their leather utility slots, their previous arrogant murmurs completely replaced by a tense, breathless focus as the deacon’s lingering presence continued to weigh heavily on their shoulders.

Thomas looked down at the dark obsidian runetech device Cecilia had thrown to him, his long fingers quietly tracing the complex, miniature gravity runes etched into the casing to check the interface. It was a high-level piece of technology from the restricted rings of the Metropolis, an artifact that shouldn’t even exist inside a lesser’s possession. He subtly pocketed the device inside his black jacket, his sharp intellect realizing that with the Holy Church monitoring his every single movement from the back seat, this lifeline would turn out to be his absolute fallback option if the environment took a sudden, fatal turn.

Mina slowly opened her hazel eyes as the creature’s massive leather wings violently flapped to break their vertical velocity, the heavy, swamp-damp air pressure outside causing the cabin walls to loudly groan. She offered Thomas a tight, supportive nod, her posture straightening as she adjusted her own black uniform jacket.

"The point registry will officially update the exact second your boots touch the ground," Instructor Sterling announced, his precise voice dropping into a cold octave as he readied the departure ladders. "Remember your positioning, Class 1-A. If you are reckless you will die before we can even save you."

Thomas stood up smoothly from the leather bench, his face remaining completely hard and smooth as glass as he stepped into line behind Ryan.