Chương 7: Chapter 6 - Church on the Outskirts

Ren stumbled and planted his hands on the dirt, sucking in deep breaths of winter air as the weight of the words Varrin just spoke closed in around him. Deep down he knew Varrin's previous deductions were right, and that wherever they were now was not Xantris, he just didn't want to accept them. How could he? How could he when Yumè needed him to be there.' Was it because I fell asleep?

'Ren thought, digging his fingers into the cold dirt,' Did one of the six gods pull me here? Which one did I anger? I've never been the most pious person, sure, but why? Why me!' Ren's body felt as weak as his chances, his plans to save Yumè were crushed. How was he going to get back? Save his sister? Make everything right? Earth crunched beside him and Ren looked up to see Varrin walking away, continuing wordlessly towards where the church's steeple was visible over the building's roofs.' Yumè…

'he clenched the dirt in his fists harder.' What am I supposed to do now?' With a frustrated sigh, Ren sat up, letting the dark cold dirt run through his fingers and onto his knees in defeat. His eyes scanned the small buildings that lined the dirt road. It all seemed so familiar, but this was becoming more like a bad dream than a good memory. Ren tipped his head up to look at the sky, the constant blue giving him the peace of something normal as he took a breath in.'

Nothing's changed, I can't just give up now, Yumè needs me.' He looks back at Varrin, who was still making his way towards the small church.' Like it or not, I'm going to get back. And I'll give it my all...' Ren got up and brushed the dirt off of his legs before quickly jogging towards the silver-haired boy.' …Because I have to save Yumè.' His chest still tightened painfully, but Ren chose to ignore it. Varrin spared a glance at him just as he pulled up beside him.

"All finished?" the silver-haired boy asked casually, "You could've stayed with the princess if the sight of a couple coins was going to break you."

"No," Ren responded with a shake of his head, "I'm fine. I know what I need to do now."

"Good," Varrin said succinctly.

"Whatever was making you act like that, there's no use in worrying about it now."' he's right,'Ren acknowledged inwardly,' One step at a time.'

"Are you going to lose your composure again?" Varrin checked once more, the buildings growing sparser and the wheat fields coming back into view as the two of them reached the edge of the village.

"I can't have you causing a scene when we talk to this Firekeeper Agatha."

"I'm alright now," Ren reiterated, "you don't need to worry about me messing things up."

"I'm trusting you," the silver-haired boy said with a nod towards their destination.

"Let's go." The small church stood quietly as the boys approached the entrance, casting a long shadow in the afternoon sun. To its right, the wheat fields came to an abrupt end, while a wide expanse of open green stretched away on its left, circled by a dark treeline some two hundred metres distant. It was a humble building, its stone walls weathered and streaked with moss while its orange and yellow stained-glass windows offered a warm and welcoming feeling.

The tall steeple rose from its roof, casting an even longer shadow over the heavy wooden doors at its front. This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Above those doors, carved into the stone lintel, was a symbol depicting a sun nesting on a flame. Ren stopped short as he looked at it.

"…It's the same," he said quietly, causing Varrin to pause and follow his gaze as well.

"As the coin? Yes it is," the silver-haired boy agreed.

"Same as the tapestry in the tavern too." Ren didn't recognise it as the symbol of any gods or goddess' from the pantheon back home, nor of any cult the Inquisition paraded around after capturing a batch of them.' Just another confirmation,' he thought grimly, a faint prickle crawling up his spine. Forcing the feelings down yet again, he climbed the steps to the doors and reached out to open it. But right before he could, his soul lurched.

A sharp pressure snapped tight behind his eyes, the world narrowing in a heartbeat. His body shifted before his mind could catch up, his weight rolled back and his muscles tensed, breath caught mid-draw. No thought guided it, only a deep, wordless certainty that something was about to happen. It was his Soul Attribute, [Survival Instincts], activating. Just then the door burst open, and thanks to the warning Ren had enough time to get out of the way before a figure stumbled out.

"Ah—sorry!" A girl emerged, apologising as she struggled slightly under the weight of a large wooden tub sloshing with water. She had dirty blonde hair tied back messily into a ponytail, loose strands clinging to her temples. Simple black and grey robes marked her, presumably, as clergy of some kind. What caught Ren's attention, however, was her face. Or rather—what covered it. A smooth silver mask obscured her eyes entirely, polished but unadorned, leaving only the lower half of her face visible.

Her skin was fair, unmarred, her apologetic expression aimed directly at him despite the mask.' How does she even see?' Ren thought as he stepped back to get out of her way.

"My apologies," the girl said again, steadying the tub. Her voice was soft, pure and melodic in a way that felt almost out of place.

"Lady Agatha is inside, if you're looking for her."

"… Thank you," he responded. The girl smiled faintly, then turned and carefully descended the church steps, moving with surprising confidence despite the burden she carried and her seeming lack of sight. As she passed them, Ren noticed something else. A small lantern floated just behind her shoulder. It drifted as if it were tethered solely to her presence, its flame steady despite the cold breeze. Ren and Varrin watched until she disappeared around the side of the church.' [Survival Instincts] is quite helpful.'

he thought before turning to his companion and saying, "… Well, what do you make of that?" Varrin didn't respond right away, his eyes lingering on the doorway, sharp and assessing.

"A couple theories, but nothing set in stone yet." And without waiting a moment longer, the silver-haired boy climbed the steps again and went inside the church. Ren hesitated only a moment longer, casting one last glance at the flame symbol carved above the entrance before he followed after Varrin. The interior was much warmer than he had expected a stone building exposed to nature and separate from the rest of the village to be.

Not just in temperature either, as it gave off an homely and comforting presence as well. A single long hall stretched ahead of them, its ceiling held aloft by thick stone pillars lining both sides. The stone was old, smoothed by time and care rather than decay, and faintly warm to the touch, as if it had absorbed heat long ago and never let it go.

Orange and yellow banners hung between the pillars, reminiscent of the tapestry in the tavern and the guards' tabards at the bar, their fabric embroidered with the same symbol carved above the entrance. Some were faded, others freshly mended, but all were spotless. At the far end of the hall, where Ren would have assumed an altar should have stood, rested a small brazier. Its fire burned quiet and brightly, casting a soft golden glow that painted the stone in flickering light.

Ren slowed without realising it and pressed his hand against one of the first pillars in the hall.' This place is nothing like the church back in my village,' he thought. And yet, while this church was unfamiliar, it was somehow so homely. He looked around, trying to find something to connect this feeling to, but there was nothing. Only flame. Footsteps echoed softly across the stone floor. An elderly woman approached from between the pillars, her posture upright despite her age.

Wisps of grey hair framed her face, lines etched deeply at the corners of her mouth and chin. Like the girl before, she wore simple black-and-grey clerical robes, but her mask was different. It was still metal, and still obscuring her eyes, but this one was engraved with fine patterns that surrounded an orange gem that sat central in the mask, catching the firelight. A lantern floated at her side as well but unlike the younger girl's, this one's flame burned brighter, tinged faintly with gold.

"Oh," the woman said kindly, pausing a few steps away.

"You must be the Hunters I sent for."