After all the administrative work was taken care of, Rosomil had returned to his study. The Skin-Bound Tome rested on its lectern and looked for the moment like any ordinary book. Usually Rosomil would’ve started to decipher more of its pages, but he didn’t find it within himself to even touch the book for now. All of his thoughts somehow managed to wander back to the visions, more memory than dream, he had had during his unconsciousness.
For many years, he had suppressed those images and feelings. The only thing he had kept from his first few years of life, was his drive to save those, whom, like him, didn’t have the chance to save themselves on their own. All those children as well as men and women alike he had saved… All those beaten and tortured souls… He could still see their sparkling tearful eyes as they kneeled on the ground surrounding him, holding tightly onto his robes when he freed them.
Their idolising of his person had always disturbed him. There had never been a case where he had felt like the saviour everyone had made him out to be. For every soul, he saved ten more he had to leave behind. For every life spared, ten more had to be sacrificed.
With a deep sigh, Rosomil stood up from his desk and walked over to the window. This time he didn’t open it and just regarded the melancholy landscape beneath the castle. He felt much older than he supposed to be. All of his life before he met the Ravendemon, like an entire another life. As if he had merely taken over someone else’s existence.
Feeling numb, he returned to the Tome. There was just one way to keep his mind from wandering: work. But this time, despite concentrating on the Tome, his mind eventually returned to his childhood…
—
“After a fortnight of travel, it’s always a relief to lay your weary eyes on the place you call home”, said Father Walamēr as they had passed the walled in mountain pass.
Rosomil couldn’t help but stare, despite the bright sunlight still hurting his eyes. The valley they were now in looked like a paradise. The meadows were filled with grass and wildflowers. Fields were being worked on by healthy, happy looking people in bright clothes. Groups of trees framed the cobbled path. A myriad of birds sang within the thick crowns of the trees, while sheep bleated in the distance. There were also hints of a song drifting along the wind from the fields. The air was filled with the smell of the flowers as well as insects buzzing around the colourful carpet. Never before had Rosomil seen something like this or even imagined such a beautiful place could exist.
“This will be your new home, boy”, said Walamēr with a warm smile.
“Home…”, repeated Rosomil and looked towards the huge castle-like buildings on top the hill overseeing the valley and a small village at its foot.
He didn’t really know what this word meant at the time, but going by the old man’s gentle tone and soft smile, it was something good. Still, the wagons and riders were still some distance away from the hill.
Upon coming closer, Rosomil felt a certain oppressive aura emit from the massive walls surrounding what appeared to be a large complex of buildings on top of the hill. Part of him was reminded of the cult he had been saved from. Only this time it wasn’t just a dense wood surrounding them, but a massive wall. Yet, the thought alone of the gates closing behind him, made him tremble.
“You’re alright, boy?”, asked Unigis, who rode on his horse right next to the wagon.
“There’s no need to be nervous”, said Walamēr, fatherly. “You’ll see, Father Gauti and the Grandmaster are good people and will consider you fairly.”
“Captain Aswald will also go with you”, said Unigis, who had grown much more friendly towards him during the journey.
“You won’t come along?”, asked Rosomil timidly as they stopped.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t just walk in on the Grandmaster or Father Gauti”, he answered with a nervous laugh. “I was ordained barely six months ago. I’m just one of the common knights.”
“S-sorry”, he replied and looked at his hands clutching the blanket Walamēr had given him.
“There’s no need to apologise”, he replied and looked over to where the other knights walked to.
Rosomil followed his gaze towards a huge fountain depicting a winged man with what looked like a winged serpent at his feet. Around the statue were a few women in black dresses and veils covering their heads along a few men of different ages all wearing rough looking brown robes. Judging by their expressions, they seemed happy of their return despite the rather somber atmosphere.
But before Rosomil could take it all in, he was approached by Aswald, who ordered Unigis and Walamēr to join the others. He watched them leave with an unreadable expression, then he turned to Rosomil, who tightened his grip on the blanket. He felt suddenly very alone without Unigis and Walamēr.
“It’s time”, said Aswald and picked him up.
Rosomil held still and let himself be carried past the knights and people who had welcomed them. Some of the women looked at him with pleasant surprise, but no one stopped or spoke to Aswald.
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The captain took Rosomil along a well-kept path towards the largest building of the complex. The building loomed like a dark mountain above Rosomil, who felt fear once more well up within him. He didn’t want to return into the dark, despite the bright midday sun being too much for him. At the same time, he didn’t dare to openly show his aversion and fear.
The main entrance of the building was almost as grand as the gate but flanked and decorated by a myriad of elaborate statues and engravings, framing the dark wooden doors. At either side of which stood a knight in polished armour and crimson lining holding long halberds in their arms. Both men looked for a second at Aswald as he let Rosomil down. For a moment, he thought that they would stop them, but as Aswald prodded him gently forward, nothing happened.
Inside the building, Rosomil fought the urge to hide. The darkness within wasn’t as suffocating as the one inside the cave of the cult, but close enough for him to flatter. Aswald seemed to notice his hesitation and stopped.
“You needn’t be afraid, boy”, he told him. “You’ve seen the massive stone walls as we entered, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Sire”, he replied silently.
“They were built to protect those within and outside this monastery”, he continued to explain. “And within these walls no ill shall befall you. Inside these walls, you’re safe.”
Rosomil nodded and looked towards the huge staircase. Upon looking there, he noticed the huge coloured windows depicting various serine looking people fighting or standing victorious above various monsters, with the hugest window being reminiscent of the fountain outside. Aswald followed his gaze and smiled.
“Those are saints and accomplished knights of our order”, he explained. “They are those who save innocents like you from the clutches of dark fiends and evil cults. True saviours and heroes. And you will become one of them.”
Rosomil looked up at the shining windows once more. He didn’t want to be depicted in such a way, but the thought of helping people in need, of saving people like his wet-nurse before they were tortured and killed, was growing on him. It would be the right thing to do. The best thing.
“But before you can become a knight, we need to talk to the Grandmaster and Father Gauti”, explained Aswald, took Rosomil’s hand in his and moved him towards the stairs.
Together, they climbed the stone stairs towards the platform where the windows were and then turned around to another set of stairs, this time made from wood. The steps were worn and creaked underneath Aswald’s armoured boots.
After reaching the next landing, Aswald walked down a wide corridor with more colourful windows and plenty of alcoves and potted plants close to the windows. On their way, a few hooded men in dark robes walked past them. They greeted Aswald by bowing their heads, but without saying a word. Aswald didn’t slow down either and went towards an ornate door, adorned by wines made from silver and gold surrounding a silver pigeon holding an olive branch in its beak.
The large armoured man took a deep breath and knocked. A few moments later, the door was opened by a middle-aged man in fine dark clothing and a wide brimmed head, with a thin sword at his hip and a reddish beard accentuating his stern face. Upon recognising Aswald, his serious expression softened.
“Good to see you, Aswald, and welcome back”, the man said and looked down at Rosomil. “Do come in, I was about to leave, but I can stay for a few moments longer.”
“Thank you, Grandmaster”, Aswald replied and entered the sun-drenched room with Rosomil in tow.
The room was dominated by a huge set of upholstery in warm colours around a large table made from dark wood with two candelabras on it. The walls were mainly covered by bookshelves filled with different tomes and folios, as well as worn scrolls. In between the bookshelves, even above the active fireplace, hung tapestries depicting different mythological creatures and knights fighting them. There was also a massive giant desk by one of the windows with books and parchments as well as an inkwell along a quill on top of it. The whole room emitted an aura of welcoming warmth.
Rosomil didn’t know where to look first, but after a moment he noticed an old man with a long white beard on one of the chairs, close by the fire. The man looked like a stature in his long, ornate black robes, but his gnarly hands kneading a wooden walking stick showed that he was real. But what took Rosomil off guard were the dull grey eyes, which seemed to stare into nothingness underneath thick pitch-black eyebrows.
“Welcome home, Aswald”, said the old man without moving. “Judging by the additional footsteps, you brought someone with you. A child, I presume?”
“Yes, Father Gauti”, he replied, and went with the Grandmaster towards the old man. “We saved the boy during our latest deployment, and he shows promise to become one of the knights.”
“Since it is you, who suggests this, the boy must have the Second Sight like you”, the old man remarked, chuckling.
“He seems about to be the appropriate age for the Choosing Ceremony”, the Grandmaster said, regarding Rosomil like the leader of the cult, which made him grow instinctively smaller. “But he doesn’t look like he has the necessary fortitude.”
“Courage can be found in every heart”, replied Aswald stern. “Given the right treatment, he will find it and become a great knight.”
“We cannot have someone with the Second Sight become a farmer, carpenter, or smith”, said Father Gauti. “We have more than enough of those and a good number of competent fighters, but not enough who can learn to sense and wield magic themselves. Bring the boy to me and let me have a look.”
Aswald pushed Rosomil forward. Hesitant, he obeyed and walked to the old man, who had a distinctive smell of burned wood and old parchment around him. Rosomil stopped right in front of him and watched how Father Gauti slowly reached for his face. Rosomil froze as the cold claw-like fingers touched him. Unpleasant memories rearing their monstrous heads. Immediately, he fought the urge to back away. The urge to run and hide.
“I see”, said Father Gauti, let gently go of him and leaned back. “There’s a deep pain within him… A pain born from witnessing and enduring cruelty… His soul is marked by it, but not poisoned. He has the potential to become a beacon of hope. Beyond that, he’s just too thin for my liking.”
“That’s something Matron Ingild will take care of in no time”, said Aswald amused, which caused both the Grandmaster and Father Gauti to laugh.
“Then I’ll take him to her”, said the old man, and stood up, surprisingly limber for his apparent age.
“So be it”, said the Grandmaster, and turned to Aswald, pulling him away to the other side of the room.
“Follow me, boy”, said Father Gauti, and moved ahead towards the door.
Rosomil followed him reluctant. Although he wanted to stay with Aswald, he was afraid of the potential consequences of disobeying. Still, he glanced over his shoulder towards Aswald, who looked at him and made a gesture telling him to go and follow Father Gauti. He turned around and saw the old man waiting by the door. Hastily, he left the room.