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The Skin-Bound Tome - Book 2
Chapter 18 - Reconsiderations

Chapter 18 - Reconsiderations

“And you’re sure about that?”, the Matron asked Lodwin with a sceptical look on her worn face.

The other children were playing fetch and ran shouting past them. Lodwin ignored their laughter despite it making him want to join in. Yet, he knew, despite his young age, that this decision was important.

“I am”, Lodwin replied with his hands behind his back.

“You know you could lead a different life”, she continued, looking after the other children with a pleased, almost wistful glint in her eyes. “A happy and, most importantly, long one. You’re too young to truly make this decision.”

“But it’s my decision since I was saved and brought here”, he continued. “And Father Gauti already told me I’ve what’s needed to become a knight.”

At this, the Matron’s face contorted into an exhausted frown mixed with resignation. It was the face of a person who had experienced this exact conversation multiple times a week for the last couple of decades. Lodwin felt bad for causing the old woman to worry, but he knew what he wanted. He wanted to become a knight, just like the men who had saved him from the creatures who had abducted him when he had been just a small baby.

Suddenly, Lodwin took note of the surrounding silence. The Matron also seemed alarmed and looked towards the cluster the other children had formed at the entrance to the courtyard they were in. In front of the door, partly hiding behind Father Gauti, while clutching the old man’s brown habit, stood a frightened blond boy with a tense expression.

“Matron Ingild!”, the old man called and moved ahead while gently prodding the ground with his long wooden staff.

“I’m here, Father Gauti!”, the Matron replied and headed towards him while already shooing the other children out of the way.

Lodwin followed her while looking with curiosity at the boy at the old man’s side. Despite his tense expression and his clear apprehension, the boy looked like he had stepped out of one of the stained-glass windows, of which there were plenty around the whole Headquarters of the Crimson Hand.

“Who do we have here?”, she said in the cooing tone she always used to address frightened children. “What a handsome young lad you are!”

“The boy’s name is Rosomil”, the old man said and pushed the boy gently but firmly forward. “He’s to be placed under your care until the Questioning in six months time.”

“Are you already old enough for it?”, she asked the boy in a motherly tone as if Father Gauti weren’t there and the one talking.

“The Grand Master and I have decided that he appears to be old enough, Matron”, he replied stern, his blind white eyes narrowing underneath his bushy eyebrows. “Your task is to prepare him and the other children, who are eager to join the Order proper, like usual.”

“He wants to join?”, she asked surprised and looked at the old man for the first time.

“Indeed, Matron”, Father Gauti continued. “But even if he hadn’t done so out of his own accord, the Grand Master and I would have decided so for him as he possesses rare abilities useful to the Crimson Hand. To have him become a shepherd, farmer, or craftsman would be much too wasteful, Matron. It would be like you wasting your best copper cooking pot as a flowerpot. Certainly, a good use but a waste considering its usefulness in the kitchen, don’t you agree?”

“Yes, Father Gauti”, she replied, clearly displeased with the old man but stayed her tongue.

“Very well”, the old man continued. “I’ll expect your usual dedication to having the children be thoroughly prepared. May the Lord be with you.”

Without wasting any time, he turned around and left. The boy, Rosomil, looked after the old man with a tense expression.

Suddenly, the other children swarmed him, asking questions about him, where he came from and what had happened. Within seconds, he was cornered. Visibly distraught, Rosomil looked around for an escape and found none.

“Children!”, shouted Matron Ingild and went between them and the newcomer. “This isn’t how we greet new brothers and sisters, now, is it?”

“No, Matron”, they replied in unison.

“Good”, she replied sternly. “And remember: all of your questions will be answered in due time if you all let the poor boy grow accustomed to all of you. Now I want everyone to run off and play!”

Laughing again, the others continued their game of fetch as if nothing had happened. Lodwin on the other side remained close by, much to the motherly disapproval of Matron Ingild. But the old woman let him be for now and sat down beside Rosomil, who looked quite shaken.

“I’m sorry that the other children frightened you”, she explained, while Lodwin slowly approached them. “They can be a rowdy bunch, but they’re good children. I’m certain you’ll do well with them in no time at all.”

Rosomil just looked at her and then glanced over to the others, who tumbled into each other laughing. He seemed all but convinced that he would like them even in a hundred years.

“Did you have something to eat?”, the Matron asked warmly. “It’s midday soon, and I’ve prepared a proper stew for all of you. Since you’re new here and most likely didn’t have something proper to eat in a long time, you can eat as much as you want. What say you? Are you hungry?”

“A bit…”, he murmured, and looked like he had asked for something he didn’t deserve.

“Then you can eat first”, she replied and stood up. “Wait here while I fetch you something.”

Without waiting for a reply, she went towards Lodwin and leaned down to him.

“Since you’re both of the same age and want to become knights, I want you to keep an eye out for him”, she told him. “Especially if the other children do get pushy again.”

“Yes, Matron”, he replied and waited until she was gone before he openly approached Rosomil.

“Do you mind if I sit down next to you?”, he asked the newcomer.

Instead of replying, he just shook his head.

“My name’s Lodwin, by the way, but you can call me Lod if you like”, he said as he sat down. “Since you also want to become a knight, I think we should stick together, don’t you think? What’s your name?”

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“R-rosomil”, he replied meekly.

“Nice to meet you!”, Lodwin responded with a board smile.

Lodwin did continue to talk, but somehow he couldn’t hear his own words. At the same time, everything started to shift and turn until everything seemed like an old faded painting.

Suddenly, he stood in front of his former friend and brother in arms on the grounds of castle Eldebourg. With this, his anger reignited, but only for a small, intense burst. Rosomil’s sad gaze made him hesitate. While the anger of his betrayal was still there, he also felt uncertain about his ultimate goal. Lodwin hated himself for this weakness. Yet even this hatred couldn’t stay ablaze.

Slowly, Lodwin opened his eyes and saw nothing beyond darkness. After a few moments, the darkness became somewhat lighter and allowed him to recognise the timbers of the roof above. At the same time, the sounds of someone breathing close beside him reached his ears.

Lodwin turned his head with some difficulty and looked directly into Veduca’s pretty face. Immediately, he took note of how spent she looked, which caused him to wonder how much time had passed and what had happened during this timeframe.

“Let her sleep”, murmured Azazel behind him, who sounded equally tired and spent. “All of us still need to rest.”

What happened?, he asked directly.

At this, Azazel sighed. For a moment, it seemed like the demon didn’t want to tell him, but then he cleared his throat and began to recount what had happened. While there were certain parts where he seemed to omit a few things, Lodwin decided to press further at a later point.

So, you tell me, Rosomil was killed by a Divine Intervention?, he asked Azazel with a frown. I can hardly believe it, goatman.

“Well, he’s certainly still alive ”, he replied with a dry chuckle. “Nothing has changed and one of his minions even managed to find us.”

We were already found? Then why are we wasting precious time? We need to flee!

“Don’t lose your head like this! My dearie managed to convince the boy to help us out.”

By telling his master all he knows?

“Apparently he hasn’t, or we would be already swarmed by the Divine Lord’s minions.”

Lodwin ground his teeth and looked over at Veduca, who was sleeping as if they weren’t in constant danger. A part of him envied her for it, but another part knew that it was unjust for him to feel this way. She was probably equally, if not more, exhausted and worried than him.

“Do you think you can walk?”, Azazel asked after a few moments.

I can try, Lodwin replied without looking away from Veduca.

“Not now”, said Azazel, sounding almost like a father tending to his sick child. “Rest some more. We’ve time.”

Despite knowing that he was at least partial right, Lodwin felt the urge to get his body moving again. His joints hurt and some of his muscles felt too tense for his liking. So he got up slowly and started to stretch. Azazel made a disapproving sound but didn’t comment further on his actions.

Lodwin also needed the movement to clear his mind. He didn’t care to admit it, but the dream or rather memory of how he had met Rosomil lingered in his head. His former friend had been a shy child of few words but easy to get along with. Although at first, he had suspected he had just tolerated his babbling, he had never let him down during their apprenticeship and even later during their missions. They had been ordained as brothers in arms for a reason. A reason which now seemed so fleeting and unimportant.

For a moment, Lodwin stopped his stretches and looked at his hands. The memory of his death stirred once more. Rosomil’s face contorted by some feral need. But below this need, Lodwin imagined remembering regret. For the first time since his resurrection he felt doubt. Doubt about his own feelings. Doubt about the honesty within the murderous intent of his former friend.

“Don’t you dare”, growled Azazel behind him.

Lodwin turned around with a tense frown. The demon seemed like a dark miasma inside the corner of the room. Only his myriad crimson eyes glistened in the dark, burning with a fire akin to hell.

“You are mine no matter what, mortal”, the demon continued, with his voice uncharacteristically deep and dripping with anger and hate for all things living. “Remember that. And remember that you can only walk the earth thanks to me. Break the contract and I’ll take you! You’re mine! Mine!”

Lodwin reacted without thing. He grabbed his sword as Azazel leaped at him. But before he could reach him, the demon was blown away by a burst of energy and wind. He crashed into the remains of the fireplace and trashed around it like a rabid animal while letting out a bone chilling wail.

“Father! What’s got into you?”, asked Veduca, shocked.

Azazel suddenly stopped his trashing and groaned in pain. Visibility worried, she was about to head to him, but Lodwin held her back. He expected her to pull free, but instead she half cowered. Alarmed, Lodwin readied his sword and pushed her gently behind himself.

Azazel let out another growl, but instead of attacking, he bit into his arm. He shook his head like a hunting dog shook a hare. Blood splattered across the ground. Finally, he let go and ran the claws of both his hand deep across his monstrous face, drawing more blood, but at the same time some relief crossed Azazel’s face. Words left his mangled lips, desperate pleading words, spoken in Aramaic.

“Father…”, whispered Veduca trembling and pushed slightly past Lodwin.

Azazel grew smaller until he was in his human form. His self-inflicted wounds healed up, but the blood remained on his skin and on his face. He looked spend and rattled.

“I’m sorry”, he said, his voice hoarse. “I… It’s because of me, just having one halo left. Some base instincts have changed. Lodwin… I’m sorry, but you need to continue. We need to continue.”

I don’t care about your fate, goat, he replied and tensed up. My decisions are mine alone, and I don’t want to get out of our contract. My soul is yours anyway, so I do want to see it to the end I want. It’s all I’ve left, and I don't intent to waste anything.

At this Azazel chuckled. “You’re an interesting man.”

I didn’t ask for your opinion!

“True. And since you’re well on your legs, we can leave this place for somewhere saver.”

“I doubt there are any save places left”, Veduca remarked tense.

“That’s also true”, Azazel replied serious. “But it’s a place where neither the Divine Lord nor his demon will guess we’ll seek refuge, despite the damnable creature already knowing of the man I want you to seek out.”

I’m not going to someone who works with the Divine Lord, said Lodwin grim.

“The poor soot doesn’t work for the Divine Lord but was visited by his demon who acted very unexpectedly”, he explained. “He’s a member of the Orders of Friars Minor. A very meek but intriguing fellow. I want you to investigate him and lay in wait for the demon. It will return, I’m certain of that, and once it does, you can ambush it.”

“Ambush the Ravendemon?”, asked Veduca surprised. “We couldn’t even defeat it when Rosomil held it back! How do you think we fair with it fighting with all its might?”

“During the fight with the angel, I noticed that the divine blade Uriel wielded was causing it harm. My guess is that the church the Friar resides in holds enough power to at least dampen its abilities. You might even get to talk to it and convince it to break the contract it has with the Divine Lord.”

“It did protect him.”

“Contractual obligation.”

“It didn’t look like this was just a contractual obligation.”

The angel called the demon Transient. What does this mean?

At this Azazel stared at him surprised.

“What did you tell my father?”, asked him Veduca confused.

“He asked a good question”, the fallen angel replied, thoughtful. “I, too, wonder what it could mean. Transient… Impermanent… A visitor…”

“What is this demon?”, asked Veduca tense. “Since the whole ordeal started I never gave it enough thought. I can’t place this being. The closest I could define it would be a pagan god. But I don’t know of any such gods fitting this demon.”

“We need to stop speculating and get moving”, Azazel remarked after a tense moment. “I do feel tired…”

“Then shouldn’t we rather rest a little longer?”, she suggested timidly. “Considering… your situation…”

“I’ll rest on my own. You don’t need to worry about me”, he replied shaking his head. “Might even be better. You two can make way toward the Friar, I’ll catch up in no time.”

Lodwin watched weary how Azazel imparted his knowledge of the way to the Friar with a few gestures to Veduca, who made a tense face. For a moment, he once more placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, but nothing bad happened. Once the exchange was done, Azazel vanished like a gust of wind.

Are you alright?, asked Lodwin Veduca with a few soft gestures.

“Yes, dear. I’m fine”, she replied with an honest, albeit slightly fluttering smile.

Suddenly, Lodwin felt his strength waning. With a hiss, he was forced on his knees and could only keep upright thanks to his sword and Veduca reacting immediately.

“Are you hurt? Did father harm you?”, she asked alarmed.

He shook his head and signed that he just hadn’t recovered enough. She nodded and helped him down on the bedroll he had woken up on.

“How about I cook something?”, she asked with a warm smile. “You ought to be hungry.”

He signed her that he was and laid back down. While her cooking wasn’t the best, it was much better than nothing at all. Soon after he had eaten, he fell asleep faster than he had thought possible.