The last few weeks had settled into a regular rhythm for Amelia. She would study the old works of Byrgenwerth, attend all of Vicar Laurence's church services, and be tutored by the Vicar one on one for writing sermons, giving communion, and for the history of The Church.
Despite service to the Church being her passion, her favorite part of each day was visiting the John Doe. It turned out he was a passionate reader himself, pouring over her history notes and helping her study.
He was recovering well. No longer facing difficulties in speaking, the only barrier between them conversing was his surprising shyness. Even after happily reading together for a while, he would still retreat under the sheets, seemingly exhausted by even a small bit of interaction. Amelia understood. The isolation and trauma was no doubt wearing on the poor boy.
He never wished to talk about the treatments he was receiving to cure his illness, and Amelia knew not to press the issue. Their conversations mostly stayed in discussing the books she would bring to his small room. Despite having read through many other tombs, 'The Knight That Shined' remained his favorite.
As the days progressed, he slowly opened up to Amelia, soon talking more then she did during their visits. He must be dreadfully lonely up there. The Choir had an orphanage, but they were so strange and secretive with it that she doubted any of the children would be allowed to play with her friend.
The end of the happy rhythm began on one stormy summer day.
"Sir Ludwig?" Amelia exclaimed. The man turned from directing builders on the steps to the Upper Ward. Men with boards, hammers, and saws milled about the usually tranquil steps inside the old stone tower, left over from before Cathedral Ward had been built.
"Oh! Amelia! Fancy seeing you here." Ludwig bowed. "The Vicar gave me permission to start building a workshop near the steps to the Upper Cathedral."
"A workshop?" Amelia adjusted her bag. The thing was full of heavy books, and starting to cut into her shoulder. "For what?"
"The monsters that have been appearing in the countryside are increasing in numbers. Laurence-The Vicar, I mean, agrees that we ought to build a force to do something about it. So, I took a page from Logarius-," Ludwig wrinkled his nose in distaste. Amelia giggled.
"So, I decided to build our own workshop to make hunting tools and such. Train recruits and all that. It really brings me back to my old soldier days. Old Ghernams' been doing most of the directing. He's a strange old bird, but he's been fighting the beasts near Hemwick before the Church knew about what was happening."
"The monsters are getting that bad? Where could they be coming from?" Amelia asked. The Vicar had mentioned beasts, and she had read tales-often with the John Doe-of monsters that lurked in faraway lands, like demons, dragons and such. She was pretty sure that those were just stories, however, but if Ludwig said such things existed, she would not doubt him. She wondered who this Gherman was.
"They have been growing in numbers. They are...hideous things." Ludwig shuddered. "Men and women, turned into bloated, licking fleas by some dark magic. Ghernam reported even worse beasts out in the woods."
"But..magic does not exist!" Amelia said. If Ludwig was shaken by such things, they must truly be awful.
A smile spread across Ludwig's scarred face.
"Magic does exist, Miss. I'll show you." Ludwig walked to a worktable, beckoning Amelia over. He picked up an object wrapped in strips of leather.
"Few people have had a good look at this blade up close. It is the dearest thing to me, next to yourself and Laurence." Ludwig slowly unwrapped it, slowly revealing a shining silver blade. Amelia gasped in wonder.
"In my darkest moment, I found it in the depths of Chalice Dungeons." He ran his fingers down the flat of the sword, smiling. "I was a mere soldier before, but after finding this sword…"
Before Amelia's very eyes, the blade transformed, going from a mundane, if beautifully wrought sword, to an object of ethereal wonder. It glowed a brilliant blue, increasing in length and width. The very cosmos seemed to swirl within the blade, stars and nebula danced within its depths.
"It speaks to me, guides me. I know I will never become lost, that I shall always remain resolute, as long as it remains by my side." Ludwig held the blade up, obscuring the right side of his face. "That, dear Amelia, is true magic."
"It truly is!" Amelia exclaimed as the blade faded back to normal. Ludwig chuckled, gently re-wrapping it in leather.
"Now, what is your reason for coming up here, lass?"
"Oh!" Amelia had totally lost track of what she was doing! "I was supposed to see someone in Upper Cathedral Ward!"
"You ought to get going!" Ludwig said, stifling a laugh. "Don't keep them waiting!"
Amelia waved and rushed off. She could not wait to tell her friend about what she just saw!
"And it shone and flickered! It was like a moonbeam full of stars." Amelia said, spreading out her arms. "And it was this big!"
"Wow." The boy rasped, smiling. He was sitting cross legged on the bed, having become strong enough to not need the support of a wall or pillow, but he still tired easily. "Just like a Knight?"
"Exactly like a Knight!" Amelia agreed, sitting on the bed. Both children jumped when fat raindrops began to patter against the window pane.
"Ugh. I'm going to have to walk back out in that." Amelia sighed dramatically. Thunder rolled distantly. Amelia began to fumble in her bag for a candle to light, as the clouds outside had obscured the natural light the room usually relied on.
She looked up to see the patient make his wobbly, unsure way to the window, and slowly lift up the pane a crack, sticking his hand out to the rain.
"What are you doing?" She asked, surprised.
"I want to feel it." He winced. "It's chilly." Despite this, he did not move.
"You might catch a cold!"
"I can't get much worse." Rain blew in through the crack, letting the droplets splatter on the wooden floor. The boy closed his eyes, smiling.
"Feels like I'm outside."
Amelia frowned as she lit the candle, placing it in the holder on the table. For some reason, the Choir had not upgraded to gas yet.
"Don't you remember feeling rain before?"
"No, but I can hardly remember everything I've forgot." He said, smiling. Amelia smiled back. Humor was a good sign.
"You can still remember how to talk. And read!" Heavens, had he ever. Amelia brought him a new book each time she visited.
"Will the Choir be cross about a wet floor?" She asked, worried.
"Who cares? They don't let me outside, so they can take a little rain on the floor. After you asked them to be nicer all they say is 'Good morning, John.' or whatever time it is." The boy huffed, putting his other hand out to feel the rain. "Whatever my name is, it sure isn't John! When I tell them that, they say I'm fresh! Can you believe that?"
Well, he has certainly gotten a bit more talkative, Amelia thought as he went on his whispered rant. He frowned, worried.
"I'm not fresh, am I? I'm not quite sure what that would even mean."
"Of course not!" Amelia said, trying to reassure him. The candle flickered as a gust of wind blew through the window.
"I can't help but wonder if they will ever let me go. I'm tired of just books and the window-" The boy paused, looking at her shocked face. "Oh no, I quite like the books! It's just…" He looked down at his slippers, embarrassed.
"You want more than that, of course." Amelia said, with a worried frown.
He slowly tugged the window shut, wiping his hands on the linen pyjamas the Choir had given him.
"I'd be happy just going outside. I don't want a big adventure or a grand destiny." The way his voice twisted slightly when he said those words told Amelia a different story. Maybe she had given him too many fantasy novels?
"I just want to walk around in the square outside like everyone else." He said, picking at the hem of the pyjamas. "Or see the ocean up close. On clear days I can see it, you know. It looks awfully far off, but I can see the glint of the sun off it, and on hot days, sometimes the seagulls perch by the window." He sighed wistfully. "Seems all my time is reading or bird watching, when I'm not being stuck with needles."
"The Choir isn't too awful to you, are they?" Amelia asked. He frowned, sitting next to her on the bed. The Grey stains had nearly vanished, but the whites of his eyes were still somewhat darker then they should have been.
"They are making me better, even with the terrible needles and medicines." He sighed, thinking. "The food is horrible."
"You don't remember anything different!" Amelia said, chuckling.
"I know it's bad." He said, crossing his arms stubbornly. "And it's so loud at night."
"Loud at night? What happens?"
"There's...singing. Like chanting." The boy looked reluctant to say, a show of shyness Amelia had not seen for the last days week. "I try going under the sheets, try to burrow my head, I still hear it. Voices saying something about a cause, or cause-em. Then they start singing. It sounds like 'mal-a diktus do nam best yah'."
"Well, the Choir is trying their best to study the gods. You must be hearing some kind of ritual!" Amelia said, excited. The boy shuddered.
"I don't know. It doesn't seem right. What if the gods don't like it?"
"The Great Ones are sympathetic in spirit. We need only to catch their attention, and then we will find gifts greater than the Blood!" Amelia said, smiling. "That's what The Vicar told me!"
The boy pondered this.
"Well...I hope they are nice. What does the Vicar do?"
Amelia grinned widely. She knew all about this!
"Vicar Laurence administers Communion, or bequeathing The Good Blood upon the Healing Church's congregation! He also gives sermons on the Blood and the Ancient Truths discovered at Byrgenwerth, as well as going over day to day church business. I am his student-he chose me to be his Successor!"
The boy looked a bit shocked. "That's a very big job."
"Well, it's alright. He's preparing me for it. It's a lot of work, along with preparing to be a Blood Saint, as well. I will be the provider of Communion in more ways than one. When my blood is no longer potent, I will remain as Vicar." Amelia smiled. The boy looked concerned.
"You give your blood?"
"Well, not yet. But when I'm older, I will." Amelia explained.
"Why?" He asked, still looking worried.
"To share the Church's healing gifts! My blood replicated the Old Blood's healing after treatments, so I am a source of the Good Blood. All Blood Saints are like that. It helps others, selflessly."
The boy looked at the 'The Knight That Shined' on the bed.
"Like a sacrifice."
"Um, well, it's not that extreme, not like dying and becoming the sun." Amelia said, waving a hand. "But it is a sacrifice, yes."
The rain slowly began to cease outside, and weak sunlight struggled to illuminate the room through the clouds. The boy stared longingly out the window.
"What will I do when I'm better, Amelia? They told me about…" He paused, swallowing hard. "What happened."
"Well, the church has an orphanage. That's where I grew up, but Laurence took me in when I was quite young, so I don't remember it well. The Choir might take you, in fact! The children they teach are educated by them, and become part of the Choir-"
"No!" The boy interjected, horrified. Amelia tilted her head, puzzled.
"You will learn all about the Cosmos, all the secrets of creation-" She tried, before he cut her off again.
"No, you don't understand-The Choir, well, they give me the creeps!" His voice was the loudest she had heard it, even though it was only a hair louder than a raspy whisper. "I would be happier to be at an orphanage or anywhere but here! The moment I'm allowed to, I'll rush out that door and never come back!" He crossed his arms defiantly.
"Well, you've made your point…"
"I...apologize for the dramatics." He said, looking down. "But it's how I feel, truly! But, promise me something?"
"Of course!" Amelia said, leaning in.
"Promise that you'll visit me? When I'm better, and out of here, I mean." He asked shyly, looking down. "You...you are my first friend-the only one I remember!"
An expression of horror came on his face as a realization dawned on him.
"Oh dear, do you think I have friends I forgot? Do you think they are terribly worried?"
"I can't say, I'm sorry." Amelia put a hand on his shoulder. "No matter what, you still have me, right?"
"Of course! It's no matter. I'll make oodles of new friends, I'm certain!" He said, smiling at her with determination.
Amelia skipped down the stairs as she left. Well, the patient hated the Choir's food. Poor thing probably had no memory of good food! Well, she would have to bring him something next time.
Amelia neatly dodged a wayward board left on the steps, noticing a hole being carved in the old stone walls of the tower, being supervised by Ludwig and a man she did not quite recognize. Tall and lanky, the old man seemed to loom over the two carvers and Ludwig himself. Granted, after meeting Logarius, Amelia was certain that he was simply a very tall man, rather than a Pthumerian.
"Sir Ludwig!" She called, making her way over. A chunk of rock was dislodged with a shower of dust, revealing an overgrown, undeveloped hill on the other side. Ludwig quickly jumped in front of Amelia as a small shower of shones hit the floor as the carvers continued. The old stranger nodded approvingly at the work, taking no heed of Amelia.
"Careful Lass, don't want you getting hurt. Having a heavy rock hit one on the foot is no fun, and I know that from experience." Ludwig said, smiling down at Amelia.
"Ludwig, who's that?" Amelia asked, looking at the old man. He was standing with his back to Ludwig and Amelia, not paying them any attention.
"Oh. That there is the hunter Gehrman. His idea was to build a workshop outside the tower's stairs. You know, for some extra space, and so the Upper Cathedral ward can remain accessible. That little old garden on the hill has been long abandoned, so it's a perfect spot for a workshop."
"He's a hunter?' Amelia asked. Ludwig nodded.
"Well, a Hunter hunts beasts, so the warriors that fight beasts should be thusly named Hunters. Of course, we aren't hunting game like deer and such. I fear the bloodlicking beasts from Cainhurst are just the start of a worse trend."
The carvers fully broke through the old wall, letting sunlight stream into the tower. Gehrman stepped through the new, crude door frame.
"The workshop will go up there, on the hill." He instructed the workers. Amelia peeked through the hole, seeing the densely overgrown garden. Small stone paths crisscrossed the hill, mounds of white and yellow wild flowers growing between.
"What about the garden? Seems an awful shame to get rid of it." Ludwig remarked, joining him in the garden. He plucked one of the yellow flowers, offering it to Amelia. She took it, smiling.
Gehrman surveyed the land, face unreadable in the shadow cast by his top hat. He was old, far older than Ludwig, who was in the midst of middle age, his narrow face heavily lined and framed by mid length, stringy white hair.
"We'll only cut it back. We just need a workshop for tools." He said, nodding.
"Ah, we can make more brilliant weapons like your burial blade." Ludwig said approvingly. Gehrman nodded.
"It's an incredible tool. Going from a blade to a full scythe in the blink of an eye...perhaps we could manage that for a hammer? Perhaps a dagger to a sword?" Ludwig pondered.
"I'm certain we can. Our workshop will make Logarius's little passion project look like a toy box." Gehrman said, a smirk forming on his lined face.
"Suppose we ought to get the Executioners in on this. They are the only battle trained sect of the Church, and the Vilebloods know better than to leave Cainhurst these days." Ludwig said, stroking his stubbly chin. "Of course, I had some different ideas for recruitment."
"Which would be?" Gehrman asked. Amelia looked from man to man, listening intently. This was the future of the church, she felt.
"The good people of Yharnam, of course. It's their duty to protect their home from monsters, yes? Might cut down on the crime, too, if they are more focused on monsters then robbing and killing each other." Ludwig joked.
"What a city." Gehrman sighed. "You think you could whip them into shape?"
"Of course Ludwig can! The people love him, he's a hero!" Amelia piped up. Ludwig smiled humbly, rubbing the back of his head. Gehrman looked down at Amelia as if he just noticed her.
' I'm probably too short for him to see me down here .' Amelia thought, frowning.
"I did make a commanding rank in the army." Ludwig said. "Outfit them with armor, arm them with our own Workshop's weapons, a bit of discipline and we will have a fighting force in no time."
"If only it were that simple." Gehrman remarked.
"Well, you continue taking on apprentices, and I'll start recruiting all who are fit to join the hunt." Ludwig said. "Maria shows great promise."
"Indeed." Gehrman said, his voice sounding strange. Amelia felt a chill.
'Especially for a Cainhurst defector! Very strange she would want to help the Church." Ludwig added.
"She's quite unique. You could not find another woman like her anywhere." Gehrman gazed off into the distance. Ludwig smiled uncomfortably.
"Well, Amelia. Let's get you home, right?" Ludwig said, shooing Amelia back through the opening. "I'll meet with you later, Gehrman."
"Of course, take care." Gehrman motioned the builders back over.
"Told you, he's a bit odd. Quite the sight when he's cutting down beasts." Ludwig said, leading the way down. He waved at the dweller, before realizing his mistake and greeting him instead. The Dweller smiled and waved back.
"How's your friend doing, Is he talking yet?"
"Yes, lots! He's doing well, but he hates the Choir's food."
"Well, that won't do. If I get a moment to bake, I'll try making him something." Ludwig said. "Watch that puddle, now."
Amelia deftly dodged the puddle pooling between two cobblestones.
"Do you think the beasts will get worse?"
"I know they will. Gerhman thinks so too." Ludwig sighed. "I was hoping to be happily retired. Poor old Moonbright isn't happy about going back to being a warhorse. Suppose I'm not, either."
Ludwig and Amelia both looked up to Vicar Laurence standing in the doorway of the cathedral, smiling at them both.
"However, it's worth it to protect the ones I love." Ludwig said, quickening his pace. "Hello, my Vicar."
"Hello, my Knight." Laurence replied, pecking Ludwig on the cheek. "And hello Amelia!" Laurence embraced her, Amelia laughing happily. "Well, our busy schedules have lined up. We can finally have that dinner together that you promised me, Ludwig." Laurence said, winking at the man.
The full moon was nearly perfectly aligned with his window. Even with the curtains pulled closed, the light from it seemed to illuminate his room brightly. The boy pulled his head back under the pillow, trying to block out the ghastly noise from outside.
" Maledictus ." A high, female voice intoned. He plugged his ears, but the chanting continued.
" Pater do si donas ." A chorus of voices replied.
" Inficimur ." She sang.
" Argentum aquae in tenebris ." Came the eerie response. He thrashed about under the sheets, praying they would stop.
This had gone on for the last few days. When he had first been able to walk without support, he had tried the door knob that very night. It had been tightly locked. There was no way he could have sneaked past the milling and bustling Choir during the day, and even then, where would he go? He had no idea where Amelia lived. Perhaps he could make his unsteady way to the Cathedral he stared at every day from the window, but they might take him back.
On particularly desperate nights, he had slammed his fists as hard as he could against the door, weakly begging to be let out. He had even wept, something which he could never tell Amelia.
There had never been a response, and none of the Choir seemed to have noticed this, or more likely, did not care. He had told Amelia about the Choir's apathy towards him, and she tried to help, but things only seemed to get worse.
When he had told her about the sounds at night, she had seemed excited that he was witness to a holy ritual. Would she feel the same, if she was here, trembling under thin blankets while eerie voices chanted nonsense outside.
"Sanguine!" Came the roar of voices. "Sanguine!"
Blessed silence ensued afterwards. Breathing hard, the boy slowly peaked out of the sheets, brushing his sweaty blonde hair out of his eyes. For a moment, possibly a trick of the light, the blinding moonlight appeared red, then dimmed, scaring him further. Footsteps sounded down the hall.
"Another failure." A voice remarked.
"Micolash said that the ritual would work." Someone replied. "Of course, I wouldn't put it past the bastard to scramble the instructions so we cannot get results."
"I'm sick of working with Mensis." The first voice hissed. "Hoarding what they learn, only giving us scraps of their findings, while we, The Choir, freely share with them. They do not respect our shared heritage as inheritors of Byrgenwerth."
"They don't have to deal with charity cases, either."
He slunk back under the blankets, fearful. The shadows of the two scholar's feet were visible from under the door.
"Quiet. The child might hear."
"Are you kidding? He's probably fast asleep."
"Interesting case, huh? Never reversed Ashen Blood in that late a stage, especially in one so young, and the whelp is downright thriving. Getting a bit sassy though. I'm too busy to say good morning to every brat I meet."
"Do you think he'd be suitable for the Orphanage?" Came the response. The boy shuddered.
Please, please no. Please, let him just escape this awful place.
"No. Too many variables."
"Oh, yeah. With him being foreign and all. Heavens knows where he's been."
"Right. If Yharnam is to ascend, we don't want any damn outsiders making contact with The Great Ones first, right?"
Both voices broke into laughter as they walked away. The boy breathed a sigh, and curled up around the pillow, trying to slow his racing heartbeat.
Another stormy day. Amelia double checked her basket, feeling doubly burdened by both it and her satchel of books and notes.
Ludwig had found time to bake. Still lamenting his stolen retirement, Ludwig still had time to engage in some of the domestic activities he had come to enjoy in his duties as a Healing Church monk. Strudel was a delicacy from his homeland, a tiny city state to the west, over the mountains.
Things were still quite busy on the stairs. More workmen bustled about, setting up racks, putting up work tables. Amelia poked her head through the hole she saw carved yesterday.
The garden remained mostly untouched, the yellow and white flowers blowing this way and that in the slowly strengthening breeze. The sky was cloudy and turbulent, threatening a storm like the day before.
On the top of the small hill stood Gehrman, looking skyward. Unbothered by the impending rain, his stringy white hair fluttered around his lined face. Amelia could see his lips moving slightly, as if he were speaking to someone up above on an invisible, lofty balcony.
A distant roll of thunder sounded. Gehrman did not jump, as Amelia did, or even seem to hear it. He slowly turned, looking at the new doorway.
Amelia jumped out of sight, nearly spilling her basket and dropping her books. She scuttled up the stairs, unsure of what she just saw.
Something was wrong.
While every time she had ascended the steps, the Choir had been busy, yes, milling about, but now, there was tangible excitement in the air. Amelia stood there, waiting on the top of the stairs as the white robed scholars rushed around her, excitedly speaking to each other, and none paying any mind to the increasingly frustrated girl swinging her basket to and fro. She glared at the large door at the end of the hallway leading to the balcony, where a large number of students had congregated, chatting. Why would no one give her the time of day?
Finally, a lone scholar walked briskly past, carrying an urn. Amelia was not going to let the opportunity slide.
"Excuse me! Ma'am!" She called, trotting after her down the steps. The woman did not even turn her head to look back.
"Miss, I am sent here by the Vicar himself!"
The woman paused mid step, slowly turning around to face Amelia. Amelia glanced at the urn. The lid twitched slightly, like a pot about to boil over.
"Ah. The Vicar's student. What are you here for, again?" She said, frowning sourly. A terrible sucking noise emitted from the urn.
"I am here to see my friend-the boy in the clinic?" Amelia tried.
"Oh. Well. I'm afraid you can't see the kid today. He's been blessed, you see."
"Blessed? What does that mean?" Amelia asked, confused and worried.
"As a nun in training, you ought to know. He's got healing blood now, the blood test this morning confirmed it. Guess all that blood treatment made him a saint." The Choir member smiled mirthlessly, and slammed the lid back down on the urn as it began to rise. Black ooze began to leak out from under the lid.
"That's wonderful!" Amelia said, smiling. "I ought to go congratulate him-"
"No. He's not to be seen by anyone. Not until the ceremony makes it all official. Forgive me. I have to go back to studying the gifts of the Cosmos in great detail. Apologies." She said, turning on her heel and walking off, leaving a trail of black spots as the urn continued to leak. They spread on the black and white tiles like ink blotted on paper. Amelia stepped back, lest her pristine leather boots be stained.
"Very rude!" Amelia exclaimed as she was sure the Choir member was out of earshot. "And rather messy." Well, she was not going to be swayed by one apathetic Choir member. Surely, as a Blood Saint to be herself, she could visit the patient, yes?
As soon as she took one step down the hall towards the boy's room, she was instantly seized by another Choir Scholar.
"Sorry, miss. Your friend is busy undergoing tests." He said, pulling her back by the shoulders.
"Hey! Let me go!" Amelia yelped, kicking her legs.
"We are testing. You are an uncertain variable that may disturb our results." He continued, carrying her like a sack of potatoes towards the door.
"Please, just let me see him!" Amelia demanded, only to be met with stubborn silence as the man practically tossed her outside on the bridge by the scruff like an unruly cat.
Unhurt except for bruised pride, Amelia huffed angrily, putting her hands on her hips. What a terrible way to treat someone!
As she made her furious way downstairs, she began to mull over what she just learned. If her friend was found to be a blood saint, that would mean he would be taken in by the Church, just as she was. How wonderful! Perhaps he could also study under Vicar Laurence, just like her!
Amelia smiled, her anger fading. Of course, she would alert the Vicar of the Choir's awful behavior, but now she was imagining a brighter future. Her friend would be given a name, and an important, integral role to the church, just like she had! Perhaps, if The Vicar took him in, he could be like a brother to her!
The day that he had hoped for, wished for, prayed for, had finally come. He was finally able to leave the miserable room and go outside.
It had all started the day after the rainstorm. Getting his blood drawn had become a regular occurence. It hardly bothered him anymore, but this time, a few minutes afterwards, he heard a great excitement from outside his door. He had immediately hidden under the sheets, but strong arms had thrown off the covers and pulled him out, and thus began a terrible, terrible day of tests, blood drawn again and again, all under the vast chandelier in the large lobby.
He heard a commotion while surrounded by curious choir members, heard Amelia's voice. He tried calling back to her, but his voice was still too weak to make it, and he was left alone with the cold, inhuman Choir.
The next day had been better, he had been left alone as usual. After being given the usual unpalatable breakfast, things took a turn for the worse. Two Choir Scholars had entered the room, beckoning for him to come with them. Reluctant, but fearful, he had made his trembling way towards them.
After being flanked by the two imposing white robed Scholars, he had been escorted quickly, far, far too quickly for his still weak legs and lungs, down endless, winding stairs bustling with men milling about with hammers, saws, and other tools. When he began to wheeze from the new exertion, his lungs on fire, one of the robed Scholars roughly picked him up, continuing without a word.
"Where are you taking me?" He had rasped.
"The Vicar wants to see you." The man carrying him said. A few concerned faces rushed past, but the boy found himself unable to focus his eyes. The world seemed to swim and twist in his vision.
For the first time he could recall, sunlight warmed his cheeks as they left the stone Chapel. He blinked in the light, his eyes unused to the radiance. Finally, he was outside, but at the cost of being taken by two of his accursed captors.
He shut his eyes, waiting for them to reach their destination and leave him be.
"Vicar Laurence!" The boy found himself rudely deposited on the ground in a cozy looking office awash with sunlight. Clutching his swirling head, he looked up to see a skeletal, bespectacled man seated at an ornate wooden desk, carved with similar shapes as the statues that had whizzed past as he was roughly carted here.
The man, who he assumed was Vicar Laurence stood, examining him closely. He drew back with fright under the man's sharp gaze. Amelia always talked about Laurence as if he was nice, so why did he seem so cold?
"I believe you said he was fully healed."
"Yes, but the stains remain for a time after exposure. They will fade within a few months." A scholar responded. The boy put a hand to his own cheeks. He had not been allowed a mirror, but he knew he had terrible stains from his illness. How bad were they?
"I suppose the sunlight highlights their appearance." The Vicar said. "You may leave. I would like to talk to the prospective Blood Saint."
The Scholars bowed and left, shutting the door behind them. The boy hated them both immensely, but was even more afraid in their absence. He looked around for an exit, despite knowing very well he was still too weak to walk very far.
The Vicar sat back down, smiling.
"I must congratulate you. Blood Saints are a rare thing indeed." He said, steepling his fingers. "Has Amelia told you about her duties."
The boy nodded shallowly. If he played along, maybe he would be allowed to leave.
"You will become an important part of the Church. Blood Saints like yourself are our literal lifeblood. Without them, we would not have communion. The Old Blood needs time to replenish in the tombs, but with Saints, we have our own source, created daily within their veins."
Laurence waited for a response, and frowned slightly when the boy stayed silent. He continued anyway.
"Of course, no one is forcing you to take on a very weighty and sacred task, but if you do, you will have a home, life's necessities, and a purpose." Laurence said. "You already have a position secured. Before I even heard of your blessing, the next Blood Saint to be found had already been promised to a sect of the Church."
The boy nodded shallowly.
"So, what do you say? You will not need to give blood until you are older, but you will be taken care of, educated, and be part of Mankind's ascension."
Had our unfortunate hero been somewhat older, he would have realized, as we do, how terribly unfair of a question this is to ask of a mere child. Laurence was not playing fair.
The boy pondered. Amelia was a blood saint, and she seemed happy enough. If he accepted, would he be able to see her every day? That would be wonderful! Of course, the idea of giving his blood when he was earlier scared him, but he was quite familiar with needles by this point from the Choir healing him.
It would be a sacrifice, just like The Knight that Shined, and a sacrifice with his best and only friend would not be so bad.
"Yes." he rasped. "I will become a Blood Saint."
Laurence had asked for the Choir to let him meet with the prospective Blood Saint before the ceremony, as was usual. Laurence believed he had worked out any guilt from the poisoning. It had to be done, it was a mere mistake, just one misstep in man's ascent.
Until he saw the wan, scared face peeking between the two Scholar's robes, the sunlight from his office window revealed the boy's grey clouded eyes and stained cheeks. Laurence had always taken a hands off approach to trying to forward the church, but now, the consequences of his actions stood before him, frozen between two strangers.
He remembered a foriegn couple, from the same western country as Ludwig, who had attended communion. Laurence tried not to mix with outsiders, but they had been honestly interested in the Holy Blood, and foriegn coin was as good as Native, and their pockets were deep. They had brought their boy along, an only child who had curiously taken everything in silently, the same boy that had stood before him, terrified and frozen.
He himself had wrenched away the child's parents, poisoned them all, and carelessly threw away their son's true name due to carelessness.
He had made up for it, had he not? Now the boy would be privileged to help bring mankind closer to ascension! It was a shame his parents had to die, but well, he was hardly missing them now, was he? The ache in the Vicar's heart and throat would fade, certainly. He thanked Oedon that this one was promised to be stationed far away in the woods, out of his sight.
It was a shame that he and Amelia had grown so close, but she had other friends. He he not been a product of his mistake, Laurence would have happily taken him in, but the guilt would hold Laurence, and Humanity back from use of the Blood.
Besides, the boy would be in good hands.
He pushed the shame to the back of his mind as he shook the boy's hand, congratulating and thanking him for agreeing to become a Blood Saint.
"Do you have any preferences for your new name?" Laurence asked. The boy had only stared at the carpet.
Amelia stood beside Laurence before the altar, surveying the church members who had gathered for the Sainting ceremony. Thankfully for her friend, only the Clergy of the Healing Church, as well as a few curious Choir members were present, leaving the pews in the Cathedral far from full.
The organist played a hymn. Laurence glanced down at her, smiling reassuringly. He looked every inch the pious, noble Vicar, practically glowing in his ornate white robes, elegantly embroidered and adorned with gleaming silver thread. The only spot of color was the golden pendant around his neck.
'This will be your duty someday, Amelia', he had told her that morning, as he carefully adjusted the collar of her ceremonial robe with his skeletal fingers. 'Someday, you will Saint those blessed with healing blood, just like yourself. You will be a provider of Communion of your own blood, achieving what I could not.'
Amelia stood beside her teacher, feeling the weight of responsibility on her shoulders, and worry for the boy in her heart. She had not seen him since that rainy day, making her worry in the few days past. When her blood was found to have been holy, her ceremony had been quite overwhelming, and she had the support of the Vicar. He had no one but her. Thank heavens she was able to shadow Vicar Laurence for this holy task!
A cough from one of the front pews startled Amelia, and she looked towards the source of the noise. An unfamiliar man in the Byrgenwerth uniform grinned at her, his eyes sunken and bagged, his face almost as gaunt as the Vicar's. She looked up at the Vicar, who rolled his eyes.
"Of all times, Micolash shows up." Laurence grumbled.
The organ started up once more, getting Amelia's attention. A side door in the cathedral opened, a White robed nun leading her friend, who was now similarly dressed as she was. All white robes, topped by a fluttering holy shawl. He was guided to the altar by a Choir member, his face pale.
The Vicar began to recite the holy words as the boy approached, raising a jewel encrusted chalice in his pale left hand. The atmosphere in the Cathedral became tense, rippling with energy.
"Sanguine sancta." He intoned, ending the prayer. The Organ rose in intensity. Amelia smiled at her friend to reassure him as he approached and stood before Vicar Laurence. The Choir scholar drew back, vanishing among the pews..
"As a vessel of the Holy Blood, the Blood of Holy Oedon, you are to be Sainted." Vicar Laurence said, holding the chalice above the boy's head. Frozen, perhaps from fear, perhaps in awe of the holy ritual he was apart of, the boy stood stock still, gazing up at the bottom of the chalice that hovered above him. He knelt, never breaking his gaze from the sacred cup.
"Through this blood, you shall be reborn." The Vicar slowly tipped the glass, pouring the contents onto the boy's head, turning his blonde hair a dark red, the color of the Holy Blood. The sweet aroma of it filled the room as it dripped down his face and on the white holy robes, the boy looking started by the proceedings. The organist stopped playing, leaving a gap of silence.
"Rise, Alfred, Blood Saint of the Healing Church." Rise he did, to the solemn clapping of those in attendance. Alfred turned to the audience, face blank from fear and confusion.
The moment that the decorum broke, and the Church members began to leave the chapel, Amelia rushed towards Alfred to hug him tightly, never minding the blood.
Laurence had left rather quickly, joining the other clergy in the square to speak about important matters, no doubt. Ludwig smiled and waved at Amelia as he left to join the rest.
"I'm so proud of you!" Amelia cheered. He laughed nervously, hugging her back.
"Did you have to go through that too? They told me to kneel, but I did not have the slightest idea he would pour it on me!" He said, wiping his blood soaked hair out of his eyes.
"Sorry, I wanted to tell you everything, but they told me I couldn't see you!" Amelia apologized. "The Choir threw me out. What do you think of your new name?" She asked.
Alfred pondered hard, trying to wipe off the blood on his cheek with his sleeve.
"I'm not sure, but I suppose it's mine now. Hm...Alfred. Does it sound heroic?" He asked.
"Very much so, I think!" Amelia said smiling. She offered him her handkerchief, which he happily accepted, dabbing at his face.
"WIll we be able to see each other still? Since I'm a blood saint now, too?" Alfred asked. The blood was starting to dry around his forehead, despite his efforts.
"I can't see why not-" Amelia started, as a long shadow fell over them both. Both children looked upwards to see the towering form of Logarius, looming above them.
"So, you are the Blood Saint promised to the Executioners."
Notes: Oh boy don't you love Morally grey characters? Or characters that think they are doing right when they are very, very wrong. **** you Laurence. I wouldn't trust you in charge of a houseplant, let alone a church. Fear the old blood, you fool.
I thought I might as well deliver on some Ludwig/Laurence, because they are basically Amelia's gay, morally questionable fathers. Anyway I got to Ludwig in the DLC and that fight was very hard. And heartbreaking. Sorry Ludwig. The Old Hunters dlc also gave me some more information on the Church before it went terribly horribly wrong(er). At the moment, Gehrman and Ludwig are starting up the Old Hunters, building the workshop secret area. And hooray, Alfred got his name! I'm so happy because that makes writing MUCH easier.
I did not want to write about Gehrman because he is very gross. The more I learn about him and Maria the more I want to kill him in every play through, but unfortunately, I have to because I decided this would be as much a World Building/making sense of lore scraps fic as it would be an Alfred fic. As well as an Au fic. Why do I do this to myself
Well, we will be leaving the machinations of Ludwig, Yharnam's lovable horseman to be and Ghernam, the first incel, as Logarius is here to ruin everything. Hopefully I'll get out chapter 4 sooner.
At a dear friend's request, Alfred is not the Cainhurst baby, as his parents were nice, kind, nobody foreigners with cash, which is a bad thing to be in Yharnam. Have I mentioned Laurence is awful.