Ostium: Chapter 6

[melangette]

Date: XX/XX/XXX Reporting on: Cachetteen Grove Time: XX:XX xx

Father Aleron:
I can understand Cachetteen Grove had the first portal. However, let me start at the beginning.

Marianela and I traveled using the thin path located in the Fields of Eve. Luckily, neither of us accidentally off the path, therefore arrived at the destined forest unharmed. Briefly after resting, I sensed an Ostium portal opening and we ran to the scene.

There stood a type of demon that doesn’t appear in Pius-Lues, as far as I know. Its general features were like the ones we know - dark hued, matted fur, the elongated pale brown horns and white, blank eyes. However, instead of standing on its two hind legs, this one was like a dog. It stood on all fours, and was much bigger than the ones we typically see. We were able to defeat it without much delay, and made our way over to the Grove.

Cachetteen Grove is indeed a mystical place. Marianela and I reached our destination only a brief number of minutes before nightfall. Though the Grove itself is magical and very peaceful, the trouble does not lay there but near there. Upon inspection, we found a cave in which we explored. Inside contained something I thought I would never see outside the Fields of Eve.

Ladybugs decorated the interior cavern. It seemed as if it was a miniature Fields of Eve in there, Father. I do not understand why this came to be at all. But the moment I took a step further, the ladybugs fled and a demon appeared in their disappearing wake. This one was almost twice the size as the one prior, although they were of the same class.

Our battle with the demon was a harsh one, I regret to say. Marianela and I suffered casualties - she had broken her leg when it flung her across the cavern. Luckily she was able to conjure up a tourniquet, and I hope she’ll be okay. I, on the other hand, have a broken left arm, in which Mary has patched up temporarily for me. My other arm has a long gash on it, to which is now bandaged, however I have multiple burn wounds as well.

We spent another day inspecting around the Grove, but we found nothing. This cave requires further inspection I believe, however, though with a much larger, better equipped group. On our third day, we will set out in the morning to return to Pius-Lues. The journey will be a long and hard one, however, for Mary has a broken leg. I hope that we should reach it by nightfall.

May God be With You,
Saint Éclair

Éclair was undoubtedly very glad to be back at Pius-Lues. The moment she and Marianela had stepped foot back in the town they collapsed against each other on the cobblestone streets, passing out almost instantaneously. A wandering bystander had found them and told the Church, whereupon some people were brought over to carry them back. When they arrived back at the Church, Father Aleron ran to see them immediately, only to draw back in grim surprise at their wounds.

He then proceeded to send for the only doctor in town, who swiftly made his way over to the Church. Éclair and Marianela were both laid out on tables in the mess hall - they didn’t have any other tables long and sturdy enough to support the two girls. After the doctor did his job inspecting them, he promptly treated their wounds. A salve was rubbed over Éclair’s burns, a proper cast for Mary’s leg, new bandages for their cuts, and a sling for Éclair’s arm. However, the doctor found something somewhat remarkable.

“Excuse me, Father Aleron?” The doctor was a shorter, stouter man the priest however with the same kind of peppery black-white-and-grey quality hair, rectangular no-frame glasses, and a small moustache. He looked quite nervous.

“Yes, Doctor?” Father turned and faced the shorter man like any man of grace would. “Is there a problem?”

“A problem? No, no, Saint Éclair is perfectly fine. In fact, a little too perfectly fine, if you ask me, this is certainly unnatural.”

His fidgety speech riddled Father Aleron for a moment. “What is unnatural?” At this, the Doctor cleared his throat noisily.

“Erm, well, that is...she has indeed recovered, however her arm seems to be um...what you call, healing itself...?”

Father Aleron looked at him as if he just announced he was Jesus Christ. “E-excuse me, Doctor...? What do you mean, healing itself?”

“I-I mean exactly what I say, Father...when I first inspected her, parts of her bone were just barely hinting out of her skin. When I turned to get the, er, scalpel, so I could ease them back in, I suppose that she must have, ah...healed herself. Because I couldn’t find any more bones out of her skin when I turned back.”

“Are you sure you didn’t just imagine it?” The priest’s eyebrows creased in concern.

“I’m fairly sure, I even felt them there when I inspected her.” The doctor held his arms behind his back as he thought. “I suppose God is with her.”

Absently, Father Aleron nodded. “Indeed, I suppose she must be.”

When the saint awoke, she found herself temporarily blinded by the use of electrical lights, strung about around her like a Christmas decoration. She was still lying on the mess hall dining tables, however, but there was nobody around. Curiously, she made her way off the table and sat down on the benches next to it before she dared recollect her thoughts.

Let’s see, she thought. Marianela made our way back from Cachetteen Grove and passed out in Pius-Lues. I’m guessing somebody found us and took us back here... she glanced around the room. And then, our wounds were treated.

Remembering that, she realized that she felt no soreness at all. Concerned, she looked at her left arm to be very staggered at what she saw - or didn’t see. It was almost like new; she flexed it, and much to her confused emotions, it responded perfectly. As if it was never hurt at all.
“Éclair.” The saint jumped and whirled around to see Seraphim standing there. She had not talked to this particular person so much, so the meeting was awkward.

“Oh, h-hello, Seraphim...” She said, her heart pit-pattering like a jackrabbit in her chest. “What are you doing out here so late?”
He scoffed. “Watching you, of course. Someone has to watch the injured patients.”

Éclair laughed nervously. “Oh. Right.” An awkward silence pervaded them as Seraphim, with his blinded eyes seemingly watched her every move. The saint shifted uncomfortably, and the man spoke again.

“You have many of us puzzled, Saint Éclair.” He took a seat at the opposing bench.

“I do?” Éclair blinked. Is it my report?

“Your report has questionable content.” At this, her eyebrows furrowed.

“What is questionable? I’m sorry if I wasn’t thorough enough, if you want I can retell it again-“

“What I mean is the quality of your wounds.” He interrupted her smoothly, and she felt slightly insulted, but brushed it off.

“Yeah, they’re gone now. You guys hired a really good doctor-“

Once more he interrupted her. “The doctor did nothing.” Éclair paused and stared at him.

“What...” She started. “I don’t- I don’t get it. What do you mean, he did nothing? Didn’t he heal me?”

Seraphim scoffed again. “You are such a child. You really don’t understand what’s happening to you?” Éclair shook her head, confused.
“What are you talking about?” He sighed and shifted to a more comfortable position.

“When you were brought here, the doctor inspected your wounds but they had healed without any of his help. In your report, you said you had received multiple burns, a long gash on your right forearm, as well as broken your left arm. None of these wounds have shown any trace, except for your right forearm. There’s a scar. Now, Saint Éclair, who are you really?”

Éclair was stunned. “What...I...” Her head spun as she struggled to digest this information. “No, I don’t heal automatically. I get hurt. I’ve been hurt. I mean...” She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. “I...”

“Hold out your hand.” Seraphim instructed. “Let me see if I what I think may be right.” The saint obeyed, although hesitant.

“What are you going to do?” She asked warily, her eyes following his hands. When he took out a knife from his pocket, she froze and asked her question again, only much more panicked. “Seraphim, what are you going to do?!” He held onto her wrist tightly so that she wouldn’t move, although she was trying to.

“Hold still or it’s going to hurt more!” He instructed as he held the knife over her hand. Biting her lip, the saint obliged. The knife cut a slight line on her palm; she flinched for a moment, then he drew the blade away back to his pocket.

They watched the palm for minutes in silence, but it still bled like any normal wound. After a long while, Seraphim sighed and took a bandage from the table.

“I suppose that was a one time only thing, then.” He said as he wrapped her hand. The saint watched him quietly.

“What were you trying to see?”

Seraphim looked up at her, eyebrows raised slightly. “Hm? I saw it, alright - what I was looking for.” He released her hand once he finished bandaging it, and she held her hand tenderly in her lap for it stung.

“So?” She simply said. “What was it?”

“You aren’t a normal person, are you?” The man said, again giving the impression he was looking at her with the eyes he didn’t have. Éclair didn’t answer. “I thought as much. Because I don’t have sight, I am not deceived so easily. But if what I think is right, then we are in troubling times indeed.”

Impatiently, Éclair flipped her hair behind her and stared at Seraphim. He scoffed. “You can’t wait, can you? Haven’t you ever heard the saying, patience is a virtue?” He shook his head and said, “Well, I figure God must be with you. You are a special sort of Saint, aren’t you? I think God healed your wounds because you’ll be needed very soon for something he needs you to be your best in.”

“Is that so?” The saint mused, and Seraphim’s mouth quirked into a smile.

“Yes, I believe so. Now get back on your medical bed and back to sleep. Father Aleron will want to see you in the morning.”

When dawn awoke, stretching her long gaze over the hills and rivers of the land, part of her brilliance dove through the clear glass window panes of the mess hall and rested gently on Éclair’s eyelids. The saint woke up immediately then, rolling over from the sudden invasion of light and sitting up carefully. She rubbed her eyes, glancing around the room and surprised to see nobody, but then supposed that to be quite alright, for people had to sleep sometimes. She slid off the table then, glancing around the now illuminated room for Marianela.

She spotted her some ways away in the room, and quietly and quickly made her way over to her fellow partner. When she reached her, she saw that her leg had been treated and that she was no longer in pain. Éclair smiled.

After she was done making sure Mary was okay, she headed back to her room, creeping about. Her clothes had not been changed, she noticed, but it couldn’t be helped. It wasn’t exactly like they’d strip her down in the middle of the cafeteria. Once she headed back to her room without much delay, she slipped inside and sighed. I need a nice, long bath...

Sluggishly, she gathered up the clothes in her room and staggered out, drunkenly making her way to the bathing room. I’m guessing since nobody’s about, it must be really early in the morning... she noted. Quietly she slipped into the bathing room, locking the door behind her and peeling off her ragged clothes. Hesitantly, she removed the bandage Seraphim had applied the night before, wincing in pain as the fibers interwoven in her wound were slowly taken out, and discarded it.

The water was steaming hot as she slipped inside. It burned her skin as she sunk in the water, but the pain was also relaxing her muscles. Éclair let out a contented sigh as she leaned back in the water, and started scrubbing at her skin.

This feels so nice... she sighed. Hot baths are one of the best things...and after this, I can grab something to eat and go debrief with Father Aleron...today seems like it’ll be a nice day.

When she finished bathing, she slipped out of the tub and dried herself, trying not to drip water in every direction, and tugged her fresh clothes over herself, as well as reapplied a fresh bandage to her wound. After this, she happily trotted back to her room, feeling pretty happy about herself, disposing of her clothes in a laundry bag and falling on her bed.

She was about to doze off when a hard, familiar tapping against her window jerked her awake. Suspicious of who it might be, and also fairly certain, she rolled over and sat up, glaring out the window pane.

“Rune. What are you doing.” She sighed in an even voice, stating not questioning.

Innocently, he raised an eyebrow. “I heard you came back last night, but you were so beaten up. I figured that you would be up this morning, but you weren’t there, so I checked your room and now here I am.” His voice was muffled by the glass, and Éclair sighed, hauling herself over and shoving the window up, open.

“I’m busy today. Go bug someone else.” She said monotonously. He frowned unhappily in response.

“Why? I like hanging out with you, Éclair.” Rune smiled crookedly, and Éclair flushed, standing up.

“Don’t say weird things like that. I’m going to go eat breakfast. I have to talk to Father Aleron about my assignment afterward, so don’t come looking for me.” She snapped and shoved the window shut. Rune looked fairly surprised, but she turned away and stalked out of the room, choosing to simply ignore him.

Great. Now my happy mood is ruined. Éclair grumbled to herself as she made her way back to the mess hall. She almost didn’t recognize it when she reentered the room, despite being there a couple times for her meals; it was so much more different than from that morning.

Mary’s body had been moved; Éclair presumed probably to her room. There was now the Church’s staff and worshippers, homeless people and poor eating at the tables like they usually did, talking amongst themselves in a happy banter. I suppose they knew I would be alright in the morning, considering what they found out last night. Éclair thought to herself as she made her way through the bustling waitresses and waiters that constantly served the hungry people.

Soon she was able to snag a seat near Emilia and Fauna, two girls she hadn’t talked to very much.

“Good morning, Éclair!” Emilia greeted almost instantly, her freckled face lighting up. “I heard you’re doing well!”

I guess word travels fast around here about miracles. “Good morning to you as well, Emilia - I am indeed doing well.” The saint smiled back at her happily as a plate of food was set in front of her, accompanying a glass of water. She dug in immediately as Emilia talked.

“That’s good to hear, then! Fauna and I were just talking about how weird it was - what you found, you know. Father Aleron went through your pack and took out your journal while you and your partner, Marianela were being checked by the doctor. Or was it after? Either way, he got it and went through it.”

Emilia was talking so fast Éclair struggled to keep up. Moments after the redhead had paused, Éclair realized what she was saying.
“Oh, so Father read my journal?” Emilia bobbed her head, full of energy.

“Yes! You should have seen Capricorn’s face as Father Aleron read that one part about the demon you found!” She giggled, and Fauna smiled. I’m guessing she understood, what with the names in there and the laughing... Éclair deduced, and smiled slightly.

Fauna then leaned over and whispered something in Emilia’s ear, and her eyes widened in shock.

“Oh yeah! Fauna just reminded me - Father Aleron was very intrigued when you mentioned your wounds, because there was nothing at all! Then we overheard the doctor and him talking about how you were healing? Are you magical or something?”

Éclair gave her a weird look. “No, I’m not magical. I’m just protected by God, that’s all.” Emilia smiled at her softly.

“Of course. We all are.” She was strangely quiet after that, as Éclair sipped at her water, her plate now empty. When she drained her cup, and a young waiter took it away, she slid up and out of her seat, standing up.

“Okay, well, I’m going to see Father Aleron now. Seraphim told me that he wanted to talk to me about my journal anyways. Do you guys know where he is?”

“Garden.” Fauna spoke. Éclair looked fairly surprised that she had understood the question, but decided not to pursue the matter, and left.
Drawing out the mental image of the map in her head, Éclair slowly navigated throughout the Church. More than once she had the mental image wrong and had to backtrack, until eventually she reached her destination.

The garden was a large patch of land, situated next to a small cemetery dedicated to past Head Priests of the church. A large assortment of tall, green hedges decorated the garden, posing as a green fence to stop wanderers from stumbling on the gardenias and violets, or the hydrangeas and roses.

As Éclair stepped inside, a lovely floral scent greeted her, giving her a sense of peace. Butterflies flitted happily around her, accompanied by bees and hummingbirds as they lazily flew around the flora. A couple benches dotted the outer area of the garden, painted a shiny jet black color. Father Aleron was sitting on one of them, a hand propping his head up and a book in his other hand.

The saint slowly made her way over to him, taking her time to look at the flowers in the garden. There were so many kinds; she didn’t know the names to every single one, but she knew some.

Gladiolus, alstroemeria, lisianthus, daisy, stephanotis, Casablanca lily, anemone, amaryllis, cornflower, ixia, watsonia and scabiosa... She paused when she was up to Father Aleron. Someone long ago, someone very important...told me the names of every flower...
“Éclair,” Father Aleron greeted. “It’s good to see you.” She snapped out of her trance and smiled at the older man.

“Yes, it’s good to be back in Pius-Lues, Father.” He patted the empty spot of the bench next to him, gesturing for her to sit down, and she did so.

“Thank you very much for doing your duty in filling out the report, Éclair.” The priest started. “The matter with the demons is very troubling.”
She nodded in agreement. “Yes. It was very hard to fight them; my bullets can barely penetrate their tough skin. The only way I could defeat it was through shooting it in its mouth.”

“That’s very troubling indeed.” He mused. “I know of a gunsmith in town, however he isn’t the best. Maybe you could talk with the Pathfinders? They surely know of a better, if not legendary one in some other universe.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” She smiled politely, and there was a pause.

“There...is questionable content in your journal.” Father Aleron started to say, and Éclair’s smile turned bitter.

“Oh, yes, about the wounds; I know.” She flipped her arms so that they were bottom up, the gash on her right scarcely visible in the mid-morning sunlight. “I talked with Seraphim last night. He gave me a cut, and it didn’t heal right away - in fact, I still have it. So he thinks that God alleviated my wounds because He needs me for something soon - something important.”

“Ah, yes. He also came up to me this morning and explained what happened. I suppose that he might be right - Seraphim is a very wise young man who knows his way through some very complex situations.” He sighed and closed the journal, handing it back to Éclair. She took it, running her hand along its leather covers. “Now, I suggest you go have a talk with Ezekiel and his boys about a gunsmith. Who knows when the next Ostium will appear, right?”

Éclair smiled brightly and nodded, leaving the priest in the garden. She passed into the Church swiftly, leaving the leather-bound book on the round oak table in her room before heading back out, into the main part of Pius-Lues.

It was around noon now, and a few people were milling about. The saint saw wooden stands with green-and-white striped fabric stretched over to protect the vendors from the heat, selling fruits and vegetables to people on the street. Little pockets of people were in front of the stalls, inspecting the goods and considering what to buy for dinner or supper, or maybe even for a snack or for tomorrow. A slight smile graced the brunette’s face as she thought about how simple life must be for them compared to the hazards she faces in her own.
A breeze wafted about then, and Éclair inhaled the freshness of the air, enjoying her walk through the town when suddenly the buildings gave way and she was suddenly in the Pathfinder’s circle. Somewhat surprised, she pursed her lips and headed on over to the building they were staying at. She noticed though, that at the other end of the circular patch of dirt the skeleton of an edifice stood, all bare bones of bright wood and no walls to cover itself with. Odd, she thought. Father Aleron didn’t mention they were constructing another house.
She shrugged the idea off, however, and proceeded to knock on Ezekiel’s door. Momentarily, it swung open, revealing Alva.

“Oh, hello Éclair.” He greeted warmly. “What’s up? You need something?”

The saint couldn’t help but smile at his openness. “Yes, if you don’t mind. I’m sorry if it’d be any trouble.”

“Oh no, of course not - don’t worry about it. Come on in - we’re having dinner right now, if you want some.”

Éclair entered the house, politely declining the offer for the afternoon meal, and seated herself at the table when Alva offered. The food smelled fairly good; she presumed either Ezekiel or Alva cooked, because there was no way Rune could cook in any ways decent.

“Hey there, little Saint. What’s going on?” Rune greeted between bites of his chow. Ezekiel glared at him and smacked him sharply.

“How many times have I told you to show more respect to this young lady?! You children never listen to me anymore.” He grumbled, but then remembering his place, apologized to Éclair. “I’m sorry my grandsons have no manners in anything at all; but please, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you.” Éclair beamed courteously.

“Now,” Ezekiel said, taking a sip of his drink, “what is it that you need?”

“Well, I was talking to Father Aleron about the latest manifestation of demons, and we agreed that it wasn’t any good that my weapons aren’t doing much effect to them.” The three listening men at the table nodded, clearly paying attention. “He said that he knew a gunsmith in town, however they weren’t an expert at it. So, he recommended that I come here and ask you if any of you know a good gunsmith that could possibly take a look at my guns.”

The old man pondered over this for a while. Then, he spoke. “I do know of a handful of good gunsmiths. I used to practice shooting when I was young, you see.” He winked playfully, and Éclair smiled automatically back. “I also taught Rune and Alva how to handle a gun when they were younger; we know our way with guns fairly well, but not at a professional level. These young rascals explore the Fields of Eve more than I do, they probably know a better gunsmith than me now.”

Rune nodded enthusiastically. “I know of many great ones in all sorts of dimensions. They’re like Master Blacksmiths, they’re amazingly good.”

“He’s right. There’s one in particular we know that deals with holy weapons as well. We could take you to him right now, if you’d like.” Alva offered. Éclair smiled, feeling strangely very happy.

“Sure. That sounds good.” She said, and Ezekiel sighed in relief.

“Okay then. I’m guessing since you stopped eating, Rune, that you’re finished. You kids run along now, okay?” He said, and Rune bounded to his feet.

“Yes sir!” He almost knocked his chair over as he ran out of the room, dragging his brother and the saint after him.
Once outside, he spun around to face Éclair with a happy smile on his face. She glared daggers at him in response.

“I think I’m going to stay very close to Alva.” She said immediately, and did so by standing closely to him. Alva raised an eyebrow and stared at Rune suspiciously.

“What did you do?” He demanded. Rune did his infamous Picture of Innocence.

“Whatever are you talking about? I did nothing!” Alva rolled his eyes.

“You’re a horrible liar. Stay close to me Éclair, and hit him if he touches you.” Éclair smiled despite herself

“If you say so.” Alva then led the way straight into the field, and Éclair stuck her tongue out at Rune as he glared irritated at his brother.

There were even more ladybugs teeming all over the place on the field, if that was even remotely possible. Éclair held onto Alva’s hand, looking down at the ground and admiring the flowers and ladybugs as they walked. It wasn’t like there was much else anywhere, anyways.

Then, out of nowhere, Rune appeared in her vision and she squeaked, falling over onto the ground. Rune, on the other hand, burst out laughing.

“You’re so easy to scare! I can’t believe you fell on the ground like that!” He laughed, throwing his head back. Éclair glared at him unhappily from the ground, and Alva helped her up.

“Rune, shut up.” He barked, and continued leading Éclair onward, this time with a better grip. Rune followed them from afar, still smiling as Éclair frowned in disgust and embarrassment.

After a while, Alva paused and faced Éclair. “Okay, the world is right in front of us. You ready to go?”

“Yep.” She smiled at the blonde happily as Rune jogged up to them.

“Off we go then!” He crowed as he pushed them, causing all three of them to tumble into the world unexpectedly.