Chapter 36: Disgraced
"We will see the sun again."
It seems as if the archdemon was waiting for you to finish before moving. Though you're far from squeamish, you recoil slightly at the ancient form and its mockery of Mercy's gift. She merely raises a limb— revealing rotten bone and gold through her veil of light.
With an almost imperceptible wave of her fingers, you feel a wave of heat course past you and into your companions. There is a faint glow around all of their forms that deeply unsettles you, but the blood and wounds around their bodies abates through the light. Everyone is still unconscious, but life seems to come back into them.
You can't help yourself, and go to Ray's side the second that breath fills his lungs.
The archdemon's head tilts back. You recognize ecstasy when you see it. The sight makes your stomach turn. Your grip on Mercy's symbol tries to tighten further, but the metal is already dug deep into your skin. Instead you hold the pendant against your chest. "
Stop it. That's enough. Keep your word, demon. The Relic—"
A sigh escapes from the archdemon. Her form and the light around your friends relaxes. Your eyes dart between them, bracing for some sort of trap. "Don't try anything. You know I won't hesitate—"
The archdemon sounds as if she's smiling. She sighs again, mirrors your pose, and brings a hand to her chest.
Your heart drops.
She plunges a hand deep into her own chest. Light and gold eclipses her rotten form. You don't hesitate. There's no need to invoke Mercy's name for Her to hear your plea— but you want the archdemon to hear. You want this fallen leader to know what it means to call upon Her name.
"My restraint is my peace, but my peace shall be broken—!"
Bone and decay emerges from the archdemon's bosom. You pull one hand away from Mercy's symbol, shielding your eyes, and crying out.
"Goddess of compassion! Mother of relief! Come unto me! Grant me your protection—!"
You know the light of whatever she's produced would absolutely have blinded you, were it not for Mercy's protection. The light of the Goddess fills your vision, eclipsing that of the archdemon's and whatever she holds. You lower your hands, and look out with abject radiance.
"Mercy."
The archdemon holds forth an item in her outstretched hands that sears with such light, it is impossible to look upon with mortal eyes. Droplets of immaculate gold congeals forth from the archdemon's body, and nestles perfectly in between her own intertwined fingers. In her palms lies a locket of two hands pressed together in prayer. There is no chain. The item is untarnished and so utterly flawless that you do not doubt it's origin or purpose for a second.
She has Mercy's relic.
You take a knee and keep your hand to your holy symbol, afraid that your heart may stop. Head light, every beat in your chest skipping, breath quickened— it's all you can do to utter your thanks to the Goddess. Against Her symbol. Against the light and gold.
"The Gods are Merciful."
The archdemon slowly looks to you. "I have shown you this under the pretense that you will honor your word. You will see to my children."
It's hard to breathe. It's harder to see. Your friends are breathing behind you, and you know they will likely waken again soon— but you don't want to waste a second. This is Her symbol. Her Relic. This is the reason you've suffered. The reason you've endured.
>A) Don't let the relic out of your sight. You are sworn to uphold your word— to never break an oath you've made to another— but you can't permit this. Attack the archdemon and her children. Maintain your connection to Mercy, and take it by force. You can't risk half-measures here.
>1] Invoke Flesh. You'll need His strength.
>2] Invoke Spirit. To know your enemy is to conquer them.
>3] Invoke Agriculture. You're surrounded by grain. Let this demon's lair consume her.
>4] Invoke Vengeance. He may be at odds with Mercy, but Her compassion will certainly help you endure the strain of channeling Him.
>B] Keep your word. It is your bond. You also fear deeply for your ability to maintain your connection to the Goddess while committing sacrilege. What's more, you're confident that fighting these demons would mean certain death. You may have an unprecedented connection to the Gods, but you know when you're outnumbered. Permit the archdemon to put away the Relic, and uphold Mercy's tenets. See to this demon's children— knowing that she is beholden to help you in turn.
>C] Write-in.
Mercy courses through you, leaning hard into every inch of your frame. Your pulse skyrockets. Pleasure wraps around searing heat and light. Despite your fear— or perhaps because of it— forgiveness for this demon's transgressions falls from you like so much rain. There is no blood. Gold drips from your lips, reunited as you are with the Goddess of Compassion.
The prayer ends. Looking upon Her works, your voice is scarcely your own. You intermingle with Her light.
"We will. You have Our word."
The archdemon pulls her hands back, placing the Relic back into her form. It blends with her rotten flesh, and soaks into her radiance. It seems dark, compared to your own.
"Father, you have abused Her gifts. Have you not?"
You can scarcely answer. Light clouds over your vision. The sensation of the Goddess— as She wraps Herself around you, intertwines with your body, and pours forth from your soul— is almost more than you can stand. You asked for Her protection, and She does not intend to leave you. Not when faced with such a formidable enemy.
The archdemon takes a step forward. You have no fear in your heart as she extends her hands in the same gesture you've seen the clergy use so many times before. "I know you cannot speak. Take as much of the—
blessing— as you need. I know you have not asked, but you may call me Idonea, if you wish. I do not presume to carry the title of Mother for much longer, but these are my daughters." She gestures to the minor demons around her. "Philomene, Delara, Esme, Freya—" A pause is made at the eldest of them. "—and you have already met Aurelius."
Her words are faint through the all-consuming light and ecstasy of Mercy's blessing. The divine radiance you're enamored with is
blinding in its intensity.
The archdemon cannot come near you. Idonea takes a step back— seeming to know her place —though her golden face seems to linger on you.
Is it jealousy?
"I will return. If you must seek my aid, my daughters will know how to find me. Do not abuse my kindness, Father. Do not abuse them. I wish to heal— to help— but even my patience knows its limits. You have clearly not shown restraint."
It's fear, isn't it?
The archdemon takes another step back, waving her hand in a much broader motion. Though the night is dark, you can see the entire field with the utmost clarity through Her light. Three of the doors swing open on the outskirts of your vision. Your breath hitches. The slightest use of Her blessing— to see Her
light— sends another wave of elation through you.
Idonea seems revolted. She turns away from you with a sound that you don't particularly care for. You'd like to defend yourself, but she speaks over the rising gasp in your throat. "Once you have finished, you may see to my children. Beyond here lies the chambers of Yech, Beltoro, and Remigius. You have met them all already in some capacity. Please treat them with the same tenets you claim to have upheld with all of your children. I cannot promise they will show you the same courtesy that I have, though they will certainly try."
Through the haze of elation— nerves aflame— you struggle to suppress the sounds that Mercy is eliciting. Despite all of your brewing questions, a reply entirely escapes you. You knew that something wasn't quite right since you last invoked Her, but the reaction you're having to Her blessing is more than you can stand. It's difficult to even think.
Idonea moves to walk away, and places a hand to the back of Freya's golden hair to turn the minor demon's face away.
You don't stop the archdemon. Her faint words hang in the air behind her, as she fades completely out of even Mercy's sight.
"...do not disappoint me further, Father."
There's a lingering sensation of heat and gold as the archdemon completely vanishes into the field.
You gasp, falling forward onto your hands and knees. Relaxing even slightly from the tension of being near the archdemon sends another wave of relief into you. You can scarcely stand it.
Her children are still standing a fair distance away, keeping their eyes off of you in a welcome display of Mercy. You're still deeply concerned for your friends. There's blood streaked over their hands, over Ray's teeth, and they didn't seem to be breathing properly for some time. They stir almost the moment that Idonea fades from view.
Another gasp rises to your lips as you turn to face them. The Goddess is
with you,
in you,
on you. Your right hand is completely caked in blood— yet the gash from clutching onto your holy symbol slowly mends itself through Her. Your opposite hand clutches onto the soil, desperate for something to hold onto through the intensity of it.
You can hardly breathe. Gold flows from your lips and hands into the soil.
>A] Try and release Mercy. No matter how much healing your friends need, this is too much. You're not ashamed, and you're sure that they'd understand, but you're scared of losing yourself. If you can't, they'll have to help you out of it.
>B] Release Mercy, even if you have to do something a little desperate. She will certainly forgive a minor transgression, but you need to get a hold of yourself. You'd rather have a few demons see you sin than to have your friends see you like this.
>1] Swear a little. Your word is your bond, but a few expletives probably won't hurt. (Write-in something crass if you really want.)
>2] Hurt yourself. You're sworn to protect and to heal, but there's nothing explicit in her tenets about self-harm. (You've done plenty worse and seemed to enjoy it, haven't you?)
>C] Stay with Mercy, and completely heal your friends. Let them see you. Show them that you can use Her gifts for something more than merely surviving. Try to release Her once you're sure they're alright. It will no doubt be harder, but it's far more important to you that they're safe than to preserve your own sanity.
>D] Write-in.
Through the overwhelming relief, you hear a rush behind you. A long cloak is tossed aside. A wooden staff digs into the soil. There are whines and whimpers of a dog who fears for your life. Your friends are right beside you.
You remain on your hands and knees— clutching onto the earth— utterly taken by Mercy. The voices of your companions is filtered through a haze of euphoria and building tension. The gold is blinding.
"Richard?! What's wrong with— are you okay?! Stay back. We got this—"
"Ofelia, stay your hand. They do not appear to be attacking. Something has happened. Father? Father, please—"
Ofelia and Celegwen both kneel down beside you. It's apparent that they could not see the gold pouring from your hands and lips at a distance, as they both recoil the moment they get closer. Ray's whining is constant, though he's right beside you.
You can't speak to reassure them. You can scarcely see or hear anything, every nerve alight with Mercy. You try and release Her.
Typically, the Gods are eager to remove themselves from your frame. Their intangible blessing pours out of you like so much water from your broken vessel. It always feels so fleeting— but Mercy does not want to leave you. Another surge of pleasure threatens to drop you even from your knees.
You clutch harder into the soil, letting Her gold pool under your palms. Your wound is completely healed, the breath back in your lungs, and the vision of Her Relic is seared into your memory— but you don't want this.
It's getting harder to think.
"M-Mercy..."
Some time passes.
It's hard to say.
Ray's soft and reassuring form scampers over. Through the gold you catch his ears down, his tail behind him, and he growls at what must be the minor demons ahead of you all. He does not attack. The mastiff nudges himself against you— unafraid— and lays down to better support you as you kneel in the dirt.
You're afraid to touch him. You can't get your limbs to cooperate, seized as they are with Mercy. Everything is so soft. The edges of your mind grow intangible. You can't quite repress your breath— gasps, clutching onto the ground beneath you— all while trying to find something solid. Something real.
Ray leans harder into you, almost as if to reassure you that you're still with him.
"Snap out of it, Richard. It's okay. Come on. We're right here. You don't gotta do this."
"Father, if you can speak, tell me what we need to do. Do not leave us. Please."
We have to get them out of here. We have to make it back to the surface.
Hit hard with another swell of gratification, it's impossible to avoid curling into yourself. Restricting the moan rising to your throat is the best you can do.
Though you're acutely aware of the stares boring into you from your friends, the light of Mercy sears into you hotter than the sun. You want to lean into it. To stay with Her. Every inch of you is begging to stay with the
relief. To nurture and heal. You know that She loves you, that She wants you, and that She
needs your vessel. She wants you to be free of your pain.
We have so many more hurdles to face. This is so wasteful. This isn't right. We've abused Her.
You can't suppress the moan that rises to your lips. Though it is muffled by the gold dripping forth, you recoil further— completely ashamed of yourself.
"Mercy—!"
"Father—"
"Richard?"
Reaching the Relic is not the end of Our mission.
"Nnn..."
We must survive.
The light is utterly blinding before you. It reminds you of something you haven't seen in weeks, and fear you'll never see again.
To see the Merciful gold of TRUE sunlight again...
It's helping. The thought seizes you, and turns your eyes skyward. The red moon lances the metal coating your irises. A glimpse of something other than Mercy, if only for a moment.
To be alive...
The relief begins to fade. You manage to still the moans and gasps pouring from you— drawing into yourself— clutching onto your robes.
To be sane. Intact...
You can feel the fear on Ofelia and Celegwen, but knowing that they haven't left you— that Ray is right by your side— fills you with hope.
With my friends by my side, much the same...
You cough as hard as you can. Gold spills forth from your heart and mouth onto the floor below you. The heat abates, though the warm air around you keeps a newfound chill from becoming overwhelming.
There is darkness, and demons, and your companions right beside you.
You look to your friends with greener eyes. Mercy parts from your frame, leaving your body ravaged with tremor. Gold still lances the green for the briefest of moments as you look back to your friends.
"Everything is going to be alright."
A pounce from Ofelia nearly knocks you over as she takes you into a hug. You catch a glimpse of her freckles and the blood still on her hands as she embraces you. Her voice cracks slightly from strain, and you don't miss her glancing repeatedly towards the minor demons standing across from you all. "You fucking lunatic!"
Ray immediately begins to snarl and bark at the halfling. Sheepishly, she pulls away. Worry is wrought all over her face. You glance away as you get back to your knees, shaking terribly.
"Okay, okay— easy. Richard, the fuck was that for? Where are we—?"
It's a bit harder to tell emotion on Celegwen's face, but you've seen it often enough by now to recognize her worry. She isn't saying anything, but looking around with enormous concern at your surroundings. Her eyes settle on the minor demons across from you all as well.
As usual, Ray cannot demand any explanations, nor does he seem interested in anything but you. His whimpering is incessant— his tail and ears down— with blood congealed on the corners of his teeth. He seems to be hurt, but you have no idea where your equipment is— and you are not about to call upon Mercy again.
>A] Tell your friends plainly what's happened, including how badly you abused Mercy. Don't mince words, and reassure them that you are somewhere safe. Ask them what they saw as well. You were entirely incapable of discerning your surroundings since your last prayer. Clean up Ray as best as you can, and command him to rest.
>B] Tell your friends to stay on their guard. Try to not get too into the details. Inform them that you've found the Relic, but that you can't trust the archdemon and would appreciate if they do the same. See if they can search the area with you before setting out. Maybe you can find your things.
>C] Don't say anything, and try to gather yourself for a moment. You're still shaking pretty badly, and could use a moment to gather your thoughts. You've never experienced a blessing from the Gods in such a way, and can feel the strain on your body and mind even after Mercy has left you. You have to look after yourself.
>D] Write-in.
Back on your knees, you don't even bother standing upright. Your entire body is shaking. Still ravaged from the prayer to Mercy, there is no pain. You're simply overwhelmed from the intensity of Her working through you. The gentle breeze on the air sends another chill down your spine. The faint scent of the harvest drifting across the wind, the sound of each branch swaying, the faint light of the moon overhead all lets you fall into a reverie.
I'm losing myself, but who else can I rely on? Agriculture destroys my body each time I call upon Her. Spirit wears on my mind and soul.
I'm so scared of Time, I have never even met the Mother of Her church.
I have to trust in Mercy. I love Her so dearly.
I need Her.
Taking your holy symbol again, you close your eyes. "Mercy—"
There's a hand on your shoulder. You dart your eyes up, wide with love and relief.
Celegwen is looking down at you with extreme concern. She picks up your free hand— the one that isn't clutching onto your holy symbol— and wraps it in her own. Dried and caked blood from her palms grates against your sensitive skin, sending another chill up your arm. Her voice is methodical and light as air, but you can recognize the worry in her words. "Father, please— stay with us. Where are we? What has transpired?"
It felt like you fell, but you're uncertain which way, or how. There's little use disguising your own concern as you try to ground yourself and gather your thoughts. You look up beyond the red moon. Stone and an impossible sky leers overhead akin to a low ceiling. It seems to be too close to exist.
It's much easier to talk about demons and Gods than it is to speak about yourself. Your voice is level and confident in your assessment after everything Idonea has told you. "We've reached the lair of an archdemon. A fallen Mother of the Church of Mercy. She claimed her name is Idonea. She wished to..."
You look over to the minor demons, who have turned back towards you. They're entirely static, though they stare at you with unblinking light. Though their faces are obscured, you cringe at the scrutiny and try to avert your gaze. Ofelia, Celegwen and Ray are looking at you intently as well.
The blood around Ray's mouth is unbearable. His whining is incessant, though you could scarcely hear it moments ago. Your heart gives way at your neglect and the crushing guilt of bringing him into the ruins to begin with. Taking the mastiff into your arms, you entirely lose your train of thought while trying to reassure him. "It's okay, boy. It's alright. Come here, Ray. Lay down, Ray. Rest. It's okay. Let's get you cleaned up—"
Ofelia sniffs, holding out a handkerchief in front of you. You hadn't even noticed that she was standing so close to you still, but you gladly take it from her.
As lightly as you can, you try to assess the damage. Ray's gums are tender, but no teeth are missing, and he seems to be able to move his mouth without issue. The minor injury is purely from something pulling at his teeth. "You'll be alright, boy.
Rest."
There's another sound from Ofelia. She finally interrupts. The fear in her voice is so intense that you can't bear to look at her. "Richard. What did you do?"
The conflict between your current position, finding the Relic, and enduring such a mixed blessing from Mercy produces an awkward tone. Distressed and entirely uncertain of how to feel, you struggle to convey everything you've learned. "Idonea has it. Mercy's Relic. Malimos has been watching us. He's told her everything. The archdemon knew of the Catalyst, of my mission, and of our travels. I agreed to— I agreed to show her children Mercy in exchange for the Relic."
Alarm tightens Celegwen's face. "You made a deal with a demon? An archdemon?"
"It's alright," you insist. "I'm not doing anything that's against my order, or Her tenets. I was able to— I was able invoke
Mercy to protect myself from the Relic's
light..."
Taking a deep breath, you have to close your eyes to try and compose yourself. When you open them, Ofelia is right beside you as well.
"Richard, you're..."
You pry your hand off of your holy symbol for a moment to wipe your face. Embarrassed— you thought you were crying— it seems that there's no tears on your cheek. There's a streak of gold on the back of your wrist.
Your eyes were leaking gold.
"Father, I swore to help you— but I cannot stand by while you destroy yourself." Celegwen places her head on your shoulder, paying no mind to how bad you're trembling. "Please. Let us help you, so we can all leave this place together."
You take another deep breath, trying to gather your composure. To project
some normalcy. To at least put on the
appearance of someone sane. Having Celegwen on your shoulder isn't helping your heart rate, and you can't quite answer her, either.
i can't make that promise... but I can at least try to talk to her.
"While I was with Mercy— did you two see anything? Do you remember how you came to be here?"
Ofelia's voice is low. She sounds at least slightly relieved to hear a reasonable question from you. "Everythin' happened so fast. I think I mighta' been knocked out from the fall." Looking over her scuffed hands, she wipes off the blood gently. Something the archdemon did partially healed what should be a terrible injury. "There was a light. Not really sure. But when I came to, we were here. I thought those demons over there were gonna mess you up, Richard, but I think they were more nervous than we are—"
"Ofelia." Celegwen's distaste is immediate. She lifts her head off of your shoulder to glare at the halfling.
"Sorry. You looked real messed up though, Richard— no offense— but all that gold wasn't nothin' like I'd seen before. This Goddess of yours..." The rogue tightens her hands. Anger tilts into her words with something you can't quite identify. It's not the usual sass, and it's certainly not jealousy. "...I don't like it. You promised to take care of yourself. I don't care how good it might feel, Richard. She's not treatin' you right."
You turn away from both women, staring intently at Ray. He's clearly on edge— laying down as you've commanded— but obviously unable to rest. His low whining and growls are constant at the minor demons standing across from you all.
Voice low, your eyes are kept downcast. "I know I abused Her. I know this isn't right. I'm sorry you had to see me in such a way. I need some time. Some space. We will be alright—" The looks on Ofelia's and Celegwen's face cuts you deeply, but you persevere. "We're safe here. Idonea needs me. I am bound by my word. I will uphold my oath— take the Relic away from this place— and we..."
Trembling, you manage to get to your feet. Celegwen keeps your hand in hers, standing with you. It's a struggle, but you manage to look straight at Ofelia and Celegwen. The earnestness in your voice cuts through your strain.
"We will see the sun again."
Two pained smiles shine back at you. You try and sear the image into your memory. The stress on Ofelia's face is apparent, and Celegwen looks like she expects you to collapse at any moment— but they're both looking at you with hope. It's more than you could ever ask for.
You look towards the doors ahead of you, the minor demons, the moon hanging overhead. "We have a week."
Ofelia instantly starts. "What?!"
"I know." You sigh. "But the archdemon is ancient. She seems to be at the limit of her strength. She gave me a week. We can't afford to linger."
Celegwen stiffens her lip, clutches tightly onto her staff, and looks at you with an expression you're entirely unfamiliar with. "I cannot abide by your continued suffering, Father. We must end this." Her eyes glance over your frame, and to the field beyond. "What must we do?"
>A] Begin by scavenging the field, to see if your scarce supplies are scattered anywhere.
>1] Leave Celegwen with Ray. You don't trust him alone. Not with the minor demons lingering.
>2] Leave Ray alone, and have everyone spread out to cover more ground. The minor demons seem to have an insane degree of discipline- it would be foolish for them to attack one of your allies.
>B] Forget finding your gear. You don't need cartography tools or lock picks. Immediately scout out the doors that Idonea opened. There is no time to waste.
>C] Take a brief rest. You're really, really out of it, and you want Ray by your side.
>1] Have Ofelia search the field, while Celegwen inspects the doors.
>2] Have Celegwen conjure food and water for you all, and have everyone rest. You all marched for a day just to get here.
>D] Write-in.
Still on your knees, you slide to the ground, and sit next to Ray. The mastiff's breath is hard. His nerves are just as shot as anyone else's. You gently place a hand on his side and try to reassure everyone. "Celegwen, please— will you inspect the doors that Idonea opened? She claimed that they were the chambers of demons by the name of Yech, Beltoro, and Remigius. Though I am— though I am uncertain of what they contain— I fear something may come for us if we leave them open and unattended—"
"I will see to it. Get some rest." The elf turns and leaves before you can stop her, darting out into the field. She takes a wide path around the minor demons, who pay her little mind.
You look to Ofelia. Her face is pale, and the start of bags under her eyes is evident. Your voice softens. "You must be exhausted."
"Yeah. What about you?"
Despite your best efforts, you can't quite repress the tremor running through your body. Ofelia comes next to you, kneeling down and softening her expression as well. "You don't gotta answer. You really pushed yourself, didn't you?"
A nod, a glance away, and an apologetic face is the best you can offer.
Ofelia offers you a small smile, backing up and straightening out her blouse. "Thanks. I knew you wouldn't let anythin' happen to us. I'm gonna kick yer ass if you don't take it easy, though. You need somethin'?"
The pained expression on your face threatens to make itself permanent. "I hate to ask, but what happened to all of our equipment? I noticed Celegwen still had her staff—"
"She grabbed it the second the rope started to give. I think she was gonna try to save ya', but we all got pulled in pretty fast. I swiped at our stuff, but it was no use. Yer shield's a little big for me and all. But don't worry about it. I'll go look around. Maybe it's near the edge?" You both look towards the enormous field stretching out around you. "Any idea which way might be best?"
Looking to the moon overhead, the colossal walls and endless stone, you keep your hand to your holy symbol. You want guidance— but you're terrified of praying again so soon. Ofelia closes the distance between the two of you once more. She reaches out, to take your hand. The hand on your holy symbol.
You recoil. "
Don't—"
Her hand draws back, but she remains near you. The hurt in her voice is evident. "You can rely on yourself sometimes, too, y'know? But it's okay. I'll start searchin'. Take care of yourself, Richard. Maybe get some sleep. Seems to help ya' more than most things."
The rogue turns towards the minor demons leering at you all. Her voice rings out as she shouts to them. Despite her size, you know her threat has weight to it. "Don't you dare lay a finger on him! So help me, he'll be the last thing you ever touch!"
She turns and offers you a shark-like smile, before her cloak and small form vanishes into the grain.
You're alone once again with Ray. "Hey, boy. You holdin' up alright?"
His constant whining eases up as you direct your voice at him. Attention turned away from the minor demons, your dog looks to you in clear distress. Hands trembling, you scratch behind his ears. "We're gonna be okay. It's alright. Come here, Ray." His whining practically stops. Nuzzling up to you, Ray carefully places his head in your lap. "Good boy." Taking extra care to keep his jaw away, you take the mastiff into a hug.
His whining ceases after a few minutes. Before long, he drifts off to sleep. You continue to gently nuzzle against him, and bring your murmurs even lower. "You deserve better than this, big guy. We'll get you out of here. Everything is going to be alright."
There's no trace of Ofelia or Celegwen for some time. The minor demons keep their distance, though what you presume to be their eyes hasn't left you for a moment.
You can't quite sleep, but you do drift off. The warm air lulls you into some sense of security. Ray's weight is heavy against you, but the presence of something other than a God or Goddess is a welcome change. You absently continue to pet him, letting your mind wander. You can't remember the last time you had a moment just to think.
I came down here to die, but I've found so many reasons to live.
Mercy loves me. She knows of my devotion, and that I am always with Her. She has blessed me with this knowledge. This mission. She has taken me to the ends of the earth— not only to serve Her mission— but to make something of myself.
There may yet be a cure for the Catalyst.
Maybe this demon is lying. Maybe she has no intent of surrendering the Relic. But what if she's speaking the truth? What if all of this pain can be relieved?
What if a demon can be Merciful?
Your eyes fall on the doors ahead. Celegwen is excitedly picking her way back through the grain towards you.
I have more than myself to worry about.
What can she possibly see in me? Does she have no idea how much I stand to lose if I were to return her affection?
I swore to get us all out of here alive.
I swore to save myself for the Gods.
A perfect smile beams out towards you. "Father! You will not believe what I've seen—"
I have to protect her.
Looking down to Ray for a moment, your thoughts flicker to him, and to Ofelia.
I have to protect them.
To your immense relief, your tremor seems to be subsiding. You may have just needed to rest, and call out to Celegwen. "What have you found?"
"There is running water. One of the doors leads to a forest. It is absolutely breathtaking. There is more. A strange red building, and—" Celegwen closes the distance between you. Seeing that Ray is asleep in your lap, she lowers her voice. Looking around briefly, her tone takes on a hint of bewilderment. "—where has Ofelia gone?"
You're completely unable to see anything past the stalks of wheat. "She went searching for all of our equipment— though I do not know how she expects to find it, given the size of this place."
There's a slight sound from Celegwen. You look up to her in alarm— only to see that she's silently laughing. There's a few tears mixed into her outburst. The elf sits down next to you, placing her head in her hands for a moment. Both palms nervously try to wipe away the unusual display of emotion.
You're stunned.
The elf's composure remains fractured as she smiles at you. "You let her go off. Alone. In this place—" Looking around at the field, Celegwen laughs slightly again. "She is miraculous. Almost as much as you are, Father. I suspect she will be alright." Her silver hair bobs slightly as she turns towards you. The purple and black in her eyes sparkles as her composure completely returns. You marvel at her race's immaculacy, and question if it may just be her as an individual. "We should wait for her return, should we not?"
>A] Ask Celegwen to fill you in on what she saw while you wait for Ofelia. The halfling has unparalleled skill in evading detection. You know she stands a better chance of avoiding trouble. More importantly, she'll probably be impossible to find if she's trying to not be seen.
>B] Call out for Ofelia. Go look for her. The archdemon has ultimate authority in her domain, and you know her children will not attack you. You're better off searching together anyways. Leave Ray with Celegwen, and let her rest for a moment as well.
>C] Get some rest with Ray and Celegwen while you wait for Ofelia. You are extremely pressed for time, but you do need to sleep eventually. Better now than to press on exhausted later. Ask Celegwen to keep an eye on you and Ray, and to wake you the second anything suspicious happens.
>D] Write-in.
"Of course we should," you murmur, shying away from Celegwen's stare.
She glances away purely out of respect for how nervous eye contact makes you. Your gaze falls to your hands. The faded burns, pale cuts and old abrasions don't catch against the light. Your sleeves hang loose against your emaciated wrists, with fabric frayed from weeks of travel without reprieve. A few flecks of gold cling to the soft weave, and you inwardly cringe. It's a reminder of the gold trim that's expected to be worn by someone of your station. You've always hated the gaudiness of the clergy leader's attire.
Plain black suits you far better. You nervously pick at the gold, murmuring again. "Ofelia is— Ofelia is extraordinarily capable. We can spare a few more moments to wait for her. I'm certain that she'll be alright." There's a pause as you manage to get the gold loose. A stray thread comes with it, only serving to fray the fabric further. You grimace— giving up on fixing your robes— and glance towards Ray. He's sleeping soundly and snoring blissfully on your lap. "Can you please let me know what you've seen, Celegwen?"
"The archdemon opened three doors, did she not?"
"That I could see, yes."
"Each was inscribed with an initial. It is safe to assume that they corresponded to each of the names she gave you. The chamber of Yech housed the forest. The fresh air, Father! It may only be an illusion, but it is invigorating. I am not certain if we should attempt to resupply there— but there is running water, and trees. Trees, and birds, and flowers—!"
You almost catch yourself smiling. Celegwen's voice is lighter than you've ever heard it. Her eyes sparkle as she looks to the doors beyond, before she bows her head slightly. "You will have to forgive me, Father. It has been months since I last laid eyes on anything so green."
"It's alright."
She's looking at your eyes again. The sudden recollection of their color brings a flush to your face as you stammer, "and— and what of the other t-two?"
"Ah, they seem to be under equally heavily enchantments. The one that houses Remigius contains a strange red building. The structure is entirely unlike anything I have seen before. Heat and a pulsing
sensation was coming from it— though I did not sense anyone outside, nor hear anything distinctly coming from within." The elf puts a finger to her chin. "The other— Beltoro's— seemed to stretch outwards infinitely. Though the structure was contained by the door, the stone and devices within defied my comprehension. It was quite unsettling."
Both of you pass several silent moments deliberating.
"Father, I am deeply troubled that you have made an agreement with this archdemon. I understand how pressing our need is, but—"
"
Celegwen, I am bound by my word. To serve Mercy is to uphold Her tenets, to abide by Her compassion—" It's so much easier to speak of the Gods. You rapidly get caught up in the moment, and in the heat of invoking Her name. "—to show restraint, even in the face of the undeserving. I heard it, Celegwen. I heard Her blessing. Her mission. Not just to seek Mercy's Relic— but to find one of
our children that
still possesses kindness in their heart." There's a fire in your eyes, and warmth all throughout your voice. Timidness is replaced with fervor, devotion and love. "I cannot turn away from my calling."
Celegwen meets your eyes. Silver and flecks of the ethereal have the same fire in them. "I never meant to question it."
The spark between you two is almost unbearable.
There's tension in her shoulders. Her delicate fingers toy with the hem of her dress. Cloying worry creeps once again into Celegwen's voice. "I understand completely."
There's rustling in the grain. You both turn your heads quickly. Celegwen instantly springs to her feet— staff in hand— while you tense against the weight of Ray on your lap. He's so much heavier than you are, you can scarcely move with him on top of you. Fortunately, the source of the disturbance is merely Ofelia. Her petite and exhausted frame emerges from the field adjacent to you both.
With a sigh, she drops both of your packs to the floor. Your shield is nowhere in sight. "Back—" She groans, splaying out on the soil and looking to you with a grin. "Got yer stuff, Richard. Didn't even go through it this time."
Celegwen looks mildly irritated. "You could have come and asked for our help, Ofelia. There was no need to go off alone—"
"'Course there was." She smirks, looking between the two of you.
You glance away from both women, flustered and murmuring. "Thank you, Ofelia."
"Richard." Ofelia's snickers are unbearable. "Are you stuck under Ray?"
"...he needed to rest."
The halfling picks herself up and drags your backpack over to you. You give her an appreciative look, taking the hand-sewn satchel from her hands as delicately as possible so as to not wake your dog.
Everything is broken. The chalk, all of your candles, the daggers you pilfered from the imps within the catacombs, your remaining torch, and even the pens. You murmur thanks to Mercy momentarily for having emptied them of ink before stashing them inside the bag. The only thing that isn't completely battered is your water skin, journal, and the demon's diary you took from the library of Ostedholm. Its leather and parchment seems to have held up well, despite whatever they went through to get where you are now.
Ofelia is absolutely crestfallen when she sees you eyeing the broken candles. "Ah, fuck. Should have helped you with some of that, huh? Probably wouldn't have done much good anyways. Most of my things are busted, too. We've got another day's worth of food left, at least— and some more liquor, but I'm not lettin' ya near that til' we're back somewhere safer."
"What of the artifacts, Ofelia?" Celegwen's voice is level, but you can pick up on her strain regardless.
"Fine, of course. That cookbook ya' gave me Richard— thanks fer that by the way— got the worst of the broken waterskin."
The elf's face tightens. "How much is left?"
"Not much. Between the four of us— at the rate we're goin'— not enough for two days. Definitely not a week. Hopin' we're not here that long, anyways, but—"
You look between the two women, acutely aware of how delicate time is for all of you. "Celegwen, you had mentioned recalling conjuration...?"
She gives you a weary look. "Yes, Father. It is an incredibly taxing spell. Far more so than dissipation. I would greatly prefer to save my strength, and for us to find a safe supply of water elsewhere, but I will do what I must."
>A] Take this time for Celegwen to conjure food and water. Have everyone rest. You can scout out the chambers once everyone has had time to recuperate.
>B] Immediately scout out the chamber of Yech for a clean supply of water. Celegwen stated that there was running water, birds and trees there. If the enchantment is merely an illusion, you'll at least confirm if you have no other resources as soon as possible.
>C] Ask Aurelius about the gigantic field of grain you're sitting in. She had offered you her bounty once before, claiming it could heal. While the thought of imbibing anything from a demon directly is revolting, the field you're occupying seems real and organic enough.
>D] Pray to Agriculture, to bestow food and water upon you all. Her blessing can stave off an entire country's famine. Invoking Her name to feed you all during your time here is minor in comparison. You are horrifically thin— and while you shudder to think of any further injury to your form— you need to look after everyone.
>E] Write-in.
"Save your strength, Celegwen. We'll— we'll scout ahead. I hope you're right, Ofelia. I do not wish to stay here any longer than necessary, either."
An incredibly relieved and immaculate smile beams at you, as Celegwen glances from you to the doors beyond. "To the forest, then?"
"Yes. Just— just a moment." With a murmur and a pat on his side, you lean next to Ray's ear and try to rouse him. "Up, boy. Sorry to— sorry to wake you so soon. Come on."
A huge yawn greets you. Your dog blearily rolls off of you, slumping onto the soil with little grace or any care beyond staying asleep. He obediently manages to get up, despite the weight of his sleep. You notice his ears are still back, his tail down. He needs to rest. Your voice sounds far more hurt than he likely feels. "Here, Ray. It's alright, boy. Not much— not much longer now, okay? Up."
He licks the sides of your robes, starting to wrestle his way back onto your lap. It breaks your heart to pull away from him, but there's no time to give him the attention he's sorely craving. You settle on lightly tapping his nose, ruffling a hand through his fur, and scratching his ears affectionately. "I love you too, big guy, but we need to move. Up. Come on. Take it easy. With me, Ray."
You rise, giving a pained looked to your companions. Ofelia groans, getting back to her feet and slinging her pack over her shoulders.
"Think I could just, you know, ride on 'im for a little while, Richard?"
"...I'm not going to dignify that with a proper answer, Ofelia. Come on, boy. Stay close. Easy."
"Maybe another time. Alright. One day, Gwen. Mark my words."
Celegwen lets loose a small laugh, already setting off. With more difficulty than usual, you manage to lead Ray right after her. Ofelia brings up the rear, trailing slightly behind as she keeps her eyes out. The rogue makes an incredibly rude gesture at the minor demons as you all pass them by, heading for the expanse of doors across the field.
A huge sigh of relief escapes from Celegwen as she brings you nearer. The particular door she's waiting in front of is made of iron. A collection of heraldry is inscribed in the bars with the work of a master craftsman. Surely enough, you catch an emblem in the center with a large 'Y' inscribed into the face. The thing is, the elf is hardly smitten with the door. She's gazing longingly out to a black expanse within.
You peer around her, unable to see anything inside other than darkness and smoke. Ofelia clears her throat. "Gwen? You alright there?"
"Do you trust me?" She looks to you both intensely. It's the same look you saw in her before. The one you couldn't place.
Desire.
You stammer, complete caught off-guard. "Of c-course."
"Sure, sure." Ofelia winks at her in an extremely sarcastic fashion. "Far as I can throw ya'. Where does this lead, again?"
"A forest, Ofelia. The chamber of a demon by the name of Yech."
"Really?
Yech?"
"That is what Richard told me." The elf looks to you quizzically. It's almost as if she's expecting you to say this is some sort of joke.
You can't help but shrug. "Names hold greater significance to some demons. Some— some hold them in higher regard than others. I do not know with any certainty what lies beyond— but I trust you, Celegwen."
Ofelia sighs, nodding.
You step through the door together.
