Chapter 4

Word of Kai' s unofficial exhibition spread.

Not through the usual art channels, but through the city' s undercurrents.

Whispers in alleyways, posts on obscure forums.

People were intrigued by the "junkyard artist" and his glowing creations.

I felt a flicker of pride, quickly suppressed.

Don' t get complacent, I told myself.

Then, a formal invitation arrived.

Not for Kai. For me.

From Chancellor Alistair.

My stomach tightened.

He knew. How could he know?

I went to his office. Seraphina was already there, looking serene.

"Scarlett," Alistair said, his smile benign. "I hear you' ve been... busy."

His eyes held a knowing glint.

"I' ve been exploring different forms of devotion, Chancellor," I said, keeping my voice even.

"Indeed," he said. "Your work with this... Kai. It' s unconventional. But the reports I' ve received speak of a genuine impact."

My heart hammered. Reports?

"In fact," Alistair continued, steepling his fingers. "His unique art has captured the attention of the City Arts Council. They' re offering him a major commission, a public installation."

This was... unexpected.

A public installation was huge. Beyond anything I' d imagined for Kai.

"That' s wonderful news," I said, trying to sound sincere.

"It is," Alistair agreed. "And it speaks to the power of true inspiration."

He paused, his gaze shifting to Seraphina.

"Seraphina, my dear, your quiet encouragement of unique talents continues to bear fruit. Your ability to see potential where others see only refuse... it is a true gift."

My blood ran cold.

No.

Not again.

Seraphina inclined her head. "I only try to follow the Light, Chancellor. Kai' s spirit resonated with a need for gentle guidance."

Gentle guidance? She' d never even met him.

"The Arts Council specifically mentioned your subtle influence, Seraphina," Alistair said, his voice full of warmth for her. "How your belief in him, conveyed through... intermediaries... gave him the final push he needed."

Intermediaries.

Lies. All lies.

My carefully constructed plan, my secret triumph, was crumbling.

"Scarlett," Alistair turned to me, his expression now tinged with disappointment. "While your dedication is admirable, it seems you once again struggled to elevate your efforts into true spiritual Grace. Perhaps your methods were too... direct. Too unrefined."

He was twisting it, just like with Ethan.

Making my direct involvement a flaw, and Seraphina' s non-existent influence a virtue.

"The commission is a testament to Seraphina' s spiritual reach," Alistair declared.

I felt sick.

The public announcement of the commission was a grand affair.

Kai stood awkwardly on the stage, blinking in the lights.

He tried to speak, to thank me.

But before he could, a City Arts Council member, a known sycophant of Alistair, stepped forward.

He praised Kai' s raw talent.

And then he praised Seraphina.

"Her divine insight," the man gushed, "her unwavering, though unseen, support for Mr. Kai, has truly unlocked his genius."

Seraphina, looking angelic, accepted the applause.

I stood in the crowd, invisible.

My work, my sacrifice, erased.

Later, Alistair summoned me again.

"Scarlett," he said, his voice soft, almost pitying. "This pattern is concerning. Your efforts, while sincere, seem to lack the... spiritual resonance needed for true Ascension."

He sighed. "I had such high hopes for you."

He then announced my "new assignment."

"To cultivate humility," he said. "You will be relocated to the Alms District. Live among the truly forgotten. Perhaps there, stripped of ambition, you will find a purer path."

The Alms District. The poorest, most desolate part of the city.

It was banishment, cloaked in spiritual jargon.

Just like before.

The despair was a cold, heavy weight.

I had changed my strategy, poured my soul into something new.

And still, they had stolen it. Still, they had crushed me.

Seraphina watched me leave Alistair' s office, a faint, triumphant smile on her lips.

She thought she had won. Again.

But this time, the despair was different.

It was colder. Sharper.

And beneath it, the rage burned hotter than ever.