The Journal of Renault, Bishop of Valor

Chapter 7

After yet another short hiatus thanks to work (#BlameWalmart), I'm ready to get back into writing form! I've been thinking of doing another mini-series recently, but I'm not sure what to make it about. Some ideas I had were:

-Another FE mini-series featuring Dheginsea's backstory

-A completely original story that I can post on Archive of Our Own or

-An FE mini-series featuring Sephiran in between the events of Path of Radiance and Radiant Dawn

If you want to see any of these let me know!

Also before I start this chapter I want to add something on. I really hate to use this platform for political rants, but with the recent events surrounding the Black Lives Matter protests and President Trump's ongoing crap, I want to make something very clear:

BLACK LIVES MATTER.

TRANSGENDER WOMEN ARE WOMEN TOO.

TRANSGENDER MEN ARE MEN TOO.

SEXUAL HARASSMENT/ABUSE IS NOT A FUCKING JOKE.

You are free to disagree with me on any of these statements if you so wish. I won't block you or delete your message if you do, but while I will be open to listen, don't expect me to agree with your opinions.

And with that, I hope you enjoy the chapter and make sure you check me out on Twitter (codygulifanfics)!

Almost two weeks had gone by since I departed from Saint Elimine's Church, but I only managed to make it to Ostia in that time. My journey was proving to be slow and purposeless at this point, and every ounce of me wanted to turn back.

Then I remembered his face.

Nergal's face stuck with me everywhere I went. His laugh echoed in my every dream, my every nightmare conducted by his dark whim. His crooked smile was plastered into my consciousness. I couldn't escape him, despite being miles and miles away from him. Therefore, I had decided to press on.

As I entered the vast city of Ostia, the sound of the common rabble grew louder. The sounds of idle chatter, playful children shrieking and laughing, merchants calling "Fresh stock of herbs! Come see my fresh stock of herbs!" and "Fresh meats for sale! Ground beef from the richest of cattle in all Elibe!", and the roaring laughter from inside the pub created an ambient symphony that seemed to have lifted my spirits. As I walked further into the city towards the inn, I found these civilians, both young and old, bowing their heads to me in respect and offering me donations, to which I kindly turned down. This was Heaven in disguise. That is, until I walked into the inn and found it swimming in drunks, one of which threw a mug towards me and another drooling a large puddle on the floor. Before I could reach the counter where the innkeeper stood, I was approached by a third drunk, who had clearly taken a disliking to me.

"Oi!" the man cried, hiccuping loudly as he stumbled over to me. "Fancy man! Yeah, I'm talking to you!"

"Can I help you, good sir?" I asked innocently.

"Funny guy, aren't we? Are you-" A hiccup. "Are you looking for a fight, toughie?"

"I beg your pardon, but have you had too much to drink sir?"

Apparently this had tipped the man off, as he lunged forward and grabbed me by the collar of my robes, pulling my face to his. His breath smelt rancid, almost like a corpse bathed entirely in swamp water and mud.

"You better shut your mouth, damn it! Else I'll wallop you real good and-" another hiccup. "Turn that mug of yours bad."

"Be off!" I cried out, pushing him back with my staff. He fell to the ground hard but quickly got up and pulled a knife from under his belt. As he charged ready to stab me, a cloaked figure, who had seen the turmoil unfold, lunged out of his chair and grabbed the man's arm right as he began to thrust the knife downward. The man in the cloak squeezed the drunk's wrist, to which the latter howled in pain and dropped the knife before he was tossed to the ground once more. Instead of trying to fight again, the man stumbled and ran right out of the inn without looking out. I turned and faced the cloaked figure, who was now standing over me menacingly. After a long pause, he lifted his hood to reveal his face. His long, jade blue hair was messy from the hood and the scars on his face stood out more than anything else about him.

"Next time," he said as he headed for the door, "you might be better off walking away."

What cheek, I thought. And yet I was curious to know who this man was. So I did what I thought was the only logical thing to do, and followed him out.

"You don't seem to be from here, traveller," the man spoke. "You'd be surprised to know that most Ostians aren't that rash...or drunk for that matter."

"A wonderful group of people, I'm sure," I muttered in return. "I must thank you for saving me from that man-"

The man stopped suddenly and turned around. "I'm sorry, but do you have any business with me?"

"Well, yes. Of course. I would like to know your name, for a start."

"Is that all?"

"Well no…"

Impatiently, the man turned back around and kept walking. I was left baffled at his behavior; I've never met such a cheeky and rude man in my life. I continued to walk after him though, unsatisfied with being ignored. He probably knew that I was following him, because as we approached Castle Ostia, he motioned the guards at the front out of the way to let both of us pass. Yes, both. Me and him. As I entered Castle Ostia, I was taken aback by the bright glow of the chandeliers on the ceiling, the regalia adorning the walls in a neat fashion, and the reflection of light bouncing off the marble tile.

"Impressed?" the man in the cloak said, gesturing at the room we stood in.

"I've seen better at House Caelin," I muttered back. That was a complete lie. Sure Caelin was beautiful but it looked nothing like this, nowhere even close. This wasn't just a castle. This was an architectural masterpiece, an absolute pinnacle of majesty. And yet, I felt like I didn't belong. Me, a priest of the Saint Elimine Church, standing- no, basking- in the regal aura of House Ostia, it felt too good to be true. But here I was.

Soon I was whisked into the dining hall, which was almost as big as the main hall and then some. A large, singular chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling, bathing the room in a radiant glow of light. I sat towards the nearest end of the table while my host sat in the large chair at my end. Suddenly a group of noblemen, guards, and chefs flooded the room like an ambush taking place in a fort. The rest sat down aside from the chefs, who laid out various dishes across the middle of the long table. There were dishes that I have never even seen before in my time with both the mercenary guild and the church. Roasted pig, fresh lamb meat over lettuce, something that looked like a gigantic salad with eggs, these were just a few of the dishes laid out before me. As we all filled our plates with delectable food, my host, the man who led me here, spoke.

"I had a feeling you would arrive sooner or later, Renault," he chuckled.

"How do you know my name?" I asked in shock. "There's no way that you-"

"I got a message from your friend, the Bishop Yoder, that you were coming."

Yoder, I thought. Of course. Who else but him?

"I understand that you're looking for a sorcerer by the name of Nergal, yes?"

"Did Yoder tell you that too?"

The man laughed, but did not answer me. "I do agree with your friend; perhaps this is not the best path for you to take. The way he described this...Nergal character, he-"

Fuming, I stood up from my chair, face beet red and ready to snap back at him. I held back though when everyone stopped eating and turned their judging eyes to face me. The man just sat there, continuing to eat. "Beg pardon," he said, swallowing a bite of ham, "I must have touched upon a very sensitive topic." I didn't say anything and sat back down. The others and I resumed eating like nothing ever happened.

"I don't know where he is now, but I swore that I would find him and make him pay for what he did," I said.

"So it seems, but while you say you seek revenge against this sorcerer, you have yet to tell the other half of the story."

I sighed and told the man everything, from the moment I lost Briar to the moment I met Nergal to the point where I left him and sought sanctuary in the church. Every bitter detail grew even more bitter as I told the story, and after I had finished, the man nodded and stroked his beard for a moment before replying.

"I'm afraid," he said, "that I cannot help you there. And neither can Ostia, for that matter."

"I'm not looking for help from you or Ostia," I said. "Just give me a name of someone who can."

There was a long pause as he continued to chew the food in his mouth. As he swallowed, he leaned forward and said "Eburacum. The Western Isles. Go there, find a young man named Garrett. He may lead you to somebody with the knowledge you seek. Be warned though; don't put too much trust in him. He may be a bandit with a pure heart, but he's nothing more than a bandit."

"You want me to take directions from a bandit?" I hissed back quietly.

"Yes, yes, I understand you dislike their kind because of your friend's death. But trust me on this one."

"I...very well. I'll set out tomorrow then. Excuse me." I rose from my seat slowly and pushed the chair back under the table.

"Wait." The man took out a small piece of parchment and handed it to me. "Show this to the innkeeper. He'll let you stay the night for free." I could only nod and bow respectively as I began to walk out. "And to answer your earlier question," he added as we both stopped to turn and face each other. "My name is Uther. Marquess Uther of Ostia."

I nodded and bowed once more. "Saint Elimine bless you, Marquess Uther, and thank you for the meal." Nothing more was said. Nothing more needed to be said.

My mind was focused strictly on the Western Isles now, and nothing else.

Whew, am I on a roll now or what?! Thanks for reading Chapter 7 and as always, don't forget to leave a review if you enjoyed and follow me on Twitter (codygulifanfics)!