Nineteen and Orphaned, My Siblings in Our Cult Wanted Me Dead For My Inheritance
The rejection from the High Council left me numb. I walked back to my quarters, the communal path feeling unfamiliar, every face I passed seeming to hold a judgment. The words of Elder Elias, gentle yet firm, echoed in my ears: “seek spiritual guidance from Elder Silas.” The irony was a bitter taste.
A faint tap on my door that evening startled me. I rarely had visitors now. Cautiously, I opened it a crack. It was Kaelen, her face a pale, strained mask. She clutched a small, nondescript device in her hand, her eyes darting nervously around the empty path.
“Elara,” she whispered, her voice urgent. “Can I come in?”
I hesitated, the memory of her complicity still fresh, the Council’s dismissal of her testimony ringing in my ears. But something in her desperation, in the way she held that device, compelled me. I opened the door wider.
She slipped inside, moving quickly to the center of the room before turning to face me. “They dismissed you, didn’t they?” she asked, not waiting for an answer. “The Council. I saw their faces when you left. And Jorah and Lyra were practically preening.”
I nodded, sinking onto the edge of my bed. “They said there was no tangible proof. And they mentioned your ‘unreliability’.” My voice was flat.
Kaelen winced, her shoulders slumping. “I knew they would. Lyra made sure to remind me about my secret, just in case I got any ideas. But Elara,” she leaned forward, her voice dropping, “I have to show you this.”
She held out the small device, a cheap, older model of a communal tablet, but definitely not one I recognized. A burner device. My heart gave a little lurch.
“What is this?” I asked, my gaze fixed on it.
“Rhys’s,” Kaelen said, her eyes wide. “He kept it for his… his real plans. The ones he didn’t want Elder Silas or even Jorah to know the full extent of. I found it, a few days ago, when he asked me to organize some papers for him. It was hidden in a loose floorboard in their quarters.”
I took the device, my fingers tracing its smooth, cold surface. “Rhys’s plans? What are you talking about?”
“He’s the true mastermind, Elara,” Kaelen insisted, a fresh wave of tears welling up. “Jorah just wanted control of the funds for himself, but Rhys… he wants more. He wants to rise in the Everlight Way. He sees your stewardship as a barrier, and your prime quarters as a prize for him and Lyra.”
“But I saw messages with Jorah’s name on them in the other folder,” I said, confused. “He was involved in the ‘spiritual journey’ tactics.”
“Yes, but Rhys was the one pushing the extreme versions,” Kaelen clarified. “He convinced Jorah they were necessary. He’s always ten steps ahead. Jorah just sees the immediate gain. Rhys sees the long game. And the messages on this,” she gestured to the burner device, “are far more explicit. Far more chilling.”
I stared at the screen. It was locked. “How did you get into it?”
“Rhys uses the same pattern for everything,” Kaelen admitted, a faint flush rising on her cheeks. “His birth year, repeated twice. He’s not as clever as he thinks. I memorized it weeks ago, just in case.”
A flicker of hope ignited within me, fragile but real. This was physical evidence. Not just my word, or Kaelen’s discredited testimony. I quickly entered the pattern. The screen unlocked, revealing a simple interface, and a folder simply labeled “Feast.”
“He was planning something big for the Feast of Renewal,” Kaelen whispered, her voice trembling. “He said it would be your… permanent removal. From influence, from the funds. He wouldn’t let anyone stand in his way.”
My fingers shook as I opened the folder. Inside were dozens of text messages, conversations between Rhys and various unknown contacts, some with Lyra, some with other community members whose names I recognized, some just with placeholder names. The sheer volume of them was overwhelming.
I scrolled through, my eyes scanning the chilling exchanges. “Feast of Renewal,” “public accusation,” “witnesses cultivated,” “worldly pursuits,” “outcast.” The words leaped out at me, each one a dagger.
“He’s planning to publicly accuse you,” Kaelen confirmed, as if reading my mind. “At the Feast. Of mismanaging the funds. Of using your prime quarters for forbidden activities. He’s been cultivating people to back his story.”
My breath caught. “Forbidden activities? What ‘forbidden activities’?”
“He’s twisting things,” Kaelen explained, wringing her hands. “He knows you occasionally read books from outside the Everlight library, that you sometimes listen to music that isn’t hymns. He’s going to portray that as ‘worldly pursuits,’ distractions from your spiritual duty. He’s even talking about twisting your parents’ legacy, saying they would have wanted the funds released for wider community use, implying you’re dishonoring them.”
The venom of it. To twist my private moments of seeking solace, my small ways of connecting to the wider world beyond the Everlight, into a public condemnation. To desecrate my parents’ memory. This wasn’t just about money anymore. It was about destroying my character, my reputation, my very soul within the community.
“This is… monstrous,” I whispered, the words catching in my throat.
“He specifically mentions the Feast of Renewal,” Kaelen said, pointing to a message. “He wants to do it then because everyone will be gathered. It’s the biggest event of the year. Maximum impact.”
My eyes scanned the date. The Feast was in less than a week. A cold dread settled deep in my bones. Rhys wasn’t just speculating; he had a concrete, escalating plan. A public humiliation, meticulously crafted, with a looming deadline. This wasn’t just a threat to my stewardship; it was a threat to my very existence within the Everlight Way. I would be outcast, stripped of everything. And he was clearly escalating to “permanently remove” my influence. The euphemism was terrifyingly close to the one Rhys had used about me “finding my way to the Everlight soon.”
“He’s dangerous, Elara,” Kaelen said, her voice shaking. “He doesn’t care who he hurts. And I can’t let him do this. I’ve done enough already.”
I looked at the burner device in my hand. This was the proof. This was the tangible evidence the High Council claimed I lacked. And it was far more damning than anything I could have imagined. Kaelen, the unlikely ally, had delivered something that could shatter Rhys’s carefully constructed façade. But how to use it? Against a man who had already manipulated an Elder and secured the Council’s dismissal of my claims? And with the Feast of Renewal just days away, I didn’t have much time. I had to think fast, act decisively. The game had just changed.
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