Many years ago, before the city had gone to hell, a curious tragedy struck. The Ashen Blood, a malady that ravaged Old Yharnum, had somehow spread to the Sanctum of the Cathedral Ward.
With surgical precision, a whole family fell ill. A good, wealthy, but foreign family that had come from over the mountains, drawn by the promise of the Healing Blood.
In the night, the dying son was spirited away by Churchmen in white robes…
The sunlight gleamed off the white stonework of Cathedral Ward. Songbirds chirped and flew overhead, building nests on the roofs of the newly constructed wings of the Cathedral. Crows perched and cawed on the ledges of the stained glass windows of the church, competing with the sound of water rushing from the stone fountain to be heard.
Amelia sat on one of the benches that lined the church's fountain square, enjoying the sunshine, a heavy leather bound book in hand. The wind gently tousled her intricately braided hair, making her pink hair ribbons flap lazily in the breeze along with her healing church shawl. The sunlight seemed to make her white robes and blonde, nearly white hair glow.
It would be a tragedy to study inside on such a beautiful day, and the illuminated text looked much better when lit by the sun. The Clergy of the healing church bustled about the square, citizens and parishioners strolled, enjoying the rare good weather in the usually damp and cloudy Yharnam.
As a studious Nun of the Healing Church, Amelia would not let the commotion distract her from her reading. Every member of the Healing Church was to be knowledgeable of all of its aspects, even the ancient history of the city. Reading such a large and obscure text was proving difficult, but Amelia managed by writing summary notes. She reviewed what she had written so far.
Yharnum was once the ancient city of 'Pthumeru', home to the Pthumerians, giants who had found the 'Eldritch truth'. The city takes its name from the last Pthumerian Queen, Yharnum. These giants had carved out tombs for the old gods under the city, tombs that the healing church has only scratched the surface of. It is where we found the healing blood.
There are still some Plumerians around today, their descendants who lack the eldritch knowledge, like The Church Giants, and that man in the Oedon Chapel, I think. They live a long time, and can go into a state like a torpor if needed, but they look awfully corpse-like afterwards. The text does not say if they recover. How awful!
Note: I want to go see the tombs someday, but Vicar Laurence says it is far too dangerous. They say that some Pthumerians are down there in a torpor, and they are not friendly when woken up!
Amelia touched her fountain pen to her lips, thinking. She added a few new lines to her notes.
I wonder what the Old Blood is? Is it from the entombed Gods? To consume the blood of the Gods...is that right? I suppose humanity really is ascending…!
"Studying hard, Amelia?" A man's voice startled her from her thoughts.
"Sir Ludwig!" Amelia smiled, closing her book carefully. She waved her notes about in the air to try to dry the ink. She had forgotten before and had ended up with smudged pages and ruined notes!
Ludwig smiled, giving a short bow. A soldier before becoming a cleric of the church, Ludwig was handsome, but his face was marred with a network of scars from his previous life. Amelia thought of him as more of a knight straight out of a storybook, with his long, tied back hair and morose smile, more suited to shining armor then then white robes of the church.
"What do you have there? More dusty tomes to memorize?" He asked, taking a look at her notes.
"It's history, therefore it is very dusty indeed! It is written in old common too! Very many e's and y's where they should not be!"
Ludwig chuckled. "You ought to run along to see the Vicar, now. He wishes to speak with you."
"Oh!" Amelia quickly brushed off her robes, checking for ink spots. "Did you just see him? What does he wish to say?"
Ludwig's face turned momentarily grim. He set his square jaw firmly.
"Possible dangers to the Church, and how best to deal with it, that is all. Nothing for you to worry about." Amelia wondered what on earth that could possibly mean.
"I'm sure he has a more pleasant conversation in mind for you. Or perhaps more dull training to be Vicar someday." Ludwig's smile returned, and he patted Amelia's shoulder.
"It is not dull! It is of the utmost importance!" Amelia argued, crossing her arms over her book and notes with a smile.
"Then hurry along now, and don't keep him waiting." Ludwig gave a church bow, Amelia returning the gesture before skipping off, her sudden movement startling the birds.
"Is something wrong, Vicar?" Amelia bowed properly, hands clasped to her front, her white robes rustling loudly in the quiet office.
Vicar Laurence stood before the Study's window, gazing out on the Cathedral Ward. He turned and smiled at the girl warmly.
The Vicar was tall and gaunt, his sallow skin seeming to glow in the light from the window. Despite his smile, the happiness on his face never seemed to reach his eyes, which remained dour under his heavy brow. Amelia sometimes wondered about the amount of troubles that plagued the Vicar so. They would be hers, someday.
"There is much to think on, my dear. As always. You are succeeding in your studies?"
"Of course, Vicar!" Amelia said cheerfully.
The Vicar's eyes flicked down to the book in her hands.
"Ah, our history. I see that it has not proven too dense?" He asked, approval in his voice.
"I must admit, it's a bit tricky! It's in the old hand, and hard to read! So I've been taking notes to review and make sure I understand it!" Amelia handed him her notes.
Vicar Laurence skimmed the papers and beamed. "The makings of a true scholar. If Byrgenwerth were still a place of learning, you would have been top of the class."
"Thank you kindly!" Amelia curtsied. "What was it you wished to speak about?"
Laurence paused, his face darkening. He sat back at the desk, frowning.
"There has been a terrible tragedy. An entire family in the Ward has succumbed to the ashen blood, leaving behind only the youngest son."
"Ashen blood? Here?" Amelia gasped, clutching her skirts in horror. "That's terrible! Vicar, will he live?"
"We are trying everything we can to save his life-Amelia, you are to be Vicar someday. Your duties will be to provide comfort to the sick and ailing. He is a young boy, a few years younger than yourself, I would guess." Laurence said grimly, taking a seat behind his desk.
"Will he be catching?" Amelia asked, worried. "I mean, you would not send me if it's dangerous, of course!"
Laurence smiled. "I would never. At this stage, the ashen blood is not contagious. Do not be frightened by his appearance."
Amelia shuddered. Ashen blood was a terrifying affliction to behold. Death was a common sight in Yharnum, despite all the Church had done, and she had seen the victims of the Disease. Gaunt, hollow faces, stained grey from the eyes and mouth. It was whispered that the Ashen Blood dyed the sufferer's blood grey, then their tears and saliva to produce such a ghastly effect.
"Vicar? What is his name?"
Laurence looked up from his desk, eyebrows furrowed.
"Ah, I must have not asked for it. You could ask him yourself."
The Infirmary was an older building, from a time when Cathedral Ward was just another part of the decrepit sprawl outside of old Yharnum. Somehow, this building had survived the demolition to build the Cathedral, and was now functioning as the medical center for the church until better facilities were built. Amelia frowned at the cobwebs in the high ceiling and the dirty windows. The better the new hospital was built, the better.
After being directed, then guided by a rather foul tempered nurse, Amelia soon found herself before a door marked Qurentine. Well, if Vicar laurence said the patient was not contagious, then she trusted him fully.
"Hello?" Amelia could not see the patient, but she could hear his raspy, irregular breathing as she entered the room. The door squeaked as it shut behind her, and the floorboards creaked under her dress shoes.
"My name is Amelia-The Vicar himself sent me to say hello to you!"
The room was small and cramped, illuminated by a single dirty window, with a tiny cot in the corner next to an equally miserable nightstand. The patient was nowhere to be seen, but the lump under the sheets was enough of a clue about the boy's whereabouts.
Here was a conundrum. Amelia could not lift the sheets to properly greet the patient- that would be terribly rude! But simply talking to him through the thin and dreadfully raggedy-cotton blankets was not ideal either.
How shameful that the Church's own medical institution gives patients such terrible sheets! She would speak to Laurence about them after this! As for the matter on hand, perhaps he was not able to get enough air under there?
"May I see you? It can't be good for you under there, especially in a stuffy room."
Silence. Whoever was under the blanket refused to move. Amelia put her hands on her hips.
"I can hear you trying to breathe from down the hall, you know. I beg of you, please surface!"
The blankets slowly moved, revealing a boy who looked more like a ghost than a child her own age. Amelia hid her shock, but stepped back involuntarily as he stared at her silently. The tell tale signs of ashen blood were apparent-grey stains trailed from his mouth and down his cheeks like tear tracks. His green eyes were clouded, the whites stained grey.
Emerging from under the sheets did not seem to do anything to help his breathing, as his ragged breaths were the only sound in the quiet room as Amelia composed herself.
"Hello. I'm Amelia. What is your name?"
The boy said nothing, only shifting his gaze to stare at the ceiling. Amelia noted his wispy and thin blonde hair-another symptom of the ashen blood, no doubt.
"Are you feeling any better today? Would you like anything?"
The boy looked at her again, then back up at the cracked plaster ceiling, breathing unsteadily through his mouth. Amelia waited patiently, but it seemed he was far too out of it to even acknowledge she was there.
"I shall come back later-once you are feeling better!" She said, turning to leave. A hand grabbed her wrist, surprising her. The boy had sat up in bed to reach her, and was now feebly gripping her hand. He gazed at her, still silent.
"Oh! I will not leave, then." Amelia was unsure of what to say or do. She took his dimpled hand off her wrist, watching it flop back on the bed weakly. It seemed that he had used all his strength in asking her to stay, as he was breathing harder.
Amelia wished there was a chair, or any place to sit in such a sparse little room! There was only that sad little cot and a lonely bedside table, and she was not going to sit on the bed and take away from what little space the boy had! She wondered if she was his only visitor, with the rest of his family gone. She would bring flowers from the Church's gardens on her next visit
Once the patient had collected himself, he sat up again, looking intently at Amelia, opening his mouth slightly as if to speak. Amelia smiled.
"It's alright, you can talk to me! That's what I'm here for!"
The patient shook his head. He tried opening his mouth again, only to give up entirely. He slumped on the bed, looking dejected.
"Oh, by the blood-you can't speak! I'm dreadfully sorry!" Amelia apologized. "Is it because your throat hurts?"
A shallow nod.
"Does it hurt terribly now?"
Another nod.
"I'm sorry!"
Unsure of what to say or do with herself, Amelia stepped towards the window.
"Do you want the curtains open or closed?"
The boy stared at her. Well, she felt foolish-that was hardly a yes or no question.
"Would you like the curtains closed?"
Nod nod.
"Alright-the light must be too much when you are trying to rest."
She closed the blinds, curling her lip in disgust at the cobwebs and dead bugs on the window. This was no place for anyone to heal!
The boy looked healthier in the dimmed light-possibly as it masked his ghostly pale skin, and disguised the grey stains on his face. He settled in comfortably, giving Amelia a quick smile.
"Is there anything else you would like? Water?"
A nod.
Amelia noted the empty bedside table once more-no bell, no way of alerting a nurse for any needs. This was no way to run an Infirmary! Well, when she was in charge, every patient would have a clean room, a cozy bed, nurses on call, and clean windows!
"I will get you some-and I will have a word with the doctors here-keeping you in such a small, filthy room-it's terrible!"
He only looked at her, puzzled at the sudden outburst. Did the patient not understand that he deserved better than this? How heartbreaking!
When Amelia returned, cup and pitcher of water and hand, the Patient was asleep, his irregular breathing having evened out. She smiled, placing the water on the table. She was going to have Words with the doctor.
"It is a quarantine room, young miss. We cannot have Doctors going in and out every moment of the day." The doctor sighed, shuffling his papers. Amelia stood opposite his desk, four feet and eight inches of righteous fury.
"Vicar Laurence himself said the Ashen Blood is not contagious in this stage!" Amelia stated, hands on her hips. The doctor sighed, pushing up his wired spectacles. His crooked nose and sagging left eye were typical of a true Yharnumite.
"It is a precaution. You were only allowed inside on the Vicar's blessing-" He started, only to be interrupted.
"And he's all alone! No way to ask for help, or even leave the room! He got tired just sitting up!"
"Yes, flu-like symptoms are part of the disease, as well as grey particles being secreted from the eyes and mouth, leaving stains." He droned, continuing with his paperwork.
"Do you even care?" Amelia asked sharply, folding her arms.
"Yes. I do care. Like I care about my many, many other patients. Besides, he won't be in my hands much longer. The Choir is taking over the case, and moving the boy to the upper Cathedral ward."
"The Choir? It's that bad?" Amelia asked, her brown eyes wide with shock. While Vicar Laurence was training her to be the next Vicar, The Choir was still a mystery to Amelia. She knew they worked in trying to elevate and evolve mankind, and that they were rumored to hold audience with one of the Old Gods. Whenever the Vicar met with them, he never took her along. If the Choir was taking an interest, the poor boy must be in really bad shape!
"Yes. It is that bad. The fact he is able to sit up at all is a miracle in itself. Now I have the Choir breathing down my neck, and when they get involved, the freaks from Mensis are soon to follow." The doctor muttered sourly. "If it was not for the Vicar's interest, we would have written him off as a lost cause. He's had his brain practically boiled by fevers along with the ravages of the disease. The boy probably won't even recognize the face of his own mother-if he heals. That's a damn slim chance"
"That's horrible!" Amelia cried. "You can't just give up on him like that!"
"Young Miss." The man stood up at his desk, furrowing his busy brows over his mismatched eyes.
"You are Vicar Laurence's favorite, despite the fact you are accursed with the features of an Outsider, but I have other patients to attend to. Run along now, don't you have scripture to memorize, or other sick little Outsider boys to worry over?"
Amelia scowled.
"At least tell me his name!"
"The Church Hunters who brought him in gave us no information beyond that he is an orphan, terribly afflicted, and to be saved at any cost, Vicar's orders. If you wish to give him a name, call him John Doe. Infact, call him anything. Just get out of my office." The doctor shooed her out, and slammed the wooden door shut.
"What a wicked man!" Amelia huffed.
"Honestly, it is a state down there, Vicar!" Amelia fumed, pacing the Vicar's office.
"It is the state of things, I am afraid. The Church only has so many resources expend, as we only have so many faithful giving to the church. I am working to remedy that." The Vicar finished writing, putting his quill pen down. "We recently acquired a large amount of funds. I will see that a portion goes to our Infirmary. If the Ashen Blood continues to spread like this, we need to improve our healing capacities."
Amelia sighed, flopping herself down on a chair.
"Vicar, I'm afraid I was not much help to the patient. All I could do was bring him some water and close his curtains. I couldn't even make the doctor listen to me!"
"Nonsense." The Vicar sealed the envelope and set it aside. "You helped just by bringing your usual cheer and kindness. You brightened his day as surely as you brighten mine."
"Thank you Vicar!" Amelia cheered. "I just wish I knew his name. The Doctor did not know either!"
"I'm certain once he is able to speak again, he will tell you. And if not, well, the Church can grant him a new name, just as it did for you upon your Baptism." Vicar Laurence took out a heavy ledger and began to skim it with concentration.
"But that was only because of my being a Blood Saint." Amelia frowned. "I was given a new name to let go of my past and to dedicate myself fully to the Church. Every Blood Saint is supposed to."
"I feel that our patient may also want to let go of his past. Whether he wishes to dedicate himself to the church or not is up to him. I will give you permission to see him in the Choir's care."
"Thank you!" Amelia said, bowing. Laurence smiled at her.
"You ought to spend more time with children your own age. Just...do not let it cut into your studying, yes?"
"Yes sir!"
Amelia scurried off. Laurence went back to work, shaking his head fondly. After proper training, and the maturity that came with age, Amelia would make a caring Vicar. Once that would make up for all his missteps and mistakes.
He sighed, looking over a recent entry in the ledger. A family had 'donated' their entire home and fortune a week before. His grave mistake had aided the church, but at what cost? He put his head in his hands.
He was on the right path. That was merely a miscalculation, and the end result would be the ascension of mankind, gifted with sacred blood.
Amelia paused at the Chapel of Oedon, frowning as she looked upwards at the higher levels of Cathedral Ward. This was her first time ascending to such heights-if only the Vicar would come with her! She rarely saw him leave his office other than to give sermons and attend communion. Something was eating away at the man, she was sure of it! If only she knew what it was...
It had taken a few days for the Choir to allow her to come, and she hoped that the Patient-should she call him John Doe, like the mean Doctor said? Just calling him patient or boy seemed so dehumanizing, but John seemed to fit him even worse. She set her face, determined, and entered the Chapel.
"Oh! Hello miss!" The Chapel Dweller turned his head at the sound of her entering, and waved a long fingered hand at her, smiling nervously. Grey skinned and gaunt, the Dweller seemed to be as much a fixture of the Chapel as the incense burners or candles. Despite his corpse-like appearance, he was a gentle soul.
"Hello sir!" Amelia replied warmly.
"Do I smell flowers? It's hard to tell. They burn a much stronger incense these days, and my eyes are just getting worse."
"Indeed, they are! You ought to try some Blood ministry, it might help your eyes." Amelia walked over, holding out one of the Daisies she had plucked. The Dweller took it gratefully.
"Oh no, sorry. None for me. I'm the old fashioned type, Miss. 'Sides, I don't think I could afford it. I'm happy enough, livin' on the Church's hospitality towards a poor ol' Pthumerian. Thank you kindly for the flower."
"Well, have a wonderful day, sir! I'm off to the Upper Ward!"
"Good bye miss, and careful, those steps get a bit slick after the rain." He called as Amelia started the elevator.
The Dweller smiled, sniffing the daisy.
"Much better then the incense. I ought to get out more."
"Oh, my! This must be Miss Amelia." A Choir member bowed, smiling at her as she left the staircase. The narrow bridge above the city was at a dizzying height, embraced by the massive gnarled trees that grew on either side of it. Amelia could see nothing but branches and the rooftops all around and below.
"Are you here to see the little John Doe? It's a very interesting case, indeed!" Her grin grew wider under her blindfold cap.
Amelia drew back nervously, clutching the daisies to her chest. She wished that the Vicar had come with her. She usually was not so shy, but something about this woman was ringing alarm bells.
"Come now, dear. I won't hurt you. It's a great honor to meet the Vicar's chosen successor."
"Likewise." Amelia said, smiling faintly.
"Oh, flowers! How wonderful. I will get you a nice vase. Poor boy doesn't get any visitors. Of course, we usually don't take patients, let alone let people visit, but it was Vicar's orders. Learning to counteract poisoning would be a boon to all of mankind."
"Poisoning?" Amelia asked, confused. They entered through the main gate. More Choir scholars appeared, speaking to each other in hushed voices, all wearing the same intricate white robes and blindfolded caps. Amelia wondered how they could see. None paid her any mind.
"Pardon me, illness. Well, we cannot refuse the Vicar, it's thanks to him and Master Wilhelm that we are on this blessed path towards the cosmos."
"Oh! Yes-is it true you commune with The Great Ones?" Amelia's curiosity was outweighing her nervousness. Her chaperone gave a mysterious smile.
"You will know all about that someday, Miss Vicar-to-be."
"Alright, I will bring you a vase. Have a nice chat!" The Choir woman said, closing the door behind her.
The patient sat up once Amelia entered the room, giving her a weak smile. Some color had returned to his cherubic cheeks, and the grey stains had faded somewhat, making him look more tired and careworn then someone headed for the grave. His green eyes brightened when he saw the flowers in Amelia's arms.
"Well, it's a lot cleaner in here." Amelia said, setting the daisies down on the wood nightstand beside the bed. It was still rather rickety looking, but the sheets looked clean and he seemed more comfortable. A window by the bed was cracked open, letting fresh air circulate the room.
"Do you feel any better?"
An enthusiastic nod.
"Can you speak yet?"
A slow head shake and a sad sigh. The boy rolled on his side, looking dramatically miserable.
"Don't be discouraged! You'll feel better in no time! The Choir knows their stuff!" Amelia encouraged, pulling up a chair. She opened her satchel, to bring out a book. The boy sat back up, interested.
"Would you like me to read to you? I need to study history and such- but this one's an easier read than my usual fare. It's a collection of old stories ." She ran a hand over its embellished cover-a noble knight riding a horse rode across the cover, backlit by a massive golden sun.
"It's called 'The Knight that Shined'!" She said, holding up the book. It gleamed in the sunlight. Amelia opened the book to reveal a page of illuminated illustrations of knights, dragons, and castles. The boy sat up, interested.
"Isn't it beautiful? These are stories from Lordra, the land across the sea. They say old Gods lived there, once, but that's just legends. The only Gods are the Great Ones. Perhaps they were just very powerful beings, if they existed." Amelia explained, turning the page.
Amelia began to weave a tale of magic, 'Not something that exists, unless it was a gift from the cosmos, of course', heroes and old gods, centering around a pure and heroic Knight that traveled the land, helping all those who were in need.
The boy listened raptly, drinking in the story and the beautiful illustrations. Amelia smiled as she read. It was wonderful to have such an attentive listener!
"When the whole land was plunged into darkness when the old sun burned out, the Knight knew just what to do. He shined so brightly, that he himself became the sun in the sky, so he could forever bring warmth and light to all that see him." Amelia closed the book gently. The patient smiled at the ending and clapped feebly.
"Well, you need to rest, and I have studies to attend to-" Amelia rose from the seat and turned towards the door. "Strange, that lady never came back with the vase."
"Don't go." A soft voice rasped behind her.
"You can talk now!" Amelia exclaimed as she whirled around joyfully. "Please, tell me your name then!
The boy slumped back on the bed, avoiding her gaze, his voice hardly more than a whisper.
"I...can't remember it."
"Oh." Amelia frowned. "Do you have amnesia? How much did you forget?"
The boy stared at her in shocked silence as Amelia realized how foolish that sounded.
"I mean, er, what do you recall?" She asked,returning to her seat. He coughed softly and swallowed hard, reminding Amelia of how taxing just two sentences had been.
"Not a lot, huh?" She asked, trying to lighten his verbal load. He nodded sadly, drawing his knees to his chest to curl up.
The cruel doctor's words echoed in her mind. ' He's had his brain practically boiled by fevers along with the ravages of the disease. The boy probably won't even recognize the face of his own mother-if he heals. '
Sadly, having no memories might be for the best, but Amelia was not going to break the news about what happened to his family, she thought, as he shyly looked away from her again, gazing out the window. A crow perched on the sill briefly, before taking off again.
"I hate it here." He whispered, watching the bird take off. Amelia looked at him in shock.
"The doctors are doing all they can to help you! They care, not like the infirmary."
The Patient sunk down in the sheets. Amelia wondered if he was going to bury himself in them again, like during their first meeting. They both remained silent for a few minutes. Birds swooped past the window, casting shadows on the floor and walls.
"They don't talk to me." He rasped. He looked back at Amelia, his green eyes murky. In the light, Amelia could fully see what the Ashen blood had done to him. Although the grey stains and tear trails were fading, the marks stood out clearly on his anemic pallor. His eyes were sunken above puffy eyebags, framed by limp, wispy hair. Despite still having a youthful, full face, there was an air of hollowness about him.
"I'm sorry…" Amelia said softly, looking down. For some reason, she was having trouble meeting his gaze. "I will tell the Vicar-and I promise, I'll visit you everyday!"
When Amelia looked up, the boy had retreated under the blankets once more, giving only silence in response. She stood up, picking up the book, before pausing.
"Do you want me to leave the book?"
"...Yes." Came a soft, muffled voice.
"Alright! It's on the table! I'm going now! See you tomorrow!" Amelia walked towards the door, pausing to listen for a moment. She looked expectantly at the lump under the sheets.
"...Good bye."
Amelia smiled. How wonderful that he could speak a little now! The next step was to ask those doctors to have a better bedside manner! Certainly the Vicar would help!
Amelia ran to Laurence's office, pausing to see if his door was open before coming in. An open door meant that Laurence was available to be spoken with, and a closed door meant he was not to be bothered.
To her delight, it was ajar.
"Vicar Laurence! Vicar Laurence-" Amelia burst through Laurence's office into the study, beaming with delight. Laurence looked up from his desk, surprised.
"The patient is doing so much better! He spoke today! When I was reading-" Amelia stopped, startled as an unfamiliar man rose from the chair by Vicar Laurence's desk.
He was impressively bearded and thin, seeming to unfold more than rise from his seat until he loomed over Amelia and the Vicar, his head seeming to scrape the ceiling. Amelia stepped back instinctively, like a mouse caught in a hawk's shadow. There was no sound other than the rustle of his golden robes, and the distant chirps of the birds outside.
"Who might this be?" The giant finally spoke, pointing a gaunt finger at Amelia. His voice was eerily deep to emerge from such a narrow frame.
"Logarius! You are scaring her!" The Vicar stood at his desk, staring Logarius down in a rare show of anger. The two men held gazes for a tense moment before Logarious sat down again, somehow able to fold his long body into a human sized seat.
"I'm sorry! I did not know you were having a meeting-I saw the door was ajar and I thought-" Amelia started, before Laurence waved a hand.
"No matter. It must have not been fully shut. Amelia, this is Master Logarious, founder and leader of the Executioner Sect. Logarius, this is Amelia, my successor."
"Your protege." Logarious said, staring at Amelia. His eyes were an icy blue under impressive brows. Amelia felt like she was being studied.
"Pardon me, sir, are you a Pthumerian?" Amelia asked. A smile spread across Logarious's thin lips, only to vanish just as quickly.
"Very astute indeed." He said. Amelia realized that he had not blinked once during the whole encounter.
"Vicar...what is the purpose of the Executioners?" Amelia squirmed, wishing to leave, but her curiosity was piqued. The Vicar made to speak, only to be interrupted by Logarious.
"Our glorious purpose is to completely eradicate the Vilebloods, the foul sons and daughter of Cainhurst." His blue eyes glittered murderously under his thick eyebrows. "Their Blood is that of corruption, the Antithesis to our own Good Blood. They must be wiped out fully, lest their corruption spread. A mission that cannot be accomplished without our own source of the Old Blood."
"Blood Saints, as I have said time and time again, are in short supply, Logarious." Laurence's words were icy. "They are needed for communion, to heal the sick. Your band is not in need of healing blood at the moment."
"I plan to besiege the center of evil itself, Vicar." Logarious growled. "I will not take my Executioners into the maw of hell unprepared."
"I will take my leave then!" Amelia piped up, deeply uncomfortable. She would come back later, perhaps study, or return to John Doe's side, or-
"No, no-I believe it was Logarious that was leaving." The Vicar said, a steely edge to his words. "Whilst I take time to consider his request."
"Very well." Logarious bowed shallowly. "Consider hard, Vicar. Do you wish for this evil, this heresy to continue unchecked? Then grant us a source of blood." He strod out, golden robes billowing dramatically-an effect only somewhat ruined by the man needing to duck to exit through the doorway.
With the Pthumerian gone, the atmosphere in the office instantly felt lighter. Vicar Laurence let out a tired sigh, running a hand through his thinning hair.
"I am sorry you had to see that, Amelia. Logarius, the Executioners-they are a necessary evil. The blood they minister there is corrupt. We have had reports of monstrous creatures roaming the countryside, wicked flea-like beasts attacking innocent folk for their blood. Ludwig has been trying to drum up a force, but the populace thinks they are too far to harm us in the city."
"He seemed very fanatic!" Amelia said, shuddering. Ludwig nodded.
"Logarius is a fanatic, my dear, and he has hated Cainhurst for far longer than they have misused the holy blood. His men revere him as a Saint. Thankfully, his and their fantatism is on our side."
"Does he hate them for their misuse of blood? Then why would he hate them before the blood was found?" Amelia asked. She wrecked her brain to remember her history-Cainhurst was a family of nobles that ruled in the lands beyond Hemwick Hamlet. They had always been at odds with Yharnum, but thankfully, there had never been any wars.
"Probably an old grudge, from before our time. Pthumerians have long lives, and even longer memories. But the Cainhurst heresy must be stopped. The Church depends on it." Vicar Laurence said firmly. "Thus, we must continue to support and overlook Logarius and his little band of Executioners. Even if they require a Blood Saint, like yourself."
Amelia bowed her head.
"I'm not old enough to give blood yet, Vicar."
"I know. You are still growing, and to take blood would be far too dangerous for your health. But your blood was found to be curative."
"I certainly hope I am still growing! I am far too short!" Amelia sighed. "No one will take me seriously as a Vicar if I cannot look over the pulpit!"
Laurence chuckled. "We shall get you a box, then. They shall take you seriously, Amelia. You know the scripture well. With your blood, you will provide Communion, and with your words, guidance."
"Seek the Old Blood." Amelia recited, smiling at the Vicar. He smiled back.
"Seek the Old Blood."
A voice nagged in the back of her head. How was the church able to afford to keep a band of executioners whist leaving their healing facilities to molder and decay?
Amelia silenced those thoughts. She did not understand yet. Someday, she would.
-Present Day-
Opening the gate to the Forbidden Forest had only provided more questions than answers. The sight of a mummified corpse greeted the two men as they entered the guard tower, still clad in his mouldering guard uniform.
"Poor bastard behind the door's already dead." Quincy muttered, stepping forward cautiously. The scent of mold and age was overpowering, and their footsteps were enough to disturb the dust and cobwebs on the ceiling, causing a disgusting rain of particles on both men.
"By the state of decay…" Alfred shuddered, trying to brush off some of the dirt of, what seemed to be, centuries. There was no way a man could go from speaking to a shriveled mummy within a few hours-and yet, the evidence lay before them, staring with empty sockets.
"Times gone all wrong, Partner." Quincy shrugged, stepping out of the miserable tower. An equally eerie forest lay ahead, the torches of the transformed Hunters visible in the distance. Well, there was no turning back now. He had faced worse than a few blood drunk hunters and beasts. Quincy paused, turning to Alfred with a smile.
"Before we head out to Byrgenwerth, I have something for you." Quincy took Alfred's hand, pressing something into it. When he opened his fist, a shining golden medallion was revealed. It glittered gold, old, worn, and scratched, but someone-Quincy, probably, had polished it back to a gleam.
"It's beautiful-what is it?" Alfred asked, tilting it this way and that. Though time had nearly erased it, the engraven face of the sun was still visible on it, glinting in the moonlight that streamed through the trees. He ran his gloved thumb over the groves, wondering how long ago it had been made.
"It's an old treasure from my homeland. We find these around the ranch sometimes, buried in the dirt. Some treasure from old times. It's not actually gold, but no one can seem to find out what kinda metal it is. There's an old tradition of giving them to people that help you out." Quincy smiled, shyly adjusting his hat.
"You've been helping me out an awful lot, 'n I felt bad about what happened in the clinic-so I want you to have it." Quincy said, smiling up at him. Alfred wondered why his heart had begun to beat faster.
Alfred reached under his shawl, touching the Wheel Hunter badge that hung around his neck, trying to soothe his pounding chest. Was now the time to give Quincy one of the last badges, in return for such a kind gift? No. Later. Later, he would give Quincy one of his greatest treasures.
Looking at the medallion reminded him of the old story Amelia had told him in that miserable ward, so long ago. Alfred wondered what happened to her. She had achieved her dream, becoming Vicar, but he had not seen her since he was a child. Was she safe in Cathedral Ward? Did she remember him at all? Something must have gone horribly wrong if she stopped making public appearances not too long after the Beast Plague began to reach such a horrible point.
"You alright, pal?" Quincy asked, snapping him back to the present.
"Pardon me for getting lost in thought!" Alfred bowed, tucking the Medallion safely in a pocket. "I thank you deeply." Making alterations to The Sacred Uniform had not come without fierce internal debate, but additions such as pockets were necessary for such treasures as Quincy's gift.
Quincy nodded with a grin, setting out on the forest path. "Alright, back on the trail."
Notes: anticipated questions:
Why doesn't kid Alfred have a name?
Because all the Blood Saints have fancy A names and that would only work if he got a new name (it's okay it's an AU!...or is it). The amnesia also works into his character because it's obvious he doesn't/never had a life outside of the Church/Executioners. Also this way I don't have to give him a last name, because no one in Soulsborne has last names, what the hell.
Why does Quincy have a Sunlight medal?
Because I have to work in Dark Souls references in or I Will Die. Also there's hints to where Quincy is actually from in this chapter.
Why did you write Ludwig without playing the Old Hunters?
I'm an idiot, next question.