Catalyst Quest: Light Sentence
- Thread starter Alaric
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- Original Mature Fantasy Horror
Chapter 57: By Omission
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 57: By Omission
With drunken revelry at your back and a beautiful woman ahead, you gulp down the entire glass of wine in hand (you feel fit to burst, and swear to yourself that you'll ease up on grabbing any more drinks for the rest of the night), slam the glass to a nearby empty table, and make your way straight up to Catherine.
Her position nearest to the wall is excellent. Your height and bulk casts a shadow over her fair features. "Lady Catherine."
"F-Father Anscham." She's somehow even more soft-spoken than you are. Bluebirds have less sweetness in their song.
A voice in the back of your mind is screaming that you should have had Walter see to this matter with all the finesse he possesses, but the rest of you knows you can handle this. Not only is your counselor preoccupied with seeing to the more intricate and subtle matters among your company...
The only bitch that the Church of Mercy is raising is Sunshine.
With your back to the feast, you completely block yours and Lady Gougenard's lips from view. No one is eavesdropping on this conversation. You're capable of intimidating demons. Getting her to talk should be be child's play— even if every bit of this is going to hurt to say.
"My lady, I've heard that you're seeking forgiveness. You are aware that any confession made to me is kept in the utmost confidence?"
A pair of golden eyes flits slightly over your shoulder, as if she's still terrified of someone listening in. "Yes."
"The luxury of complete privacy will be afforded to none of us tonight. Because I am certain that someone will disturb us before long, I advise that you speak swiftly."
The blonde gulps and shrinks back slightly against the wall. Her eyes close in a mockery of faintness, before she confirms that no one is listening in— then a bold, piercing yellow stare bores straight into your emerald eyes. Catherine speaks in such an imperceptible whisper, you have to follow the woman's red lips to catch some words.
"My brother and sister. I know—"
"Thoughts are not a sin. Your actions are what we are concerned with tonight. Speak to me of what you've done, my lady."
She practically pouts, but replies, "I've done everything in my power to keep Allan and Edith safe. I understand that they were involved in the resistance in Calunoth, and have preached the merit of your leadership over my father's. But with both of them missing, all I want is to know is if they're safe—"
"Are you asking for forgiveness in regards to your assistance with the uprising in the capital...? You are— you are aware that I was pardoned for the same crime."
Her gaze falls over your shoulder once more. "I am. But I am no hero." You frown a little at the implication that she thinks of you as one. Neither of you dwell on it. "I've ran— just like I presume they both have— in every attempt to get out from under father's thumb. I understand that even speaking of him in such a way—"
"King Magnus is Merciful, my lady. I know with absolute confidence that he does not wish for his children to suffer needlessly. So, are you— are you truly repentant?"
"Yes. I don't wish to go back to the capital. Eadric is my home, and I have a life here of my own... but I do wish to settle this animosity between myself and my family. It's gone on for far too long. I suppose that if—"
Interrupting her so often has the noblewoman tense as you speak again, but it's almost effortless to talk over her gentle speech. "I mean no insult, my lady, but this is not a matter of what you 'suppose.' I am deeply interested in your business here in Eadric, and cannot thank you enough for all of your contributions to our continued prosperity. How exactly it is that you have helped to keep us afloat in these trying times is something I pray we can discuss in a moment. But for now, I would— I would like for you to reflect on what brought you to me, to ask for clemency. Your family. Your life here. The life that you wish to keep having."
Resolution seizes her, with mist in yellow eyes, and a thin line of a frown.
"You wish to repent," you say.
"I do."
"You bear no ill will towards your family and homeland?"
"No."
"Then go with my blessing, Lady Catherine, and the blessing of the Goddess." The tightness of her shoulders and jaw instantly relaxes. You give her a patient, weary smile. "I apologize once again for being so direct."
The two of you part from the intense position you've been keeping, and assume a friendly amount of space. The noblewoman beside you laughs lightly to herself, but tension is all through her body. "It is quite alright, Father. You do seem—"
You're not letting that line of discussion go anywhere. "Stressed?" An equally strained laugh escapes from you. "Parties are far from my forte. I am sorely in need of a break from all of this, but I couldn't forgive myself if I passed up the opportunity to meet you."
"Oh?" She seems sincerely flattered.
The slight rise and fall of her pale chest is downright enchanting.
You're lying by omission by keeping this woman from knowing the location of her siblings. That they're alive and well. That you're the one who rescued them from the depths of the ruins below Calunoth, and sought their asylum in the Church of Dream.
You keep your eyes at face-level, try to calm your anxiety down, and take a deep breath. You can ask Mercy for forgiveness later. Surely you haven't destroyed a lifetime of faith and devotion in a single conversation.
"I sincerely meant it when I said that I— that I wished to hear of how your business has been faring."
"Thanks to your efforts, Father Anscham? Never better." The look that's drilling into you is one of extreme curiosity. Daintiness falls from Catherine's tone by the second. It's replaced by ambition. "The reconstruction of our roads is truly a miracle. I understand that you are solely responsible."
"Not at all. To serve is to grow, my lady. Agriculture is to thank for our prosperity. I am only a vessel." You can't help but look a little dreamy-eyed. The thought of being with Her is practically enough to put tulips in your eyes, roses in your heart, and more flowers still in your speech.
Squashing down the urge to wax poetic about roadwork, you set about a series of polite but mundane questions with Catherine in regards to the effects that your union with Agriculture has had on the city's economy. It would seem that business is thriving. Sure, many neighboring cities are still struggling horribly with the famine, but given the excess you've provided Eadric with, trading is at an all-time high. Goods are coming into your home at an alarming rate in exchange for basic supply! The people of Eadric are still reeling from the events of weeks past, but it's redoubled everyone's resolve to not let another catastrophe like it happen again. Efforts are being made en masse to preserve and continue the city of gold's prosperity— just as it should be.
There is some fear that in your absence, things will revert to catastrophe. Lady Catherine personally has the utmost trust in her people and productivity, but as you depart, she's sure to stress, "we will all be looking forward to your safe return, Father Anscham." More quietly, she adds, "and thank you."
The two of you part ways. Just to be safe, you head straight for the high table, and whisper to Walter that he should go check on Lady Catherine's association with Inertia (or lack thereof).
Without a word or more than a wicked smirk, your heretical counselor is out of his seat, and off to go interrogate the poor woman. Satisfied that the matter is completely looked to, you set your sights on the rest of the great hall.
Everyone is terribly drunk. Half of the feast has been picked clean, much of the wine has been had, and the minstrels on stage take a break for just a moment. Conversation is hot and loud on the air, with the lingering scent of smoke from the hearth, and more liquor than you've had to drink in weeks.
Everyone would greatly benefit from some movement, so you call the room's attention.
>Choose one option from A and B.
>Write-ins may not be mutually exclusive. Feel free to add onto the prompts, too.
>A] This dance has to go somewhere, and you want to be a good host.
>1] Have the tables and chairs slid over, and host the dance here in the great hall. There are too many influential individuals here to risk a public outing, and most are probably too drunk to appreciate a change of scenery anyways.
>2] Hold the dance in the gardens. You REALLY want some fresh air and to stretch your legs. It will be memorable, beautiful, and you think your guards can handle everyone's safety.
>3] Write-in. (Daybreak Citadel is ENORMOUS. Feel free to ask questions (or make suggestions!) if you're wanting for other locations.)
>B] Now's a great opportunity to wrap up your affairs for the night.
>1] Ask Candace to dance with you. You'll make a big public statement about your alliance, your stance on Mercy, you can catch up on who she's met tonight, and will see what her plans are before you both part ways.
>2] Sneak away with Sister Cardew. The two of you need to do something about that invocation of Spirit she wants to make, and she'll want the break from all this fuss, too.
>3] Write-in.
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>A] This dance has to go somewhere, and you want to be a good host.
>2] Hold the dance in the gardens. You REALLY want some fresh air and to stretch your legs. It will be memorable, beautiful, and you think your guards can handle everyone's safety.
>3] Write-in.
Ensure that security is secure when we take this party outside. Keep drinking to a minimal or none at all at this point
>2] Hold the dance in the gardens. You REALLY want some fresh air and to stretch your legs. It will be memorable, beautiful, and you think your guards can handle everyone's safety.
>3] Write-in.
Ensure that security is secure when we take this party outside. Keep drinking to a minimal or none at all at this point
- Pronouns
- He/Him
>A] This dance has to go somewhere, and you want to be a good host.
>1] Have the tables and chairs slid over, and host the dance here in the great hall. There are too many influential individuals here to risk a public outing, and most are probably too drunk to appreciate a change of scenery anyways.
I think security should not be skirted right now.
Oh yeah, and Cardew I guess...
>2] Sneak away with Sister Cardew. The two of you need to do something about that invocation of Spirit she wants to make, and she'll want the break from all this fuss, too.
>1] Have the tables and chairs slid over, and host the dance here in the great hall. There are too many influential individuals here to risk a public outing, and most are probably too drunk to appreciate a change of scenery anyways.
I think security should not be skirted right now.
Oh yeah, and Cardew I guess...
>2] Sneak away with Sister Cardew. The two of you need to do something about that invocation of Spirit she wants to make, and she'll want the break from all this fuss, too.
Chapter 58: No One the Wiser
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 58: No One the Wiser
"May I have your attention, please!"
Every conversation in the great hall abruptly comes to a halt. Nearly one-hundred festive heads turn your way in various states of inebriation. One man wavers from his sudden turn, nearly falls over, and a little cheer of laughter rises from his side of the room.
"A change of scenery will suit us all nicely! With respect to the Goddess who provided the bounty we've partaken of tonight, we shall proceed to the gardens!"
Another cheer rises from most of the drunker men and women. You fire Sister Cardew a knowing stare, and mouth 'we're running as soon as we get there.'
She grins back at you from ear to ear, and begins gathering her purse. Hopping down from the high table, you make a note to avoid drinking any further tonight (if only due to how full you feel). Shoving your hands in your pockets for good measure, you briskly head towards the rear door of the great hall.
"After me, please!"
A merry band of aristocrats and nobles sweep up the remaining wine, plenty of the food, their personal things, and one archer who's already so intoxicated that he can barely stand. The ruckus makes it unbelievably difficult to discern the movement of anyone in the corridors beyond. But rather than risk trying to find additional security on your own, you holler for Vane and Harvey.
Both men are by your side in an instant, ordered to see to protecting the entirety of the group, and they take back off without a moment's notice. It looks like Harvey opts to stay behind with the rest of your entourage, while Vane sprints to pull away guards from elsewhere in the castle.
There's practically a skip in your step. A herd of minstrels falls to the back of the march, bringing up a quick-paced melody to keep everyone moving along. It's no time at all before your merry-makers arrive beneath the boughs of your garden at night. It's still raining, but you have a covered gazebo nearby, and a stunning covered walkway leading up to it. Luminescent flowers are all aglow under monstrously high canopies of trees and darkly lit flowers. Even the low, trimmed shrubbery and cobblestone paths are breathtaking at this time of night.
Without your encouragement, the entirety of the party filters into the covered area ahead. Lines form of men and women all set to dance. The band settles in at the very rear of the group, practically still sitting in the castle, with their instruments well protected from the drizzle.
A tug on the back of your cloak alerts you to Sister Cardew having snuck up behind you. The clever priestess gives you a mischievous smile, and tilts her head back in the direction you just came. You both sneak away from the dancers and music with grins on your faces, and no one the wiser.
The two of you can't help but get caught in the rain. It's coming down in sheets. You sweep your cloak over Sister Cardew's head, to which she giggles, and pulls the fabric closely about her.
For the first time, you wonder if she might love cloth so much because of the comfort it brings. It's all you can do to try and protect her with everything you have.
A winding path is taken along the outskirts of Daybreak Citadel. Once you're away from the crowd, it's easy enough for you to find an empty room for safe shelter.
The dusty maid's quarters sends Harriet into a sneezing fit. Taking off your cloak entirely, you wrap the warm garment around your expecting friend, and you both settle down next to each other on the floor. Rubbing at Harriet's shoulders, you quietly ask, "are you alright?"
She sniffles, and beams up to you with a little light in her glass-covered eyes. "Absolutely."
Out of the blue, you're pulled into a tight hug. You return the motion in an instant, but have to ask, "what's this for?"
"I'm so proud of you." She's shaking her head, getting water everywhere from her veils. They're all quickly taken off, so all that's on your counselor is her stunning white gown and the garment you've given her for a little more modesty.
"You've come so far."
A little rain must have gotten in your eyes. Both of you laugh at each other for a moment, before you get up, lock the door, and sit back beside Harriet.
A deep breath is taken. She adjusts her glasses.
"How are we doing this," you ask.
"I don't know," she replies. "I'm going to try and undo the work of two Gods. It might be terribly painful. It might be over in an instant. I don't know exactly what I'm doing. But I've heard of Father Sullivan attempting this sort of thing before. I know that it's possible. I'm going to implore Spirit to guide me. She loves us all, Richard. I know She wouldn't want you to be hurt in such a way. There is just something that's gone wrong with the way that the Gods affect you."
It looks like she's going to cry. "I won't just stand by and watch you suffer."
You've never seen her look so emotional, and take your counselor by the shoulders. "You never have."
Sister Cardew seems completely sober as she takes off her glasses, wipes at her eyes, and assumes a straight face. "You're right. Let's heal your mind."
You have to pause one more time.
>A] This is a problem with your mind, alright. Implore Sister Cardew to remove your inclination towards eating flesh or the deceased from all of your thoughts. It might be a quick and dirty solution, but you're desperate, and are willing to live with whatever side effects might result from such an extreme measure.
>B] This is a problem with your body. Flesh is making you crave His work. Tell Sister Cardew that you need her to help you cope with this inclination until you can get back to the Church of Flesh. You'll speak with Cyril. He's helped heal your body before, and you know that he'll be able to put a stop to this.
>C] This is a problem with your soul. Vengeance reflected a demon's inclinations onto you, and it is there that the trouble lies. Ask Sister Cardew to help you mend the damage Nehliht inflicted on you, that you inflicted on yourself, and that Vengeance gave you through Flesh.
>D] You're honestly scared, and you don't want to go through with this. You believe that Father Sullivan is still alive, and want to see him for this matter. You mean no offense towards Sister Cardew and love her more than you can say. You know she'll understand. Just spent a little quality time together before you wrap up the night.
>E] Write-in.
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>C] This is a problem with your soul. Vengeance reflected a demon's inclinations onto you, and it is there that the trouble lies. Ask Sister Cardew to help you mend the damage Nehliht inflicted on you, that you inflicted on yourself, and that Vengeance gave you through Flesh.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
>E] Write-in.
This could honestly be any, all or none of A, B and C. I think this matter should be talked about with all possible representatives and opinions (and solutions) discussed about.
Also, sneak a slap on cardew's THICC ASS! cough cough... I mean, compliment her on her support.
This could honestly be any, all or none of A, B and C. I think this matter should be talked about with all possible representatives and opinions (and solutions) discussed about.
Also, sneak a slap on cardew's THICC ASS! cough cough... I mean, compliment her on her support.
>C] This is a problem with your soul. Vengeance reflected a demon's inclinations onto you, and it is there that the trouble lies. Ask Sister Cardew to help you mend the damage Nehliht inflicted on you, that you inflicted on yourself, and that Vengeance gave you through Flesh.
>E] Write-in.
At any point, if she feels that she is at risk she is to stop immediately if she is hesitant about not seeing it through due to concern for her health. Tell her if she won't do it for us, she should do it for her unborn child.
>E] Write-in.
At any point, if she feels that she is at risk she is to stop immediately if she is hesitant about not seeing it through due to concern for her health. Tell her if she won't do it for us, she should do it for her unborn child.
Dang, was actually going to vote for the last post. But got beaten by @Alaric 's prodigious, yet speedy hands! Well, it's the same idea as @Florin 's anyway.
So what is the root of our curse? Frankly, @Heliophage 's got it right: it could be all of those things reinforcing themselves on our psyche. What we 'mortals' usually do is that we got to cope with the trauma that's done to us and have our minds channel that into ways a that we can still be called functional.
From what I see, Anscham's various run ins within the battlefield only enforces the more gruesome parts of his memories. Like Kaneki Ken of Tokyo Ghoul wishing to be stronger by taking the mannerisms of his former captors to cope from his experiences, so does Richard with his tendancies when surrounded by corpses to call back on the most damaging of experiences- the curse of Vengence and Nehliht.
It does not help that courting the Goddess of Death and the consumption of the Green Dahlia only exacerbate and positively enforces this experience. As such, cutting this part of Richard I feel harms this aspect we have of Agriculture.
Unfortunately we cannot tap that thiccness. It would have been nice when she was single and ready to mingle. But once she's hitched with our Brainy Bro- Walter with our express endorsement ... Just No.
NTR is cursed for a reason.
>E] Write-in.
This could honestly be any, all or none of A, B and C. I think this matter should be talked about with all possible representatives and opinions (and solutions) discussed about. As the Goddess of Knowing, Spirit can guide Harriet to see the optimal path in which we can cure our current ailment.
At any point, if she feels that she is at risk she is to stop immediately if she is hesitant about not seeing it through due to concern for her health. Tell her if she won't do it for us, she should do it for her unborn child.
"Hello? Yes, is this Dr. Spirit? I have a cursed and mentally deranged husbando in need of fixing. No trepanning please."
So what is the root of our curse? Frankly, @Heliophage 's got it right: it could be all of those things reinforcing themselves on our psyche. What we 'mortals' usually do is that we got to cope with the trauma that's done to us and have our minds channel that into ways a that we can still be called functional.
From what I see, Anscham's various run ins within the battlefield only enforces the more gruesome parts of his memories. Like Kaneki Ken of Tokyo Ghoul wishing to be stronger by taking the mannerisms of his former captors to cope from his experiences, so does Richard with his tendancies when surrounded by corpses to call back on the most damaging of experiences- the curse of Vengence and Nehliht.
It does not help that courting the Goddess of Death and the consumption of the Green Dahlia only exacerbate and positively enforces this experience. As such, cutting this part of Richard I feel harms this aspect we have of Agriculture.
Unfortunately we cannot tap that thiccness. It would have been nice when she was single and ready to mingle. But once she's hitched with our Brainy Bro- Walter with our express endorsement ... Just No.
NTR is cursed for a reason.
>E] Write-in.
This could honestly be any, all or none of A, B and C. I think this matter should be talked about with all possible representatives and opinions (and solutions) discussed about. As the Goddess of Knowing, Spirit can guide Harriet to see the optimal path in which we can cure our current ailment.
At any point, if she feels that she is at risk she is to stop immediately if she is hesitant about not seeing it through due to concern for her health. Tell her if she won't do it for us, she should do it for her unborn child.
"Hello? Yes, is this Dr. Spirit? I have a cursed and mentally deranged husbando in need of fixing. No trepanning please."
- Pronouns
- He/Him
HAHA! I know, I was one of the people that told boss to do that in the first place. I just wanted to elicit that reaction from people, glad you got it MoonDangernoodle.
C will win (blessed) but I do think that write-in was specially inspired by my standards.
I have been baited and bamboozled by a Suneater! A cursed day has befallen upon me! Most unfortunate.
But hey... a fellow cultured degenerate! So not so cursed in hindsight.
Writing now!)What the picture was a trap!? All that shawls and cloth to hide that heretical sticcdom?!
Name: Sister Harriet Cardew
<img src="" data-url="https://i.imgur.com/9EL2LGb.png" class="bbImage lazyload" style="" width="" height="" />And still that after all this time within the home of the foremost adherent of Agriculture? We must remedy this offence at once!
[X] Invoke Agriculture to confer some of your "blessings" upon the good Sister in order to help nourish her body and her baby. Have it so that adequate thiccness be tastefully proportional so that Walter will shed manly tears in gratitude. 🙏
Alaric
⠀
(She's been established as a twig since Avowed. I'm so sorry Moon.)
I must have glazed over those words during my read of that arc. So strong was my belief in Harriet able to take care of herself adequately.
But nonetheless, this is no excuse for twigness especially when she's now carrying two and within the house of Agriculture's consort! With the havest bursting and the foods coming in, it is time for her to snaccc!
She will of course, join a proscribed physical routine for her condition afterwards... preferably with the doggos.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
HAHA! And the picture I drew too! I guess the desires of the sketches imprinted in the final piece.
Chapter 59: Rot is Sweet
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 59: Rot is Sweet
"Wait."
You stay in the moment. You're grounded. You're not in Ostedholm. There are no worms falling from the eye sockets of a deranged carrion-beetle. You're not gazing at the skin of a woman's face stretched over some monstrosity at the end of the world. You're not dying. There's no smoke. No poison. Your friends are not with you, but you're safe.
You're alive.
You're trying to keep it together, and Harriet briefly touches the side of your arm to get your attention back to the present. Your gaze snaps to her in an instant, pupils constricted, heart racing.
"This is a problem with my mind."
It's hard to breathe.
"A problem with my body."
You can taste it. Iron. Blood.
"A problem with my soul."
Rot is sweet.
Ripping yourself away from the precipice of another flashback is impossible. You're completely aware that the green dahlia only amplified your desire for death and poison. Agriculture has, too. And a lifetime of pursuing Vengeance— and your years upon years of devotion to Flesh— it's no wonder that you're left holding onto yourself on the floor of a dusty old room, comforted only by the patient silence of one of your best friends.
The voice that leaves you is drier than a pile of dead leaves. "I'm cursed. Deranged. Removing any of this could harm my connection to Agriculture." Despite how full you are, it feels like there's nothing left in you. "I want nothing more than to talk to Cyril and Father Sullivan about this. But I can't. I need help, Sister Cardew."
A broken-hearted stare goes down to your blessed priestess. She's looking up to you with all the usual conviction and restraint that she possesses. "No matter what you think of yourself, Richard, we're going to help you."
"I need you to do something for me, Harriet." The use of her first name startles the woman half-to-death. You almost smile. "Please. Ask Spirit to guide you. Ask Her how we can cure what's ailing me. And at ANY point, if you feel like you are at ANY risk, I need you to stop immediately."
Her lips are so tight, you can hardly see them.
"Promise me, Harriet. If you won't do it for me, do it for the sake of your unborn child."
She sighs. Hard. "I promise."
The petite young woman has to get on her knees to place a hand to your forehead. Her fingers are like ice, like usual.
Both of you close your eyes.
"Sister Cardew?"
"Yes, Richard?"
"Thank you for everything. All of your support. It— it's meant the world to me."
A long moment passes in silence.
"Sister Cardew?"
It sounds like she's crying, but her voice stays completely level. "You're welcome. Let us pray."
Your right hand is held in a death-grip. Harriet is trembling, but you speak in unison with all the devotion you possess.
"The immaterial must be known."
From the darkness at the back of your eyelids comes a deeper darkness still. Something blacker and fouler than any bile you've been forced to imbibe. A sour, bitter reminder of the demons you've slain. It's running through your veins.
Blood.
You thought it would never get out from under your fingernails, but there's no nails here. There's no hands. No maggots or foulness.
There's hope.
For the briefest of moments, you feel the presence of the Gods.
Strength and unrivaled discipline.
Cold, calculating judgement.
The totality of your failings.
An inscrutable gaze that has watched and judged and rejected your every move made to disgrace their names.
Through the dark comes a light. You cannot see Her, but you know Her well.
Spirit's finger plucks a thread of thought from your mind. Panic sets in from the sensation of having your skull burrowed into.
A terrified "please— don't," escapes your lips, but there is no sound. You have no lips with which to speak. No tongue.
Nothing but the mind.
The mind.
Your mind is a catastrophe— but the problem does not end there. You have gone from extreme to extreme— always looking towards the optimal end.
You are an addict.
You are a killer.
You are a hero.
The invocation you used to kill Nehliht was unlike anything you've ever experienced before. It was a gift. The Gods looked upon your triumphs, your work, and they saw potential squandered. You wandered in the dark for so long. Your failings have never been intentional. They knew you were sick then, as they know that you are sick now.
A very small part of your mind knows that somewhere, one of your best friends is trying to help you get through this.
Before you lies a narrow passageway. A string tugs at the forefront of your mind, urging you forward. You know that the floor is unsteady, and a monster lies at the other end in wait.
>A] Proceed.
>B] Go back.
>C] Write-in.
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