Chapter 1: A New Orthodoxy
It was the 3rd day of the Month of Nets, 1852. It was grim and cloudy in Dunwall, threatening the rain that named the month that followed. Within the chapel of the Oracular Sisters, the air was tense and fearful. Sister Roswyen called for a Gathering, and for the first time in her life as a sister, Greta Manderly wanted to refuse to go. Greta had no desire to be among her sisters, discussing their fates as the witch Delilah held the Isles in her thrall. Dread weighed heavily upon her, and despair gnawed upon her guts. No amount of research could posit a solution- no amount of sanctioned research that is. In spite of her desire to bury herself under a mound of blankets and scream into a pillow, Greta found herself walking alongside her sisters to the cloister.
"I hope a sister wiser than I can propose a solution or prophesize comfort," she thought, fiddling with her belt as she entered the green cloister. Sister whispered to Sister, some consulting books together, others reciting the Strictures feverishly. Never had Greta seen such a worried Gathering, and the overall anxiety both comforted her and stressed her further. A gentle hand tapped her shoulder, startling her out of her thoughts
"Greta," whispered Sister Mary, her thin wrinkled face kind and calm. "Help me light the incense."
Greta smiled, relieved, at her mentor. "It would be my pleasure Sister Mary."
They waded through white robes, careful not to tred upon anyone, spill incense upon the ground or light a colorful blindfold on fire. The sweet smoke curled up to the glass roof, bringing the clouds inside the cloister. Sister Rosewyn, following them with keen eyes, called the room to order as Sister Mary lit the last brazier. Greta found a place to sit on the stone walkway off to the left, a place favored by the younger sisters such as herself. The Strictures were recited, and the Gathering began
"All thirty-two of the Dunwall Oracular Order stand here in this room," Sister Rosewyn said, her face stoney. "And we shall hear the thoughts of each sister. It is with grave news that I inform you of our brother Overseer's failure to root out the witch and her coven from the Tower. There is one survivor, who I tasked with a mission that he unfortunately failed, and is grievously injured. I pray he may recover swiftly."
Greta found herself gasping alongside many of her Sisters. One next to her, eighteen year-old Marzia, began openly weeping. Greta immediately offered her embrace, which Marzia took.
"What does that mean for us?" cried Sister Hope, standing up towards the back with her fists clenched. "Shall we start planning for battle?"
"If we must," Sister Rosewyn replied, grave. "As is our tradition, we shall put together our minds to try and discern a path. Since the circumstances are so extraordinary, I regret not giving ample time to research the question."
"Can such a question be researched?" posited gruff Bernice, her wrists lazily resting atop round knees, her blind eyes staring upwards. "We are facing strong magic, not some lunatics with bonecharms."
"We have defeated Heretics in the past!" shouted Hope, her eyes alight and teeth gnashing. "We can do it again!"
A murmur ran through the circles, some sisters nodding resolutely, others looking skeptical. Marzia finally stopped weeping and withdrew from Greta's embrace
"How effective was the Ancient Music?" Greta asked, after a beat of silence. It was an obvious question to ask, at least in Greta's opinion. All eyes turned to the elderly Sisters, the most talented of Oracles in the chapel. Sister Elpis slowly stood, leaning heavily on her cane.
"I am afraid the Ancient Music is useless against them," she pronounced in her frail voice.
Marzia proceeded to wail again. The secretary next to Sister Rosewyen conspicuously put down a checkmark on the roll, causing a wave of laughter throughout the cloister, including Marzia though her tears.
"So shall we be dying a martyr's death?" said Sister Delly, the chapel's master of arms. A determined mutter of assent came from her protégés, particularly Sister Hope.
"I would rather we not die so needlessly," replied Sister Mary softly. "But unless we can come up with an alternative, I fear that must be our path."
Silence fell. Greta could hear rain pattering atop the glass roof, and muffled weeping across the cloister. Marzia was leaning heavily upon her shoulder, silent tears falling down her dark face. Looking at her Sisters, who she loved more than family, brought so low, an anger boiled up inside Greta.
"I curse magic!" she thought viciously. "I curse the Outsider and the pain he brings! I curse Delilah! I curse not being able to curse! How dare you hurt my family! How dare I not be able to protect them!"
The rain intensified with each thought, thunder rolling distantly. Sister Rosewyn looked ready to say something when lightning struck the roof, blinding everyone present. Thunder boomed louder than anything Greta had heard in her 27 years alive. Someone, probably nervous Sister Reilly, screamed.
Greta's eyes could hardly adjust, as fragments of light traveled across her vision, almost like leaves falling from trees. She squinted, as a new light source seemed to have been added at the center of the cloister, in the middle of the small fish pond. The room felt a touch warmer, a touch safer. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bernice's jaw agape, her milky eyes wide as if she had seen a miracle, staring at the GLOWING PERSON standing in the fish pond.
Greta suppressed a scream. It was not becoming of an Oracular Sister to give in to animal instincts.
"BY THE OUTSIDER'S CROOKED COCK!" cried Sister Hedwig, oldest of the Oracular Order at 99 years of age. Sister Alice, standing next to her, promptly fainted. The innermost circle in the cloister scrambled backwards with a yell. Sister Rosewyn stood rooted to the ground, staring at the luminous intruder.
"Foul magic!" she cried, her face bloodless. "Heretic's tricks! You are not welcome here!"
"That's not a nice thing to say to someone who wants to help you," said the Glowing Person with a pout upon their face. The voice was musical- in fact, it so reminded Greta of the Ancient Music that the fear in her heart died down.
"Help us?" Delly squeaked out, her square face puce with rage. "Spirits of the void shall not help US!"
The Glowing Person looked taken aback. "Me? From the Void? By the Music, no!"
"That sounds like something an evil spirit would say!" cried mousy Sister Eileen, a fierce look on her face.
"Let them present their case," argued Sister Mary, her voice even and calm. Every eye was turned to her in disbelief. Greta found her breath stolen by her mentor's audacity.
"Are we not the minds of the Abbey?" Sister Mary continued. "Those who interpret dreams, divine events? Can we not always explain the things we see, or the things we learn?"
"Are you arguing that there is another source of power other than the Outsider?" asked Sister Elpis, clearly curious.
There was a beat of silence, and the Glowing Person appeared eager to speak, but kept their mouth shut.
"I am not sure," replied Sister Mary. "What proof do we have that the cosmos and stars do not have their own magic? Is the Ancient Music any less magical than a whaler's bonecharms?"
"I HAVE ANSWERS FOR THAT!" burst out the Glowing Person, clearly excited. All eyes turned to them, silently waiting for the answer. Sister Delly hefted her mace, while Hope conspicuously began flipping her pistol. Seeing that they had an audience, the Glowing Person began to speak.
"In the beginning there was two things- the Void, and Energy. The Void was empty, and held naught but Energy. Energy created the cosmos, the stars, the earth, the air, and the sea, and all that dwell upon it. It created the laws the govern all world mortal and world immortal. The Void held those creations within, like half a shell protecting all Energy had created. Energy gave the void some of itself to defend its creations; this birthed dark magic. The final thing Energy was light magic to attach to the stars. I am the representative of that magic. I have been observing the Abbey of the Everyman since its founding because of your interest in the stars! I aid in all kinds of prophecy, I am a keeper of time, a singer of the Ancient Music." They finished looking quite proud of themselves.
"If you have been watching us for so long, you should know that we have no interest dealing with spirits of any kind," said Bernice pointedly.
"But do you prefer being wiped out?" the Glowing Person asked, just as pointed.
Sisters turned and looked at each other. Greta looked around the cloister, and considered the options.
"Sisters," she said, standing up. "It appears that our options so far include staying here and doing nothing, committing our own assault against the witches in the Tower and dying a martyr's death, or accepting help from a being which is claiming to be the source of some of our miraculous powers. I understand being hesitant to trust a creature which claims such things, for we all know the treachery of the Outsider's magic. But I am also tired of being weak to his magic. Our people deserve better, my Sisters deserve better!"
About fifteen Sisters seemed to be swayed by her argument, including Hope, Marzia, and Bernice. The eldest Sisters looked uncertain, while the remaining 10 Sisters remained unconvinced.
"I am touched by your desire to see things right, and I know you come from a good place," said secretary Edna. "But taking advice and aid from a supernatural being goes against everything that we stand for."
"The job of the Abbey is to guide the people, and the job of our order is the guide the Abbey," Sister Elpis uttered gravely. "We cannot guide the people if we cannot help them."
"People would not turn to the Outsider if we were able to offer an effective alternative," Sister Eileen argued. "And we cannot defeat the magic of the Outsider with technology and faith alone. We need to be able to offer safety and justice."
Sister Rosewyn stood quiet throughout the argument, but nodded stiffly to Eileen's words. Her cold eyes turned to Sister Hedwig, who looked ready to say something. The old women smiled a toothless grin and spoke.
"I say we trust this creature. It speaks like an eager child, and no thing of evil and malice can do that. I have perceived that Empress Emily is alive in the Serkonos, and what a welcome present it would be if we could end that witch and her coven once and for all! FUCK THE OUTSIDER!"
"FUCK THE OUTSIDER" Greta cried, alongside the rest of her chapel, a grin splitting her face.
"Very well then," said Sister Rosewyn steadily. "The chapel has made our decision. Now, what shall we call you?"
The Glowing Person faded their glow, finally bringing their features into view. Their skin was warm like baked clay, their hair a glowing yellow. Wide round eyes of pure white were set on a youthful face, with a broad nose and a wide grin. "My name is Elanor! I look forward to working with you to make the world a better place!"