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Chapter 14 - Blind Faith - The Protector of Velronia.

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Arc 1 - Blind Faith

Blind Faith - The Protector of Velronia.

Written by - Ellien S. Vorein

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Velronia breathed.

DONG.

High above the city, the old bell tower tolled — slow, deep, steady — a heartbeat Velronia had lived by for centuries.

Sunlight spilled over the market; merchants lifted their awnings; children chased each other along cobblestone paths. Peace sat gently over the city — balanced, earned — held up not by chance, but by the man walking through it.

Lucan.

He moved calmly, cloak swaying behind him—

—when someone slammed into him.

A sharp shoulder.

A heavy stride.

A cold brush of cloth.

Lucan blinked, steadying himself.

"Ah—my apologies," he said instinctively.

The woman didn't respond.

She walked past him without slowing, without looking back, without the faintest change in breath or tone.

Tight purple dress,

brown hooded cloak,

slow, exhausted steps,

and a faint scent of Lily of the valley drifting behind her.

No apology.

No recognition.

No acknowledgment of his voice.

She passed him the way someone passes a lamp post —

present, but irrelevant.

People always softened around him.

Always.

But she didn't.

Lucan's brow tightened, ready to speak—

DONG.

—but the crowd surged around him.

"Sir Lucan! Please—an autograph!"

"Guardian Lucan, sign this ribbon!"

"My daughter admires you!"

Lucan answered them politely, offering a calm, practiced smile — though the coldness of her shoulder still lingered faintly on his cloak.

When they finally stepped away, he exhaled—

—and felt something in his palm.

He opened it.

A pale lavender orchid rested there.

Fresh.

Perfect.

Impossible.

Lucan's stomach tightened.

A small thought crossed his mind — uncharacteristic, quiet:

How did I not notice her hand move?

He scanned the crowd — sharp, alert—

Nothing.

No purple dress.

No brown hood.

Not even the Lily-of-the-valley scent.

DONG.

He walked forward, still thinking about the orchid —

and slipped naturally into what Velronia expected of him.

"Sir Lucan… could you help me?"

A woman struggled with a basket.

Lucan lifted it with one hand.

"Of course."

Six steps later—

"Guardian Lucan, my window latch is stuck again."

He freed it effortlessly.

"There you go."

A woman tripped on a loose stone.

Lucan caught her immediately.

"Careful. Lean on me."

He escorted her up the hill to her door, steady and patient.

Small chores.

Easy tasks.

Nothing heroic.

But everyone asked him.

In a narrow alleyway, half-hidden by shade, the same woman watched him silently.

Beneath her hood, her lips shifted —

not a smile, not a frown.

Something colder.

Her voice drifted faintly:

"…like always… you help them, huh."

Not mocking.

Not admiring.

Just tired.

Lucan continued on.

A child suddenly cried out — scraped knee, bleeding.

Lucan knelt beside him.

"Let me see."

A soft glow sealed the wound.

The boy sniffed and smiled.

"It doesn't hurt anymore!"

Lucan stood.

From the alleyway, unseen, her voice slipped out again:

"…how long did it take you to notice?"

Her gaze lowered to the orchid in his cloak pocket.

DONG.

"GUARDIAN LUCAN!"

A scream shattered the square.

A mother pushed through the crowd, shaking, eyes red with panic.

"Please—my son—he's missing—he was right here—he's gone—PLEASE!"

Lucan steadied her.

"What was he wearing?"

"A green scarf—brown shoes—he's six—PLEASE—!"

"You did the right thing calling for me."

The air tightened.

Light gathered beneath his boots.

He didn't leap.

He flew.

Astreions were born with super strength, super speed, and super durability.

They could fly — and co-existed with the people of Velronia as natural guardians.

BOOM.

DONG.

The ground cracked as he ascended — a shockwave rolling through the market.

Barrels rattled.

Women caught their skirts.

Men shielded children.

Dust rippled outward.

But not a single complaint rose.

Because it was Lucan.

His full black suit compressed against his muscles as he climbed, outlining every refined line beneath the fabric. His white cloak burst open, snapping violently behind him, stabbing upward like a spear of light.

Velronia's eyes lifted.

"Guardian Lucan…"

"He'll find the boy."

"He always does."

Hovering above the rooftops, Lucan scanned the entire city.

The pale lavender orchid pressed lightly against his chest.

He ignored it.

Then he shot forward —

a streak of black and white ripping through the sky.

DONG.

Somewhere below, in the maze of streets,

a frightened child cried out for help.

The hero Velronia trusted most.

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