Chapter 29: Archive
The gray clouds were bright with suppressed sun, and wind rattled the glass roof over the cloister as it passed over, whistling. That did not bother the group of Sisters sitting around a rickety table that bore books and a fine antique tea set. The pot's porcelain beauty was, however, covered up by an admittedly hideous cozy.
"Thank you very much for inviting me to tea, Sister Alice," thanked Greta as the old woman served her tea.
"Oh it is something long overdue, my dear," Sister Alice declared with a large smile. "You, after all, are following in my footsteps through dear Mary."
"And there is nothing more than we old ladies love more than some company from our younger sisters," added Sister Elpis with a smile.
Sister Hedwig hummed in agreement behind her tea. Sister Alice put down the tea pot and folded her hands, looking keenly at Greta.
"So, how are you finding the position?" she asked.
"It is a surprising amount of work," Greta replied, adding sugar to her tea. "I originally thought that I would simply have to read up on the occult, occasionally offer my advice and simply make sure every item in the archive is in the right place. I did not realize that I would also be processing new items and updating catalogues."
"Oh yes," Sister Alice nodded wisely. "One would think that managing such a restricted collection would simply mean growing personal expertise and occasionally dusting the items; even more rarely being asked to offer you expert opinion on countering the evils of the Outsider. But the world is vast and strange, and sometimes it is best to have examples of the occult rather than purge all remnants of it from the earth."
"Delilah's activities certainly added to the collection," Sister Hedwig said. "Though I do believe that Sister Mary was the one to archive them."
"Yes she was," Greta took a sip from her cup. "She expressly asked me to bring "unique items" back to the Chapel, and I obtained items I had judged worthy of our archive. I take it that you have seen them?"
The three old women exchanged looks.
"But of course we have!" Sister Elpis declared. "Why, after you all returned with the lot we old biddies were chomping at the bit to see things that belonged to such a fearsome witch!"
"And, a good painter," added Sister Hedwig.
"It was quite the collection, and her plan was so devious!" Sister Alice all but gushed. "Fortunately it was easy enough to sabotage. Thank goodness for such a reliance on balanced runes!"
Greta laughed nervously, thinking back on how the sabotage worked out in the end. She tried not to think about the hole in her memory around the construction of the corrupted rune. It was unsettling to be reminded of how unreliable the mind could be.
Not to mention that the Outsider walked among them quite literally. Granted he was a rather decent creature that inspired terrible magic that he did not want to inspire. But it was not like many people were taking the time to get to know the god of the Void.
"Say, Greta dear," She hummed and turned to Sister Elpis. "Is Bernice one of your companions?"
She nodded. "Yes she is. Is she directly in your line of mentorship?"
Sister Elpis sighed wistfully. "Yes, but she has been so busy now a days that she rarely comes to tea anymore."
Sister Hedwig raised her bushy eyebrows, still a shocking dark grey as compared to her snow-white hair. "Why not ask any of your other children and grandchildren to tea?"
Sister Elpis waved her hand. "None have the same rough charm as Bernice, all of them are too well-bred. Dear Lena is the only one who comes close, but sadly she is leaving us by the end of this month."
That caught everyone's attention. Sister Alice set down her cup, jaw slack.
"Lena is leaving? Why?"
"The High Oracle is sending her to Serkonos," Sister Elpis replied while stirring her tea, a morose expression on her wrinkled face. "Apparently the Order there has been somewhat odd ever since the defeat of Delilah."
"Yes, I've heard," Greta said, leaning forward. "Her lieutenant Brianna Ashworth was manipulating their visions. I know the Order there has been cleaning the Conservatory. But I thought the oddness was over?"
"So did we," Sister Hedwig spoke up, a grave look on her face. "We received a letter from Sister Alguirre last week requesting for Sisters from Morley, Tyvia, and Grisol to watch each Chapel, as they have been having strange visions as of late, and many Sisters have complained of memory loss. I am surprised you weren't aware of this Alice."
Sister Alice looked bewildered and shook her head. "I was certainly not informed of this letter. Strange visions are part of who we are, but memory loss? That is new. What do you think Greta?"
Greta took a sip of tea, attempting to soothe suddenly rising nerves. "Perhaps the Sisters have been overexposed to runes or especially malignant bonecharms?"
Sister Elpis hummed, and the other two looked very thoughtful.
"That sounds like a very possible cause," Sister Alice remarked, while Sister Hedwig nodded wisely. "I would blame the use of the Oraculum on the memory loss and strange visions, but the exposure to particularly malevolent runes and bonecharms is a good thought."
The old women suddenly perked up and turned to Greta with sudden intensity. "Were you aware that the corpses of our Sisters, bound to that horrible Oraculum, have been uttering prophecy?"
Greta's jaw dropped. "But, how? Are they not naught but bones and rags? How can they speak?"
"Oh dear, you should know as well as the rest of us that the Oracular Order has always danced much closer to magic than the rest of the Abbey is ever aware of," Sister Hedwig said gently. "When I dream I can hear the voices of my dead Sisters, my mentors and peers, all offering me advice and visions of things as they are. When I meditate they often guide me, and they wait patiently for me to join them. Perhaps because you are young and not known to the dead that you do not hear their voices. But you will one day."
Greta offered a weak smile and a nod. But she was not certain about it. Prophecy and dreams were not her strong suit, in fact her lack of them nearly prevented her from being able to join the Order. But the High Oracle intervened on her behalf, something that she would never forget. Her inability was rather well-known among the elderly Sisters.
"I did not get my first whispers from my Sisters until I retired to maintaining the banned book collection," Sister Alice offered kindly, noticing Greta's doubt. "Being around such dark materials taints even the best of prophecies; it is best that you do not have them until you are freed from that task. Ever does the Outsider seek to infiltrate our lives in the guise of being our friend."
Greta took a long sip of tea as she tried not to show her amusement at the last sentence. It was so far from the truth as she knew it. The Outsider was not duplicitous, and certainly was not the evil-seeking chaos-causer she was taught he was. Though Greta wondered if they were friends; perhaps they were. Does giving terrible courting advice count as friendship?
"There she is High Overseer."
Everyone turned their heads to see Bernice guiding the High Overseer to their tea table. Greta put down her cup, both curious and wary.
"Good afternoon High Overseer," Sister Elpis greeted as he came to a stop before them, his hands folded behind his back. "What brings you to our company?"
"I was looking for Sister Manderly," Chopin replied with a smile. "I wished to explore the occult archives a bit, as I believe it has some remarkable sources on the construction of runes and bonecharms."
Greta turned to the old Sisters. "Will it be alright if I go help the High Overseer now?"
The three waved her off. "Of course you may," declared Sister Hedwig graciously. "We do have a lovely replacement here in the form of dear Bernice."
Bernice suddenly stood very still, something that caught Sister Elpis' keen eyes.
"Do humor us, child," she called out. "It has been far too long since we chatted."
"And since you deprived us of Greta's fine company, it is only fair that you give us yours," added Sister Alice
"Oh alright," Bernice sighed, her voice one of amused defeat. Greta laughed and finished her tea before standing, freeing the chair for Bernice. She walked over to Chopin, who was patiently waiting.
"If you would just follow me," Greta invited with a gesture.
The archive was on the other side of the Chapel, imbedded within the massive library. Chopin was almost unnervingly quiet, his footsteps strangely muffled, even on the stone floors. Edna looked up at them from behind her circulation desk, peering at them from behind her glasses as they headed toward the dim shelves, illuminated by Walls of Light.
"Are you just looking for texts, or are you interested in specimens as well?" Greta offered, directed him to a table, tucked off in the corner.
The High Overseer blinked, his eyes appearing to glow blue in the low light. "Specimens?"
"This chapel has the largest collection of bonecharms in all of the Empire," Greta explained. "Of course, we can destroy them if that is your wish."
Chopin held up his hand and shook his head, offering a smile. "That would not be necessary, but I would very much like to see the collection."
"No problem, you will just need to follow me," Greta walked towards a sturdy metal door and pulled out a key, unlocking it. Immediately she flicked a switch, turning the lights on with a hum. The yellow light revealed numerous cabinets, multiple tables, and many shelves, all filled to the brim with objects, several ancient, others brand new, all occult.
"Welcome to Storage," Greta proclaimed with a flourish. Chopin looked around and let out a low whistle, impressed.
"Your Chapel has an impressive collection," he declared. "I never thought anyone would be able to best the collection of the Order of Dabokva, yet once again Dunwall proclaims its dominance."
"Thank our foundress," Greta pointed to an oil portrait of a snub-nosed, grey-haired Sister, a hand pointing to the strictures while runes and bonecharms lay under her feet, crushed. "Sister Matilda saw the value in saving the old texts to study them, allowing us more ways to save the misguided. Now, have a seat at that table while I pull out the inventory binder."
She walked over the bonecharm bureau, which had its inventory binder resting atop it. As she walked close to it she could hear the collective song of the bonecharms, a thin, unnerving reverberation. Usually she could feel warmth flowing from the bureau as well, but instead it felt like all the heat in her body was getting sucked out of her.
Get it out
Greta froze. She gave her head a small shake; what on earth was that? No matter, she reached for the binder
Get it out
It drains us, it will drain you next
Get it out
It infects all that it touches, you are next
Get it out
It hears us, it hears us!
It is too late, it is too late. You are infected. We cannot be saved, you cannot be saved.
"Greta? Greta!"
Sister Mary was shaking her shoulders, concern shining in her green eyes. "Are you alright?"
Greta looked around. She was still in Storage, but now lying on the floor by the table; Chopin lingering in the background, bonecharms scattered all around her.
"What happened?" she murmured, lost.
"Chopin fetched me, he said that you fainted when you touched a corrupted bonecharm," Sister Mary sighed, relief still out of reach in her expression. "Do you remember that happening?"
Greta shook her head, fear pooling in her gut. Sister Mary looked up at Chopin, who was also worried.
"Perhaps the corruption tampered with your memory, and that is why you fainted," he proposed, looking uncertain.
"Could be," Greta agreed with a murmur. She found that she could no longer meet the High Overseer's worried gaze. Something about his eyes was too cold, too… inhuman. She shook her head. What was going on? Perhaps the bonecharms have gotten to her.
"In any case, I am going to send you to your room," Sister Mary ordered, her voice that of a concerned mother. "I will take over you. So, High Overseer, you are stuck with me."
"So long as our Sister is alright," he assured. "I will pray for your speedy recovery, and that it was not anything serious."
Greta nodded in thanks absently, shifting her hand as she moved to stand. Her fingers brushed against a fallen charm, and she noticed immediately that it was cold and silent.