Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue.

Long-Ass Author's Note:
Aw, I was hoping someone would get the small Easter Egg-type thing for SH2 in the previous chapter. I'll point it out in the next chap if no one gets it.

When someone proselytizes, it means that they are attempting to convert you to their faith. Hence, proselytization.

Now, in reference some reviews, here's a bit of a write-up about Walter's character in this story. (It's okay 'cause this chapter's short anyway…)

BRIEF EXPO ON WALTER'S CHARACTER:
Walter's first and foremost motivation will always be his mother. It was not only because he wanted to be with her, but because he wanted to cleanse her that he performed the 21 Sacraments.

His change of heart towards Henry comes solely from the Holy Mother's words to him, that Henry would not only play a key role in her empowerment but had been chosen to be his other half. There are certain motivations behind this besides rewarding him for being a good son (or, in actuality, a misled servant), but they will be discussed later in the story. If She had never told Walter this, I think he would continue to see Henry as simply a Sacrament. But since She has said this, Walter may appreciate something for his own benefit (companionship and "potential" love) as he has been striving for Her benefit since he was a boy.

Now, in regards to the idea of Walter forcing himself on Henry: I think this would be possible if the Holy Mother had specifically told him to take Henry sexually. But She hasn't said this. Therefore, Walter is free to interpret having Henry as his as he will. Though Walter's college attendance and acknowledgement of Cynthia as "Temptation" clearly implies that he is not naïve, I really don't think he has much of a libido. I think what he wants from Henry will go deeper than that, and this will also come up later in the story.

I have seen some stories where Walter has forced Henry, and it just seems incredibly out of character for him. Maybe because he's usually talking too much or talking… un-Walter-y. To me anyhow.

But that's my two cents. Take from it what you will. On with the fic!


CHAPTER SIX
Matriculation

The faint memories of being a ghost came to him in his sleep.

Again he dreamt of the warm red room. Slowly his eyes opened and he could see Eileen. Her bandages and clothes were gone, but her skin pulsed with deep bloody colors. She was in deep slumber, cradled to a sullen chest with a boney claw. As was he, he realized, feeling the fleshy heat from the emaciated creature's skin pressed to his own nude form. His skin was ragged; he could feel the sting of the cuts all over his body, though they did not bleed.

The two final souls, those of the Mother Reborn and the Receiver of Wisdom, did not wander as the others did. They had been held close to the Holy Mother, who was housed in the borrowed True Form of the Conjurer.

He wanted to reach out to Eileen, wake her up, but he couldn't move. The warmth kept him sedated. In fact, the sudden urge to wake Eileen faded quietly as quickly as it came.

The Holy Mother inclined Her head to him. He could not see Her face, but he felt Her breath on his head. She did not speak , but words echoed quietly in his mind.

My Receiver of Wisdom.

Hers… No, he wasn't Hers, he told himself. None of them were. They had been taken by Her, through Her Son, but She held sway over them only through incantation and ritual, not through their will.

You will quell him for me.

Something was happening. Deep within, he could feel a part tearing, a part if it, it that made him who he was. It was Her. She was taking the bit away, to hold within Herself, and he realized that he was wrong, that they were all Hers, that free will could in fact mean very little.

But he could do nothing. He could only lie prone in the Holy Mother's embrace and stare at Eileen with eyes that stayed open only because he realized this wasn't his actual body. This was a representation, though it could still feel, though it could not escape Her.

They shall call you soon.

Her claw curled intimately around him.

Sleep.

Hot and wet, Her snake-like tongue descended and stroked once over each of his eyes, closing them. The burning saliva enflamed the cuts on his face, especially the numbers spread beneath his eyes, but he did as She said.

As his mind returned to nothing, he heard her say fondly, once more, My Receiver of Wisdom.


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Um... that was shorter than I expected. Sorry. (sweatdrop) Hopefully the next chap will be out in good time.