11. Father II
The Healing House stank of herbs and incense. Dozens of nets hung from the ceiling, cradling everything from basil to witchweed to fruit leather. The opened cabinets were a rainbow of stoppered remedies and experimental tinctures.
Somehow it was hotter and more humid inside the Healing House than it was outside.
Raziel placed the back of his hand to Verminta’s flushed forehead.
“Can we get some cool air in here? She’s overheating.”
“No can do. My plants flourish in tropical conditions, especially my fickle little Fukien Tea Tree,” said Dr. Tansy [Healer], slipping off his gloves. His crooked eyes looked down at Verminta. “Besides, the poison inside of her must denature. A little extra heat will only help the process along.”
Verminta’s mouth twisted in pain. Sweat darkened her golden hairline.
“Sorry,” Raziel whispered to her. “I’ll get you a strawberry ice cream when you’re better, okay?”
The girl either didn’t hear him or was in too much agony to respond.
He patted her hair.
“Where’s her mother? Is she coming?” asked the [Healer].
Raziel gave him a one-armed shrug. “Don’t know. Someone must’ve told her about what happened.”
“Well, I’d prefer to have her mother’s permission before I try a few of these treatments. Mind if I leave you here to watch over Ms. Skell? I’ll just pop over to her house and see who’s home,” said Dr. Tansy [Healer], collecting a few papers into his briefcase.
“Okay…” The skin between Raziel’s brows creased. “But don’t be gone for too long.”
With a salute, Dr. Tansy [Healer] pranced out the door. For a moment, a brief moment, a sweet breeze entered the room, only to be cruelly cut off when the door slammed shut. Afterwards, the room felt even more stifling.
Raziel grabbed the sheaf of medical notes sitting on the [Healer]’s desk and fanned Verminta’s face with it. The lines of discomfort around her eyes smoothed out.
He cared a little more about his friend than he did Dr. Tansy’s beloved Fukien.
“I’m here,” he said. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”
Verminta’s fingers weakly twitched. Then, her head lolled to the side and she fell asleep.
Good. Rest would help her fight the poison.
He set the medical notes aside and slumped into the chair next to her. Since he’d awakened his soul, this was his first moment alone. Today was Saturday. Church started in the evening. His plan had been to confront the [Priest] today, but Verminta’s condition was worse than he expected, and his presence seemed to bring her comfort.
The village celebrated their luck in having so few casualties. No one had died, and Verminta had been the only serious injury. Numbers-wise this was nothing short of a miracle.
Still… the only person injured just so happened to be his friend.
To Raziel, this wasn’t lucky at all.
He sighed. The [Healer] would be away for at least half an hour, giving Raziel a chance to finally examine his core. After all - during the attack, he’d seen something odd in one of his spell slots.
With a thought, Raziel pulled up his soulpane. He opened his Card Repository.
Five spell slots. Just like everyone else in Bramblebog.
[Vilehound] Beast Cards occupied two of the slots. Cracks ran across the face of the cards, shattering the beasts’ images. They lay on the ground, paws over their eyes.
Thankfully, his beast summons had stabilized at 15/100 HP. Slowly, their HP was increasing, and they now possessed 20/100 HP. But there was a larger issue. Their vessels - the cards themselves - weren’t repairing.
Raziel knew he had caused the damage.
He forced the [Vilehounds] to fight, overriding their will. Several times Raziel’s will slammed into theirs, pushing them forward, breaking their spirit, their soul. It was like playing with a toy too hard and damaging it. Cards could be fixed. He just needed alchemical ingredients. Unfortunately, the Beast Cards didn’t contain any information on what he needed to repair them. He’d have to figure that out himself.
So, tattered Beast Cards occupied two of his spell slots.
Raziel inspected his first spell slot. It contained a half-torn card. The bottom half.
The card showed a slender figure in dark red robes desperately reaching for something out of view, their head and shoulders torn off. Raziel searched for clues. The only other thing of note was the figure’s hand - they clutched the frame of the card, as if to ground them. A ring sparkled on their middle finger. The jewel was redder than blood.
A card’s name and grade were always located along the top. This meant that this ‘Red Figure’ Card was a complete mystery.
The [Galefury Jackalope] Beast Card’s aura felt like silver bells swaying in the breeze.
The [Vilehound] cards prickled his fingers and occasionally gave him heartburn.
The Red Figure Card gave off no impression.
Fueled by curiosity, Raziel reached into his soulpane and removed the card from the spell slot. He was surprised by how simple the process was, he -
Raziel’s heart wrenched.
He collapsed to the floor, tears flooding uncontrollably down his cheeks. Every half-aborted breath caused his chest to feel unrelenting, stabbing pain. His entire body felt swollen and deprived and so heavy that he couldn’t move.
The sensation was so overwhelming that he couldn’t even scream.
Raziel clawed against the floor, trying to regain some semblance of control over his body. He’d never felt this much agony in his life. With trembling fingers, he dropped the card onto the floor. The pain didn’t go away at once. It was a slow process, like a cloud passing across the sun.
He only recognized the pain in its pale, shallow form.
Grief.
This was an anguish that could shatter the sky and ruin the world. It was an emotional pain beyond human comprehension. He had never felt this way, never.
Raziel hadn’t cried in years.
Lifting the hem of his shirt, he wiped down his face with the linen. That feeling… was pure torture. Raziel never wanted to feel that way again. If he touched the card to put it back in his core, that anguish would course through his body again. He flinched at the idea.
This must be a powerful card. Just the scrap of it caused him so much pain. Raziel couldn’t just leave it there on the floor.
There was no choice. He had to put it back inside his core.
He’d have to touch it again.
It only took a second for Raziel to stuff the card back into one of his spell slots. Five minutes later, he was still curled up on the floor, gulping down ragged breaths.
The door to the Healing House opened. Verminta’s mother and Dr. Tansy [Healer] strolled inside.
“Boy, what are you doing here?” snapped Verminta’s mother. “Do you think I can’t take care of my own daughter? Get out! Get out!”
Raziel’s lip curled.
“Look at him, he’s completely torn up over her,” murmured Dr. Tansy [Healer], noticing the dried tear tracks on Raziel’s cheeks. “Maybe - “
“No!” bellowed Verminta’s mother. “I won’t have it!”
Raziel glanced at his friend, who peered at them through the reddened slits. She gave him a minute nod. Peeling himself off the floor, Raziel shouldered the two adults out of the way, escaping the Healing House.
The breeze had been an illusion. It wasn’t cooler out here at all.
//
On hot days like this, everyone looked forward to church. The building was dark and blessedly cool. As their sweat dried, the villagers listened to Father Linus [Priest], imprinting his words in their hearts.
“Mortals are the purest form of being, protected by fate and cherished by the Great Immortal Zu’en himself.” The [Priest] opened his arms with a smile brighter than the sun. “What could be more meaningful than knowing death exists, and not rejecting its embrace? Think about it! How satisfying do you find an unfinished book? Completion, a definitive ending, is what makes our lives so special.”
“Mortality is precious,” he said. “We are what it means to be human.”
The congregation formed a line. One by one they approached Father Linus for a blessing. With the utmost care, Father Linus pressed his bloody thumbprint onto their foreheads.
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Aunt Mielle, Uncle Callum, the Wealcrofts, the rest of the True Families. They came and then they went.
Finally, Raziel stepped forward. Father Linus offered him a simple nod.
The blood’s warmth penetrated deep into his mind. For the first time since Kindred’s death, Raziel felt like he had landed on some island of peace. The knot in his chest unwound, and his turbulent thoughts became glass-smooth.
> [Blessing of Clarity (+1 Insight for 1 Hour)]
> ATTRIBUTES
>
> Strength: 5/10
>
> Dexterity: 5/10
>
> Body: 2/10
>
> Soul Power: 5/20
>
> Magic Power: 3/10
>
> Cognition: 5/10
>
> Insight: 5/10 (+1)
'These blessings are magic too,’ thought Raziel.
A few stragglers had questions for the [Priest], but the man expertly fielded them away.
Then it was just Raziel and the [Priest]. Father Linus beckoned Raziel forward with two fingers.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” admitted Father Linus. “In my lifetime, this is how many times a child has been offered a combat class by the system.” He held up two fingers, then raised another.
Raziel nodded, taking it as a compliment. The pride he felt in being a [Hunter] was stronger than the humiliation of having an F-Rank aptitude.
Father Linus considered him. Then he set his circular sunglasses over his eyes.
“The last we spoke, I assured you that beasts wouldn’t be able to find Bramblebog. That the village would be safe. I was wrong,” said the [Priest]. “If you want answers, then perhaps it’s better if I showed you.”
The man stepped off the pulpit and the stone around it began to move and grind. Dust blossomed into the air.
And steps spiraled into the dark.
Raziel flexed his hands, his gaze fixated on the golden hem of Father Linus’s black cassock. As the man stepped downwards, the hem flounced and billowed like a ribbon in the wind.
“This place was built before the village was founded.” Father Linus’s voice covered the echoes of their footsteps. “I’m reasonably sure that it predates Great Immortal Zu’en himself, who lived over one million years ago.”
Raziel stuffed his hands in his pockets. The edge of his knives caressed the pads of his fingertips. As they went deeper and deeper underground, the glyphs carved into the white bricks began to emanate a soft blue light. The two [Vilehound] beast cards in his core growled fearfully. Raziel stared at his chest in horror. He slapped his hand over his core, unsure if Father Linus could hear the beast cards.
The torches lining the stairwell burst with azure flame, illuminating their way.
“Father Linus, what - ?” asked Raziel roughly.
Magic.
The steps ended. The pair found themselves in a small, circular chamber surrounded by lit torches.
“Out of curiosity, what do you feel when you’re in this room?”
The question gave Raziel pause. “I feel… the same as always?”
Father Linus hummed. “Then you must possess a very strong soul, Raz. That’s good.”
Raziel touched one of the glowing glyphs. The blue light suffused over his fingertips, cold like ice, then it wisped away.
“What is this stuff?”
“Spirit mana.”
Raziel shot away from the wall, scrubbing his fingers on his trousers. “You let me touch that?”
“It can feel unpleasant, but it’s harmless,” said Father Linus. “Do you know much about spirits?”
“They’re echoes of the dead.”
The man nodded, pleased.
“Spirits gain strength with the moon, which is why they’re commonly seen at night. They usually disappear when the sun rises. So let me ask you another question, Raz. Where do they go?”
Raziel hadn’t really thought about it. Perhaps, if he had to give an answer, he assumed spirits were like night-blooming flowers, closing up and hiding when the sun’s harsh rays fell over the land.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s okay. If the spirit is strong, they bleed up from the Spirit World into the mortal world. If the spirit is too weak, they sink back into the Spirit World.
He nodded.
Father Linus seemed amused by his quick reaction. “Not very many people know about the Spirit World. It’s extremely difficult to access… kind of like Bramblebog.”
The bright blue firelight highlighted the contours of Father Linus’s face, giving him the face of a trickster god. Raziel absolutely didn’t like what the man had just implied. “Father, what are you saying?”
The man brandished his arms like he was giving a sermon. “Gateways exist between the Spirit World and our own. Ancient gateways. This very chamber happens to be one of them.”
Raziel gazed around at the glowing glyphs with enlightenment.
“Countless generations ago, a prodigy was born in our village. They figured out how to harness the spirit mana bleeding from the gateway, using it to create a veil around Bramblebog.”
“...”
The [Priest] chuckled. “You might say that Bramblebog has one foot in the grave.”
“...”
“What? Can’t handle a joke?”
“Is it a joke if it’s true?” countered Raziel.
“Fair.” The man sighed. “Our village has one foothold in the mortal world, and one foothold in the Spirit World. A few decades ago, the local spirits lost their authority figure, and they’ve been in anarchy ever since. Their volatile energy surges through our veil and bleeds into our village. My fear is that this is causing Bramblebog to transmute into a ‘Spirit Village’.”
Raziel mentally turned over the man’s words.
Spirit Village. His mother had told him stories - Spirit Villages, Spirit Swamps, Spirit Seas. Places which only appeared on certain days, or under certain conditions. There was the fable of Grannus and the Great Astyraen Kingdom, the Kingdom which could only be found under dawn’s light.
From Father Linus’s explanation, Bramblebog’s veil was like a cheat code. They weren’t really in the mortal world, or the Spirit World, but somewhere in between where no one could find them.
But the unstable spirit mana powering the veil was changing Bramblebog’s very nature. Their village was turning into a Spirit Village. This meant that right now, under certain conditions, the veil thinned and Bramblebog was pretty easy to find.
If Bramblebog became a true Spirit Village, under certain conditions, the veil would vanish entirely.
“And the Four Fallen Kings…?”
“Demons, or gods, or something in between,” murmured the [Priest]. “Heresy.”
Raziel ran a hand through his hair. What was the [Priest] even saying? His eyes suddenly flicked to the man. “You… you’re okay with that?”
Father Linus’s expression was as solemn and steady as granite. “I was at the ritual to make sure nothing went wrong. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize how severe the veil’s imbalance had become. The ritual attracted [Vilehounds] and the veil was too thin at that moment to hide our village from them.”
“But - “
“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell the ritualists they had an extra guest.”
Raziel’s heart filled with the blackest venom. “My friend almost died because of the [Vilehound] attack. She still might,” said Raziel. “So I hope protecting the True Family kids was worth it.”
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can say to make right with Verminta Skell - I can only hope for redemption through my own actions.” Father Linus’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “Raz, there’s a reason why I only wanted to bring you in if you had a combat class. I will be entering the gateway and examining the veil to diagnose exactly what is happening to our village. Spirits, demons, and gods all live in this world. If you’re interested in facing some, you can come with me.”
Raziel paused. “That depends. Can these beings be killed?”
The walls were cold and steady around them, the glyphs pulsing gently with blue light. Raziel and the [Priest] looked at each other.
Father Linus’s lips twitched. “Yes - want me to show you? I can bless your weapons. Bring them here…”
There was some obvious explanation that went unsaid. You can kill anything, but only if you’re strong enough. If Raziel was ten thousand times stronger than he was right now, he still might not be able to slay the Four Fallen Kings. He needed experience. He needed higher stats. He needed training.
Father Linus was presenting an opportunity to do those things.
He handed the [Priest] his knives, wishing he’d brought his bow.
Father Linus murmured words over the blades and warm, white mana suffused over them. The rows of azure firelight dimmed, pushed down by the holy magic.
“We need a certain amount of spirits to power the veil, but not all of them. We’ll exterminate the most dangerous, most volatile…” the [Priest]’s sunglasses gleamed in the blue firelight. “We’ll get the spirit who ate Mielle’s girl.”
A surge of emotions filled Raziel.
We’ll find Kindred. I’ll prove to everyone she’s alive.
A thought occurred to Raziel while watching the [Priest]’s blatant display of magic. “Wait a second. If we have the veil, then why are we banned from using magic?”
“Economics.”
Raziel furrowed his brows.
“There’s a limited amount of alchemical resources in Bramblebog. If everyone strives towards divinity, then no one succeeds.” Father Linus gave Raziel a meaningful look. “We secretly invest in a few talented individuals in case the village encounters trouble. It’s their duty to sacrifice their mortality for the benefit of our people.”
Father Linus handed him back his weapons.
In one fluid motion Raziel drew his best knife -
> [Hunter’s Pursuit Activated (+1 Strength, +3 Dexterity)]
- and slashed it across the [Priest]’s throat.
The tip of the blade was half a centimeter away from grazing the man’s skin when Raziel found his hand completely immobile. The [Priest]’s fist had closed around his own.
Raziel's bluff paid off.
With the Hunter’s Pursuit buff, Raziel had 8/10 Dexterity. His knife moved like it was part of an exquisite dance, quick and graceful. As far as he knew, [Priest] wasn’t a combat class, which meant…
“You have 9/10 or 10/10 Dexterity, don’t you?” he asked. “Now why would a [Priest] need to be that agile?”
The man gave him a thin smile. “To protect others. And myself, it seems.”
Raziel let his arm drop. “Will it be just the two of us on this trip?”
The [Priest] smoothed down his cassock. “You’ll have to excuse me, Raz, for playing a bit of politics. The main reason I’m bringing you on is because - ”
“ - is because the insolence of priests can’t be underestimated,” came a deep and cold whisper.
Azure firelight blazed and the whole chamber became bright with it.
Warning bells rang in Raziel’s mind. That person - that shadow - wasn’t human.
The man had features in the way a memory had features. His blood red eyes and wine-dark lips were emphasized by the ghastly whiteness of his skin. Layers of blood-soaked gauze wrapped around his thigh. A jewel sparkled between his brows. However, when Raziel tried to focus on any one feature, his entire appearance seemed to scatter like something forgotten. His designation was completely incomprehensible, as if there were ten class names stacked on top of each other.
The text above the man’s head smoothed out - [Wraith].
“Raziel,” said Father Linus in a calm tone. “Meet an ancestor of yours. He died the day you were born, so fortunately you haven’t had to spend any time around him.”
The [Wraith] snarled at the [Priest]. “Cunt.”
Father Linus clapped his hands. “Shall we get going?”
The blue inferno bathed the walls in dancing silhouettes. Shadows deepened and darkened and coalesced to form an arch on the wall.
Raziel wondered where on the family tree the [Wraith] belonged. He looked like he’d died young.
The [Wraith] folded into the form of a crow and winged into the shadow door.
“You want to find your girl cousin-” the [Wraith]’s sharp voice came and lingered in Raziel’s ears even though the spirit himself had gone. “But if you see the truth, will you accept it?”