The life of a Byrgenwerth scholar was a restless one. There was always some sort of inquiry happening behind the scenes, enough that every member of every faculty rarely found themselves bereft of work. But this was especially true in Laurence's case; aside from his research, he was also expected to provide regular lectures to students, as well as tasking himself in overseeing his clinic. As a result, he was very rarely given time to himself, more so out of personal choice than anything else.

However, he also wasn't very fond of distractions, though this didn't seem to stop Caryll from summoning him one particularly busy day. Yet upon learning of this request, Laurence dropped what he was doing almost immediately, setting out to meet with his colleague soon after. After all, her doing so was by no means a common occurrence.

Caryll had always been somewhat of an oddity among Byrgenwerth's faculty. She wasn't a professor as he and Micolash were, and her research was something of a private affair, the details of which she did not tend to share. Despite this, she reported directly to Master Willem, who often oversaw her work and was just as secretive about its focus. So, for her to summon him now could only mean that they were dealing with a matter of utmost importance. And Laurence believed that he knew exactly what it was.

The professor soon found himself at the door to her office, located in one of Byrgenwerth's many research centers. Despite being gripped with a sense of unease, Laurence eventually knocked on her door.

"Oh, Laurence, is that you? Please, do come in," came her voice from behind the door. It sounded almost dazed, as if she'd only just been made aware of her surroundings…just as it had in the labyrinths.

Upon opening the door and letting himself in, he found Caryll frantically sorting a set of papers and journals into a drawer not far from her desk, which she practically slammed shut just as he stepped inside. Afterwards, she snapped towards him, meeting his eyes and putting on an uncharacteristically broad smile.

"Ah, you've arrived. Wonderful," she greeted him before starting to make her way back to her desk. "My apologies for the sudden request. I need but a moment of your time."

Though taken aback by her great insistence, Laurence soon complied. "Please, think nothing of it. I've been intending to check on you for some time," he told her. "I hope that all is well?"

"Never better," said Caryll. "Everything seems so much…clearer to me now."

"Oh?" Laurence inquired, though she appeared somewhat hesitant to elaborate further.

"Worry not. I'm sure the same will be true for you soon…" she said before waving him in further. "Please, sit."

With little more than a raised brow, Laurence made his way to a chair on the opposite side of Caryll's desk and took a seat. Once he did, his host stood up from hers and without another word, pushed forward a single piece of paper, on which an incomprehensible – but not unfamiliar - symbol was drawn in red ink.

"I know what you saw, Laurence. And as I'm sure you've figured out, it was something you weren't meant to see." Upon hearing this, he finally tore his eyes away from the symbol, looking up to find that her expression was now deathly serious. "But seeing as you have, we might as well use it as a basis for further research. Now, tell me. Were there any, shall we say, developments after the fact?"

Unsurprisingly, all was as Laurence predicted. It was only a matter of time until she confronted him about this or he her. They both wanted answers and given what she said, there was no point in feigning ignorance.

"As a matter of fact, there was," he replied. "Almost the moment I laid eyes on it, I felt a strange sensation within my mind; like a defective gear in a machine suddenly clicking back into place. And soon after, I began to hear a voice."

"And could you understand what it was saying?" Caryll then asked.

"Not in the least. Its words were incomprehensible, not to mention distant. It became clearer in specific parts of the tombs, but that didn't make it any easier to understand."

"No, I would imagine not…" she said in a quiet voice. Soon after doing so, she picked up a quill, dipped its tip in some ink and started to write on a separate slip of paper. "Does it still persist? The voice?"

"I have not heard it since we returned to the surface…at least, I do not believe I have. Occasionally, I do hear what could be traces of it, but it is difficult to tell for certain," he explained.

"That is not surprising," Caryll said amidst her writing. "His presence is weak here in Yharnam or at least, weaker than it is in Pthumeru."

"You refer to Oedon?"

Suddenly, her hand came to an abrupt stop, preventing her from streaking ink across the page. Caryll then raised her eyes up to briefly meet his, as if deliberating how she should respond. As the silence between them endured, Laurence put a finger on the symbol she'd placed in front of him.

"That is what this is meant to represent, is it not?" Laurence's question was met with yet more silence, but her reluctance was enough to tell him he'd presumed correctly. And she must've realized this as well, for she returned to her writing with a conceding sigh.

"Yes…"

Despite the fact this merely confirmed what he already suspected, the professor still found himself in a state of disbelief. To think that she possessed such an extraordinary ability, all without him being the wiser. And there was little chance that their expedition had been the first time this "awareness" had manifested in her, which begged the question…

"How long, Caryll?"

At first, she tried to make it seem like she hadn't heard him, but eventually, she set her quill aside. "Since I was but a girl," she revealed. "It was faint at first – a distant whisper that only I could hear. But of course, the childish superstitions I attributed them to didn't even come close to the truth."

"The Great Ones," said Laurence, looking back down at the symbol Caryll had drawn – one of many. "You can commune with them?"

"No. They do not address me and their words are impossible for me to replicate in speech…but I can comprehend their most basic meanings and attempt to transcribe them – quite crudely, as you can see."

"Crudely?" Laurence exclaimed in disbelief. "Caryll, this is ground-breaking! If you can understand their words, even partially, then surely others can, too."

"I assure you that the possibilities are not lost on me," she said. "And that you are not the first to recognize them."

Though she did not name them directly, he knew at once who it was Caryll was referring to. "Then I presume that Master Willem is aware of your 'gift'?"

"Of course. After all, it is he who taught me to embrace it rather than fear it," she revealed, which once again, did not surprise him in the least.

"Ah, yes, I see," said Laurence. "You sought him out, didn't you?"

"Actually…I didn't. In fact, it was quite the opposite." Despite the massive implications of this statement, Caryll did not sound proud of it. In fact, he couldn't help but notice a sense of disquiet behind her words, which made this already unexpected answer even more puzzling, not to mention worrying.

"What happened?" he eventually decided to ask, but she remained silent, staring blankly down at the sheets that cluttered her desk. After a few seconds, Caryll turned away from him and walked further into her office, stopping only a few steps away.

"Most don't understand the world like we do, Laurence. Perhaps that is for the better. The truth can be a truly frightening thing…especially when the veil is torn away without warning."

She was right, of course. Laurence had come to learn of the Great One's existence gradually and even then, he remembered being overcome with a feeling of utter despair. And how could he not? The very reality he'd come to know his whole life – the one thing he could truly feel confident in – had turned out to be a lie. Even today, these feelings of helplessness, of insignificance persisted; feelings that were the foundation of Master Willem's research.

But Laurence had been lucky enough to reach maturity before being met with this startling revelation. Yet Caryll, by her own admission, had only been a child when it began to be revealed to her. How could she have possibly handled it? Judging solely from her hung head and despondent demeanor, not very well.

"Can you imagine what it must've been like? The voices…they plagued me every waking moment, invaded my every dream: for reasons I simply couldn't understand. I was subjected to every possible treatment to rid me of them, but I realized that I could no sooner stop the sun's rising or the passing of the seasons. It was…unbearable…"

Caryll paused then and Laurence could see that she'd started to tightly grip her left wrist, which had started to shake. Given her choice of wording, as well as the sense of anguish in her words, the implications were not pretty.

"Everyone thought me mad, of course," she continued, releasing her wrist in the process. "Even my family turned their backs on me – had me 'institutionalized'. They said it was for my own good, but even then, I knew that they thought I was a lost cause, a sentiment that my so-called caretakers seemed to share. And for the longest time, I was left to rot there in the dark, until the very thing that had put me there became my only source of solace."

After another momentary pause, Caryll finally turned her head ever so slightly, revealing traces of a weak, almost vacant smile. "Pathetic, is it not?" she asked, ushering in a heavy silence and leaving Laurence to stare at her in complete and utter shock.

He didn't need to be told what happened next. Like most institutions in Yharnam, Byrgenwerth played a hand in the operation of its asylum, with its students often using its patients as subjects for research and under rare occasions, experimentation. That must've been how Master Willem caught wind of Caryll's 'condition' and upon realizing its true nature, led to him orchestrating her release from the facility, no doubt taking her under his wing afterwards. One need only imagine what would've become of her had he not.

As she continued to stand motionless near the other side of the room, Laurence finally stood up to his seat and slowly went up to her; upon reaching her, he briefly reached for her shoulder, but when even this failed to elicit a reaction from her, he reluctantly lowered his hand. "Caryll…I'm…"

"Yes, I'm sure you are," she said without even turning to him. "I know how you and others think of me; how much I've always befuddled you. I'm sure it's…grating for someone like you."

"That isn't true," he quickly insisted, but before he could say anything more, she finally turned to look him in the eyes.

"It's alright, Laurence. I have kept much from you, perhaps unjustly so. But that was never my choice," she said as if to assure him, displaying not an ounce of ill-will towards him.

And truth be told, Caryll's secrecy had indeed proven frustrating time and time again, especially during their recent excursion. He understood the cause behind her seemingly sudden delirium now, but at the time, it produced nothing but distress for him. After all, many before them have lost their minds journeying into Pthumeru's depths.

Yet just as it seemed she had said her piece, Caryll once again turned away from him. "Oh, but what are we without our secrets?"

It took Laurence but a moment to deduce the motive behind this statement, as well as everything that had come before. But rather than invoking guilt as was no doubt intended, it only served to irritate him, though he didn't let this show. "Must we really go through this again?"

"That would depend. Did you end up going through with your plan?" she asked.

"Indeed," Laurence replied. "But regardless, I tire of having to explain myself. I did what had to be done. That is all."

"If that is so, why are you so insistent on hiding the truth from Master Willem?" she asked him.

"I have told him enough," he quickly replied, turning to walk a few steps away in frustration. "The rest need not concern him."

"Does it not? You understand the significance of what we found, do you not? Of what you gave away?"

"I do. But not nearly as much as you, I'd reckon," he said rather accusingly, which as expected, seemed to silence her.

"So…that is why you came, is it?" Caryll said as if to herself.

Rather than denying it or changing the subject, Laurence continued. "The blood - you said that the chamber we found it in was blessed. I know those were not your original words, so what did they mean?"

"I don't know…" she unconvincingly replied, causing him to let out a quiet, somewhat frustrated sigh.

"Tell me, Caryll…" "I swear, I don't know!" she exclaimed. "I can only guess its true nature, same as you."

"Then what is your working theory?" Laurence asked calmly, finally turning to face his colleague, who still showed signs of reluctance. Whether she realized there was nothing she could do to dissuade him or simply that he'd succeeded in wearing her down, she finally gave her answer.

"That it is not of this world."

To this, Laurence merely nodded his head. This had been his exact conclusion based on his observation of the blood's make-up, which led him to scour Byrgenwerth's archives in order to find any sort of reference to something matching its description. As expected, he'd found nothing, but despite the brevity of Caryll's answer, it offered more substance than days of lucrative research could've provided.

"Oedon…his voice was especially clear in that chamber. It was like it was drawing me to the chalice. It has to be connected to him in some way, but how?"

"That is difficult even for me to say," said Caryll. "That information is most likely concentrated in Cainhurst's hands, but as we know, they are unlikely to share it. Especially now that they themselves are in possession of it."

"Yes…" Laurence agreed, stroking his chin as he paced away from Caryll. It was obvious that the lack of information regarding the blood – and the labyrinths as a whole - was due to Cainhurst's censorship. There were secrets they no doubt wanted to remain buried there…some clearly more than others.

"Have you ever considered why Cainhurst was so eager to claim this blood you now pursue?" Caryll suddenly asked, as if reading his thoughts.

"Of course, but without knowing its purpose, speculation is all but pointless," he replied. Soon after, he could hear the sound of approaching footsteps, followed by the faint sound of a book being removed from its place on the shelf. He turned just in time to see Caryll approaching him with her notebook in hand, quickly flipping through the pages until she seemed to find what she was looking for.

"Then perhaps this may interest you."

Stopping just beside him, she held the notebook open for him to see, revealing yet another one of her symbols; he could best describe it as a chain of lozenges connected by sharply-pointed arches, both of which gradually became smaller and smaller the further down it went. Yet unlike the last one he glimpsed, it seemed to have no effect on him. No voices, no sudden twinge: nothing.

"I first became aware of this message during our visit to Cainhurst, when I was asked to dance by that knight. But as you'd expect, I did not have the means to transcribe it then," she revealed. "However, I became aware of it again in Loran…through Lady Maria."

On the mention of her name, Laurence looked up at her, his curiosity piqued. "What does it mean?" he cautiously asked.

"It was difficult to discern, but roughly, it signifies 'corruption'."

"Corruption…?" Laurence repeated, uncertain - or perhaps, hopeful that he hadn't heard her correctly.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Although…it's strange."

"What is?" "With such a label, one would expect it to be attributed with malice, but that is not at all what I sensed, especially in the labyrinths. Rather, it sounded…welcoming. Desirous, even."

This explanation did little to quell the confusion that now raged within Laurence's mind. But amidst the deluge of questions this new information created, one stood above the rest.

"Why show me this?"

In response, Caryll merely looked up at him, closing her notebook soon after. "Just so you know what you're dealing with," she replied rather cryptically, turning to make her way back to the bookshelf immediately after. However, it didn't take long for Laurence to pick up on the subtext of her words, with which he was none too pleased.

"I reject your implication," he told her as she climbed on a stool, allowing herself to place her notebook back in its proper place.

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked in a disingenuous manner.

"You think my actions were driven by pity or perhaps that I've been beguiled somehow; both sentiments that I will not entertain for even an instant," said Laurence. "What I did, I did for Byrgenwerth."

"Maybe so," Caryll acknowledged as she brought herself back down to the floor. "But you also played right into Cainhurst's hands – gave them exactly what they wanted. And for what?"

Laurence narrowed his eyes, his patience hanging by a thread. "You dare accuse me of betrayal?"

"No, my dear friend. I only wish to remind you of the nature of things. There is a reason that Cainhurst are merely our benefactors, not our friends. Currying more favor than is necessary will get you nowhere."

"Neither will purposefully alienating them. Or openly violating the tenets of our agreement with no plan to deal with the consequences," he retorted while doing nothing to hide his frustration – not just with her, but Micolash as well.

"Oh, but you haven't been entirely transparent either, have you?" she pointed out. "Tell me. Does she know what you possess?"

He hesitated in answering, slightly lowering his gaze in the process. He hadn't admitted to it, but Lady Maria had proven rather perceptive. "Potentially…" he acknowledged.

Silence once again settled over them, with Caryll merely shaking her head and sighing to herself before turning back to the bookshelf, sorting through it without any indication that she even knew what she was looking for. "Then I sincerely hope your intuition is correct," she told him.

"As do I, Caryll," he commented before turning to leave. "As do I."

Before he could put much distance between them, his colleague called after him. "Do not mistake me, Laurence. I understand the reasoning behind your course of action - up to a point, that is. Master Willem placed a great deal of faith in you to navigate situations such as this, but you weren't given carte blanche. And besides, this blood…I fear it is more trouble than it is worth and not just in the context we find ourselves now."

This was very clearly meant as a warning and given who it was coming from, it did give Laurence some pause. It was not lost on him that he only found himself in this position because Master Willem willed it so or that he was tampering with powers he did not fully understand. But then again, weren't they all?

"A pleasure as always, Caryll," he said without so much as a glance, finally opening the door to her office and leaving her to her work, whatever it may be.

He really should've seen this coming. After all, Caryll had been present when he detailed his plan; she hadn't spoken up then, but it was clear that she shared in the more vocal Micolash's misgivings, though perhaps not for the same reasons. Yet much like with him, Laurence walked away from this meeting certain that she wouldn't reveal the truth to Master Willem, regardless of the loyalty she must've felt she owed him. Because, like him, she knew that their mutual mentor would find out about it one way or another.

He always did.

But rather than spending yet more time dwelling on this dilemma, Laurence instead turned his thoughts to the little that Caryll had divulged to him. If Lady Maria was indeed corrupted as she claimed, then in what way? Though at once, the answer to this question seemed obvious. The blood that he had acquired was nothing short of pristine, something that she – and no doubt, the rest of her bloodline - must've been more than aware of. And yet, if Caryll's second observation was also correct, this very same imperfection was considered desirable by the Great Ones themselves.

It just didn't make any sense…unless…

...