"And you truly believe that's what will happen?!" As their carriage steadily clattered along the path, Laurence sat with his arms crossed, glaring at Micolash as a warning to keep his voice down.
"I have already said my piece," he replied after a brief pause. "What's done is done."
"That does not make what you did any less reckless," his colleague said. "Laurence, these nobles; they are not to be trusted."
"I made no mention of trust," said Laurence.
"Yet your actions tell a different story. You think this captain is different somehow – that she will somehow uphold her side of the bargain. What makes you so sure that she will?" Micolash asked, to which he didn't have a good response.
"You presume too much," he eventually replied.
"Do I? Or perhaps, you do not wish to admit you may've misconstrued her actions. You think you know her, Laurence, but I can assure you that you do not."
Once again, he could only offer silence in response. Despite everything, a part of him felt that Micolash was right. After all, their alliance had been far too brief for him, or anyone else to claim they could remotely understand her.
"And do you?"
It was Micolash's turn to fall silent. "I…base my conclusions on what I can observe."
"As do I," Laurence promptly replied. "And I've 'observed' things that you simply have not."
He was clearly none too pleased with this accusation, regardless of its standing in fact. "And do you believe everything you see?" he asked.
"No," Laurence admitted. "But when something happens often enough, it becomes hard to attribute it to mere chance. And the pattern I've observed has been fairly consistent."
He didn't feel the need to specify what this 'pattern' was and judging from the skeptical look on Micolash's face, he didn't need to. After all, he had observed it as well, albeit in a more limited sense.
"Maybe so," he conceded. "But is it enough to form a proper conclusion?"
"You seem to have," Laurence pointed out. "Or perhaps, you merely sought to confirm what you already thought to be true."
"Hmph, I can say the same about you," Micolash quickly retorted. But rather than causing any offence, this merely made Laurence smile.
"Then I suppose we'll have to wait and see which one of us will be validated," he said, prompting Micolash to smirk right back at him as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms.
"Yes, I suppose so," he agreed.
From there, the ride passed in relative silence. Laurence could tell that he wasn't going to make Micolash budge, but then again, his colleague was unlikely to do the same for him either. Still, he considered this discussion of theirs to have been a productive one; both of them had maintained a restrained, professional tone until the very end and hadn't sought to escalate their argument more than was needed. But most importantly, Laurence could now guarantee that Micolash wouldn't speak a word of what happened to Master Willem.
Because at the end of the day, he was a scholar and there was nothing a scholar desired more than the chance to be proven right.
Soon after their carriage finally came to a stop, its door was opened by Dores, who looked between the two of them with some relief. "Ah, you are both in one piece. Master Willem will be most relieved."
Laurence was just about to respond before being prematurely interrupted by another voice. "Come now, Dores. He never doubted that they would return. Did you?" Very soon, Gehrman wandered into view, having insisted on riding on horseback just in front of their carriage; to "keep an eye out", as he'd said.
"Of course not. I always had faith," Dores soon replied.
"Yes. We were quite fortunate, indeed…" Laurence remorsefully said before making his way out of the carriage, after which he turned to Dores. "Where is Master Willem? We must speak to him urgently."
"Certainly, sir," he said before motioning towards the estate. "He's waiting for you out on the lookout. I trust that you can find your way there."
"Of course," Laurence replied. "Thank you, Dores."
In response to this, the headmaster's servant nodded dutifully before standing aside, allowing Laurence to proceed onward with Micolash and Gehrman in tow. From there, he led them inside the manor and up the stairs to the upper level, where they found the vast gates leading to the lookout wide open. Stepping out onto the walkway, Laurence was greeted with a familiar, but no less breathtaking sight; the almost legendary Moonside Lake, on whose coast the estate was built. But apart from its scenic beauty, the lake somehow felt…otherworldly, a feeling that became clear to all those who bore witness to it.
It was no wonder then that Master Willem was so fascinated by it, which led to him retreating to this lookout whenever he was able. And as it happened, he was in the midst of this very ritual when they discovered him, reclining in his rocking chair as he stared out at the water, seemingly unaware of his newly arrived visitors. But of course, Laurence knew better.
"You have returned," said the headmaster without so much as a glance. "I trust that the rest of your fellows are well?"
"Yes, Master Willem. No casualties or injuries to report," Laurence confirmed.
"Good. That is good." Still, he did not turn toward them, though he did move one of his hands to rest on the handle of his rocking chair. Soon afterwards, Laurence heard a soft mewling sound, something that made his heart soar with excitement.
"Nora!" he called out before she had even peeked out from behind her caretaker's rocking chair. As he rushes over, she drops down onto the walkway and excitedly goes over to greet him, wagging her tail as she rubs her head against his leg. With a wide smile on his face, Laurence crouched down to pick her up, giving her a hug soon after.
"It's so good to see you…" he softly said to her, being further rewarded with the somewhat rough feeling of her tongue against his cheek. This was by no means the first time he had been separated from Nora, but he always had the comfort of knowing he'd see her again in good time. But of course, he simply didn't have that sense of certainty this time, but at least he could be certain that she would still have a home.
"She's been quite anxious lately. No doubt wondering when you'd come back to us," he heard Master Willem say, drawing Laurence's attention back to him. But beyond just this, it reminded him of a question he'd had ever since they returned to the surface.
"How long have we been gone?"
"Five days. Today would've been the sixth," his headmaster answered.
"What?!" Laurence exclaimed in shock. "But…that's impossible."
And in response to this, his master finally turned his head and posed him a simple question. "Is it?"
Naturally, Laurence stopped to think this over. From the moment he found himself there, he had felt like he had stepped in another world entirely and not just from a visual sense. Time seemed to move slower, if at all, which he had attributed to them not being able to easily gauge the time of day, as the sky was hidden from them. But beyond just this, one need only look at the reason they had ventured there to begin with to see why such a prospect wasn't out of the realm of possibility.
Seeing that he had reached the conclusion he'd wanted, Master Willem turned his gaze back towards the lake. "Now, won't you tell me what you did in that time?"
Laurence was experienced enough to know that this wasn't a mere inquiry. But before he answered, the professor briefly looked back towards his two companions, but namely Gehrman, who gave him an affirming nod without Micolash being the wiser.
Before he spoke, he took a moment to put Nora back down, leaving her to circle around his legs. "We managed to recover several artifacts, as well as making quite a few fascinating discoveries. Caryll was particularly helpful in that regard," he briefly recounted.
"I'm sure she was," Master Willem commented, yet despite the rather general nature of Laurence's statement, he didn't inquire further.
Caryll's behavior during the expedition baffled him even now, as did the strange voices that emerged when he glanced at her symbol. Yet her secrecy on the matter suggested that this wasn't the first time this had happened and that she had chosen to keep it to herself. Or had she?
"Yes, we have plenty of opportunities for further study," Laurence said, deciding that it was a matter for another time. As it was, they had more pressing matters to attend to.
"But there's something else that you need to know. There's been… a major development."
This seemed to catch the headmaster's attention, as he fully turned his head towards him. "And what would that be?" he asked.
For a moment, Laurence hesitated, knowing the potential repercussions what he was about to say could have. And so, he didn't say anything at all. Instead, he turned back towards where Micolash and Gehrman were looking at him expectantly, motioning for the former to come to them. After a moment of visible surprise, his fellow professor complied, joining him by Master Willem's side and reaching into his satchel. Yet before he could even reveal it, the headmaster leaned forward in his seat, gripping its handles as if in shock.
"Can it be…?" he uttered to himself.
In Micolash's hands was the mysterious pot they had discovered in the depths of Loran. It was a miracle that it hadn't shattered when its altar was destroyed and an even greater miracle that Lady Maria hadn't noticed that it was missing or questioned what had happened to it. But though he hadn't seen it happen, Laurence had known at once that it was Micolash who had taken it…and against his better judgement, had attempted to make sure this act was never discovered.
Despite the covering on his eyes, Master Willem stared at the object in abject shock. "By the heavens, it is…" he said before attempting to rise from his rocking chair.
However, he did so too swiftly, causing him to grab his staff with both hands as he attempted to balance himself. Seeing this, Laurence rushed to his side; there were no railings on the lookout and a fall from this height would mean certain death. But before he could help him, the headmaster raised a hand to indicate he was fine, prompting Laurence to stand aside as he slowly walked over to Micolash. Once he reached him, he reached out to the pot, as if holding back the urge to swipe it from him.
"A Holy Chalice. But…how is it you've come to possess this?"
"It is complicated, Master Willem," said Micolash. "But I can assure you that our 'benefactors' are not aware that we do."
This made their headmaster finally look up at him. "Then I assume you did not use this to access the labyrinths?"
"No, it is not," he confirmed. "We discovered this chalice deep within the tomb. The one that we used to gain entry to Loran remains in Cainhurst's hands. At least, I assume that this is the case."
"You assume?" said Master Willem, clearly puzzled. "Why would they claim one Holy Chalice and not the other?"
"They were, shall we say, preoccupied." Laurence couldn't help but notice a sense of indifference in Micolash's words, which compelled him to finally break his silence.
"What he means to say is that they…well, Lady Maria still required its use. Once her own duty is fulfilled, she means to return to Loran in order to recover the bodies of her company, for she is all that remains."
This brief summary put Master Willem's attention squarely on him. "So, the perils of Loran proved too much for them. Just as I thought…" he muttered as if to himself. But before Laurence could question him on what he meant, he was posed yet another question.
"Yet if that is so, how is it she was able to survive when her men did not?"
Despite this being something that Laurence knew he would need to explain eventually, he once again found himself hesitant to do so. In the brief silence that followed, he noticed Gehrman looking at him, as if sensing his reluctance. Realizing at once what he meant to do, Laurence prepared to stop him, but did so too late.
"She wouldn't have. Not without outside intervention," was Gehrman's simple explanation. But rather than appearing shocked or even sparing him a glance, Master Willem quietly sighed to himself.
"Yours, I would imagine?" he asked or rather, stated. And to his credit, Gehrman did nothing to deny this, replying with a simple "Yes," and nothing more.
For the next few moments, the only sound that could be heard was the soft movement of the water below, during which Master Willem finally decided to turn towards his old acquaintance. "This was not part of our agreement…" he sternly reminded him.
"I am aware, Master Willem. But you wanted me to look for a way to further expand our research and so I did. Lady Maria's survival is of no consequence to us," Gehrman calmly explained.
"But is it of service to us?" the headmaster then asked.
"Not yet," was his somewhat cryptic answer. It was then Laurence remembered something Gehrman had said to him the day before or rather, didn't tell him. He had no doubt that he was planning something or at the very least, that his actions that night weren't decided on a whim. Whatever his gamble was, only time would tell whether it would pay off.
But whatever it was, it hadn't been something Master Willem had accounted for. A rarity, indeed.
"Well, at the very least I understand how it is you are able to present this to me," he said. "But there was a reason you were supposed to keep your 'capabilities' a secret. Regardless of your intentions, she now sees you as a threat. Do you think that Queen Annalise won't as well?"
"She would…if she were to ever find out," Laurence once again interjected. "And I can assure you that she won't."
"How can you be so sure?" asked Master Willem.
"Because Lady Maria is the only one who could divulge that information to her…and I gave her a reason not to," he revealed, but did not do so proudly. Regardless of whether his master caught onto this or not, he appeared rather surprised to learn of this.
"A threat?" he calmly guessed.
"No, nothing of the kind. Like us, she and her men ventured into Loran for a reason, though she had her own goal beyond her mission. I realized what it was and gave her the means to ensure it was fulfilled…at least, to a degree. And in order to do this, she'll need to present a very specific account of what happened, one not entirely rooted in truth."
Laurence's master took a moment to process all of this information. "Hmm…" he murmured as he looked at the other two present, as if seeking verification. Of course, both of them were able to give it with their expressions alone, which seemed to be enough for him.
"And you trust that she will do this?" he then asked Laurence, leaving him with no choice but to answer truthfully.
"I do."
A part of him felt foolish even saying these words, but it was what he believed. He knew what he did was risky and even more so, ethically dubious; using someone's grief in order to achieve a desirable outcome. But deep down, he knew he had no choice. He needed to ensure that their research could not only continue, but reach even greater heights.
However, he himself was omitting a major detail from his account, just as Lady Maria was. What's more, the only other two people who knew the full extent of his plan chose not to reveal this information either, leaving Master Willem ignorant of the full truth. And if he suspected that something was amiss, he did not voice it.
"I see. A complex situation indeed…so it is good that you seem to have handled it with care," he eventually said before placing a hand on his shoulder. "But I expect no less from you."
As he stared at his master's veiled eyes, Laurence nodded silently. He did not enjoy keeping secrets from him, but he realized that it was better this way. Regardless of whether he truly believed him or whether Lady Maria would succeed in convincing Queen Annalise, Master Willem was not prepared to take pre-emptive action against Cainhurst and right now, that was enough.
Besides, he had a reputation of his own to maintain.
After giving him the slightest hint of a smile, Master Willem let go of his shoulder and turned to look at the others, both of whom had remained silent: Gehrman observed them with a rigid, but proud look in his eyes; Micolash with an ever so subtle frown.
"But do not mistake me. This is a momentous day, one that marks a major turning point in our research. And you should all be proud of the part you've played in making it a reality."
Finally, Micolash stepped up, still holding the chalice. "With all due respect, Master Willem, I fear that this may not be as beneficial to us as you might think. The use of a holy chalice requires a specific sacrifice and alas, we weren't able to retrieve any suitable materials. Any we did find were claimed by the Knights of Cainhurst…and were no doubt destroyed upon their deaths."
Though what he said was of course true, Laurence couldn't help but sense an almost accusatory tone to his words. Somehow, he doubted that Micolash hadn't been aware of the chalice's usefulness when he took it for his own or of how Master Willem would react to him doing so. And most importantly, of how Laurence had no choice but to allow the knights to strip them of whatever materials they found.
After casting him a brief sidewards glance, Micolash continued. "In short, we have no way to use it."
"That, Master Micolash, may not be entirely true," Gehrman suddenly said, walking over to stand beside him. Upon reaching him, he held out his hands, as if prompting him to hand it to him. And after a moment of reluctance, Micolash did just that, allowing the older scholar to observe the chalice in greater detail.
"Yes, it's as I thought," he said. "This chalice is not linked to any one part of Pthumeru. Hypothetically, it can be used to access any part of the labyrinths, though we will not have any control on where we end up. And most importantly, we will have no need for any special materials."
Despite lacking any real evidence for his claims, Gehrman spoke with utmost confidence, something that aroused Laurence's curiosity. "How do you know this?" he asked him.
"I don't. It's only a hunch," Gehrman once again surprised him by saying, just before smiling and turning to Master Willem. "But if you give me a few days, I should be able to figure out how it works."
After thinking it over for a moment. Master Willem came to a decision. "Very well. Contact me when you have reached a conclusion. Let us hope it is a positive one."
In response, Gehrman bowed his head. "Indeed, Master Willem," he agreed. "I will do my best."
Yet again, Laurence found himself feeling somewhat perplexed, as if he had missed something obvious. "And what are we to do, Master?" he asked in order to get his attention.
"Nothing yet," he answered. "All I can ask of you is to await further instruction, but beyond that, you should take the time to rest." After taking a brief pause, he unexpectedly chuckled. "Ah, but I forget who I'm talking to. You already have something to occupy yourself with…don't you, Laurence?"
Naturally, he was taken aback by this question. Normally, he wouldn't have thought much of it, but present circumstances urged him to chose his answer carefully
"I have a few ideas, yes," he acknowledged, but said no more than that. Not that he needed to, of course.
"In that case, I will not keep you any longer. You are all free to go," said Master Willem.
Yet despite this invitation, no one moved. As Laurence tried to make sense of this sudden shift in demeanor, he felt Nora slightly rub against his leg, looking down to see her pacing slowly around him, a sense of impatience in her eyes. After letting out a quiet sigh, he finally relented.
"Come along, now, Nora. Let's go home," he softly said, clicking his tongue to signal her to follow him back into the manor. Soon afterwards, Micolash and Gehrman also decided to follow after him, almost as if they were awaiting his response before acting themselves. As for Master Willem, he remained behind on the lookout, watching as they walked away.
"Oh, and Laurence!" he beckoned, prompting him to stop and look back at him. "Try not to get too preoccupied. For your own sake."
Though this 'warning' sounded friendly in nature, Laurence couldn't help but feel apprehensive. As he stood there, staring blankly back at his master, a part of him swore that his attention was not on him, but rather on his satchel, forcing him to fight back the instinctive urge to reach for it and hide it from view. Instead, he merely nodded his understanding and turned to continue on his way, leaving Master Willem alone to resume his meditation.
He tried to convince himself he was being paranoid. Master Willem tended to be enigmatic even when he didn't mean to be, as someone as reserved as him often was. But he was also highly perceptive, almost to an inhuman degree. Was it possible that he…
No. No, that was ridiculous. Perhaps he might've deduced that there was something he wasn't being told, but there was no conceivable way for him to know what that was. After all, Laurence hadn't told him. None of them had told him. But judging from the looks on Micolash and Gehrman's faces, it was obvious they held the same suspicion as him…and that they wished to discourage him from pursuing this 'idea' of his.
But Laurence paid them no heed. This was something he simply couldn't ignore.
…
Upon returning home, Laurence almost immediately started making preparations to leave again. But before then, he would allow Nora some time to settle back in, preparing her a fresh meal and otherwise giving her the attention she desired. Thankfully, she didn't hold his extended absence against him; from the way she acted, it was as if he had never left.
As much as he didn't like leaving her, it was nonetheless something that happened often. His profession required a great deal of commitment, giving him very little time to himself, if any. That isn't to say it wasn't well-suited to him, of course. Laurence had never been one to stay put; he enjoyed having something that he could devote hours, days or even years of focus to.
But no matter how devoted he was to his research, he could never abandon Nora, leading him to take her along for many a late-night stay in his office. It must've been frustrating for her, no doubt, but she'd mostly gotten used to this rather erratic lifestyle and for that, he couldn't be more grateful. For the longest time, she'd been the closest thing to family he had…well, aside from Master Willem, he supposed.
Yet there were some places where he simply couldn't take her. And so, after Nora retired to her sleeping basket for some well-deserved rest, Laurence gave her one more warm glance before quietly closing the door behind him and venturing out into Yharnam's streets once again.
It was a pleasant day outside, with the sun shining brightly overhead, with only a few clouds to occasionally obscure it. Even though the summer heat hadn't subsided during his time away, it did not begin to compare to the sweltering humidity he had experienced in Loran. But even putting that aside, the feeling of the sun's rays shining down on him came as a welcome relief from the near constant darkness of the underground, as well as giving him a sense of security that until then he'd taken for granted.
And as he passed by his fellow citizens in the street – some walking alone, some with their families - he couldn't help but view them in a new light. They were ignorant to the civilization they treaded over day after day and to the unspeakable horror that still dwelled within it. How would they react when the world they thought they knew was suddenly uprooted? Could they ever truly feel safe again?
Unfortunately, these were questions that he knew very few of them had ever considered, but there came a time in every person's life where they had to come to terms with their mortality. But beyond that, he knew that what everyone desired most was that sense of security and more subconsciously, something or someone that can give it to them.
And it was for this reason the professor found himself constantly being stopped by his fellow citizens, who offered him warm greetings and, in some cases, prolonged declarations of gratitude. And though he engaged each one of them with a friendly disposition, Laurence was quick to excuse himself. As gratifying as their kind words were, he had somewhere he needed to be and thankfully, it didn't take him long to get there.
Tucked away in a corner of Central Yharnam, in the shadow of the Great Bridge, there was a gate that led to a small, seemingly nondescript building. During the day, it was left wide open, allowing anyone to enter, something that he was happy to see hadn't changed in his absence. After passing through the gate, he soon reached a set of ornate doors, which he managed to open without need of a key.
Upon stepping inside, he was greeted with the sound of creaking floorboards, shifting bottles and very soon, heavy coughing. The very air felt like it was foul with disease, but this was something that Laurence had come to accept, allowing him to continue inside without hesitation. And soon, he found himself inside a crowded clinic, where a handful of doctors worked tirelessly to treat the great number of patients, young and old, that were crowded within the room.
Among them was a young woman with auburn hair, clad in white medicinal robes, who stood speaking with two other doctors. As their conversation seemed to come to an end, she pointed towards a wheelchair bound patient in the corner of the room and then further into the clinic, which led to the two others rushing off in separate directions. Once this was done, however, she finally seemed to notice him out of the corner of her eye, leading to her turning towards him in complete shock.
"Master Laurence?!" The moment she said this, the clinic suddenly came to a standstill, with doctor and patient alike turning to look towards the doorway where he still stood. After getting over their surprise, the doctors dutifully stood at attention, but Laurence merely lifted his hand to put them at ease before he made his way further inside.
"Hello, Iosefka," he greeted the woman. "I trust that all is well?"
Despite this question, the young doctor continued to stare at him in wide-eyed wonder before suddenly throwing her arms around him. "Oh, thank the Gods, it's true! You've returned!"
With a small chuckle, Laurence embraced her as well. "Yes, I have returned," he confirmed, more to reassure her than anything else. He couldn't blame her for being worried, but from the looks of things, she hadn't let this get in the way of her duties.
Eventually, Iosefka seemed to realize the attention she was drawing to them, causing her to release him just as suddenly as she'd embraced him. "My apologies, sir," she said as she took a step back and lowered her head in embarrassment. "I just…didn't expect to see you back so soon."
"Not to worry," he assured her. "How've things been?"
"About the same as they always are, I'm afraid," Iosefka replied. "We've been trying to keep pace as best as we could, but as you can see, the sick are simply too many."
"Yes, I expected as much…" Laurence solemnly said as he looked around the crowded clinic, where in the absence of traditional beds, several patients were laid on metal surgical tables, seemingly struggling to even stay conscious. And this space was meant to be reserved for less severe cases.
"How many dead?" he quietly asked.
"More than a dozen," she replied. "We…didn't have any room to store their bodies."
To this, Laurence could only sigh. At the very least, this was less than he had expected, but failing to save even one patient left a permanent mark on a doctor, much less a dozen. But it was an inevitable reality of the profession, one that he taught each and every one of his students to accept, despite knowing full well that it didn't make things any easier, as Iosefka so clearly demonstrated.
"Do not dwell on it. You did all you could," he said to her.
"I know," she acknowledged. "But that number will only grow higher before the day is done."
"Be that as it may, your work in this clinic ensures that they have a higher chance of survival," Laurence reminded her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "So, it is good that you kept it open in my stead."
"Someone has to." Was Iosefka's reply, with which he could not argue.
When Laurence first opened this clinic, it was the only major medical institution in Yharnam; almost a decade later and it still was. Despite this, their resources were limited only to what Byrgenwerth, as well as the general public, could provide them, which in most cases was sufficient, but made it all but certain they would be overwhelmed in the event of a major outbreak. He had done everything in his power to improve the conditions of the facility, but continued to fall short. Yet these constant setbacks did little to deter him, which is exactly why he found himself here today.
"Anyway, do forgive me for barging in so suddenly," he said as he released Iosefka's shoulder. "Is our laboratory available?"
"Yes, yes, of course. We have only been using it to store supplies," she replied. "I assume that is why you are here?
"It is. I have something that requires my attention," Laurence confirmed.
With an understanding nod, Iosefka motioned towards the staircase behind her. "Right this way," she said, prompting him to follow her up the stairs and then, into a long hallway, where several more patients were being tended to. Of course, Laurence already knew the way to the laboratory, but he figured she would benefit from the momentary distraction.
"This matter that brings you here. Is it related to the labyrinths?" Iosefka asked him as they walked.
"Indeed," Laurence replied without hesitation. "Whilst there, we discovered…well, I'm not too sure what. And now that Master Willem has placed something of a pause on our activities, now's as good a time as any to deduce what it is."
"I see," said Iosefka, leading to a brief pause. "And Amelia, is she…?"
"Amelia is safe. I insisted that she and the others take some time to rest," he briefly explained before looking over to her. "And after today, it is only right that you do the same."
"And what about you, master? When do you intend to rest?" Despite the smile she wore as she asked this question, there was a clear sense of concern behind her words. The brief sleep Laurence had fallen into the night before had done little to relieve him of his fatigue, with the constant traveling he'd been subjected to today only worsening matters. Still, he had no intention of resting.
"When my work is complete," he finally replied.
"I thought as much," said Iosefka. "Then we'd best ensure that you are not delayed…or interrupted."
Laurence couldn't help but smile in response. "Most definitely," he agreed.
Not long after, the two of them turned a corner close to the middle of the hallway, which led them into a room with a small winding staircase, beyond which the laboratory could be found. Stopping at the foot of the staircase, Laurence turned back towards Iosefka, who had stopped just a few steps behind him.
"Are you not coming?" he asked.
"I'm afraid I cannot. There is still much for me to do."
This was by no means surprising. Laurence knew from experience that there was never a calm moment in the clinic, especially at this hour in the day. It was a responsibility very few could handle.
"Well, if all goes well, I will try to relieve some of your burden," he offered her.
"Thank you, sir, but I cannot ask that of you," she politely replied. "Do what you must and for as long as is needed. I will keep the place in order in the meantime."
Realizing that he wasn't going to change her mind, Laurence nodded his head. "I know you will," he quietly said. "Go."
After sharing a quick smile, Iosefka turned to return to the sickrooms, but not before taking the time to close the doors behind her to ensure no one would disturb him. Even after he could no longer see her through the glass portions of the door, Laurence continued to look after her. She'd always been a gifted student, and even more so, a dedicated one. So, when the time came to decide who would head the clinic during his time in Loran, he couldn't have asked for a finer surrogate.
With yet another sigh, the professor finally turned to ascend the staircase, bringing himself up to the level of the chandelier that hung from the ceiling. From there, he passed through one more doorway, after which he found himself standing in a small medical room. Countless shelves filled to the brim with various containers and medical supplies lined the walls, through which Laurence rummaged to acquire the instruments he needed, which he brought over to a small workstation on the right-hand side of the room.
When all was said and done, Laurence had before him a small glass pipette, a microscope and an accompanying collection of sliders, as well as his notebook. After lighting a candle and pulling up a chair, Laurence finally took out the object of his curiosity; the vial of blood he'd received from Matthias. Despite its apparent mundanity, he recognized that there was something…special about it, something that became clear even before it was revealed that it was coveted by Cainhurst itself. And above all else, he hoped that he would soon discover why that was.
After placing a slider on the stage of the microscope, Laurence carefully removed the cork from the vial and tipped it over just enough to allow the edge of his pipette to reach its contents, extracting a small sample before setting it off to the side. After pushing out a small drop of the thick substance onto the slider, he stood up in order to look into the eyepiece, adjusting its focus so as to get a clear vision of the sample.
And once he did, he found himself at a loss as to what he was looking at. It was blood, that much was certain; he had observed enough of it over the years to realize that. But this was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. It looked…pure.
"Interesting…" he murmured to himself.
As he stood back up to his full height, Laurence found himself hearkening back to the moment he first laid eyes on this strange blood. How his mind had been overtaken by that incoherent voice, which only seemed to grow louder the closer he got to it. Beyond that, he also remembered something Caryll had said; how the chamber had been "blessed", somehow.
With these facts in mind, Laurence carefully removed the present slider and put another one in its place. Afterwards, he noticed a scalpel lying on a shelf just next to him, which he soon took in his hand, bringing it, as well as his right index finger, over the slider. After a brief moment of hesitation, the professor used the instrument to create a small cut on the tip of his appendage, slightly wincing as he waited for a drop of his blood to fall onto the thin piece of glass below.
Once a sufficient amount had been accumulated, Laurence set the scalpel aside and looked into the eyepiece once again, not even bothering to clean his wound as he attempted to focus on his blood's properties. After this was done and he felt like he had a good perspective of its make-up, he substituted it for the initial sample. Just as he thought, they were alike…and yet, not.
"Very interesting…"
…