The Vision
Delving further into the matter, Bishop Philippe unveiled more of Adelwin's circumstances.
"Even if you were to journey to Kievskaya, connecting with Adelwin wouldn't be easy. He's embarked on a covert mission, moving from door to door to propagate the teachings of Sanctus discreetly."
Adelwin's nomadic mission was explained. "He lacks a fixed abode. Maintaining an elusive identity demands him to remain in constant motion, from one location to the next."
Navigating the labyrinth of finding a particular person was a task fraught with challenges, and Fabian was all too familiar with the intricacies involved.
So, seeking Adelwin within the enemy's kingdom was not an option, yet returning empty-handed was equally unfeasible. Thus, he stood at a crossroads, driven by a determination to unearth a solution.
Undeterred, Fabian shifted his strategy, opting to glean information about Tusshia from alternative sources.
The backdrop of Valoisia, predominantly following the Reformed Sanctus doctrine, offered an avenue. Here, the mention of Tusshia didn't stir the same adverse reactions it might in Reichwein.
Within the folds of Reformed Sanctus belief, Tusshia held significance in the religion's history, though she wasn't hailed as a Saint.
Interestingly, Valoisia held an affinity for magic—a belief that clung on even as the practice waned. Thus, introducing the name Tusshia into conversation held the promise of being less disruptive than in other circles.
Bishop Philippe offered a new path. A vicar named Jean-Michel was highlighted, a figure who bore the divine gift of vision. With an encouraging nod, the bishop extended his proposal.
"Jean-Michel possesses the blessings of the Saints, often receiving visions. If you seek answers, Your Grace, he might offer insight. Would you be interested in meeting him?"
The thread of hope was being woven anew, and with a purposeful smile, Fabian responded, "I would be grateful for the opportunity to consult with him. Please, lead the way."
As they walked through the cathedral's corridors, a sense of familiarity enveloped Fabian, reminiscent of Reichwein. The only distinct contrast was in the faces of the congregants.
While the churches in Reichwein exuded an air of pride among their attendees, the Valoisia cathedral resonated with a different aura—one of graciousness and inclusivity.
Their steps carried them deeper into the cathedral's recesses, away from the bustling crowd. Here, tranquility held sway, and the hush was nearly palpable.
Encircling a square inner yard were a series of doors, and toward one of them, Bishop Philippe led the way.
His voice carried insight as he shared, "Jean-Michel, the ascetic vicar we seek, maintains a solitary existence. His connection with the believers is through silent prayer and contemplation."
Within the Sanctus tradition, ascetics withdrew into seclusion within their chambers, dedicating months or even years to their chosen path. These reclusive figures emerged only to retrieve their meals, set outside their doors, before returning to their private devotion.
"And what is the focus of his prayers?" he inquired.
A glimmer of pride adorned Bishop Philippe's expression, akin to a father speaking of his child's achievements.
"He prays for kindness," the bishop revealed. "Endowed with the gift of visions, he bears witness to the darkness that resides within humanity. In response, his prayers are dedicated to nurturing kindness within every heart."
Bishop Philippe approached a specific door, his knuckles rapping against the aged wood. "Jean-Michel, it's Philippe. Someone requires your guidance. Could you spare a moment?"
A subtle shuffle of movement resonated from within, followed by the door's gradual creaking open.
The door revealed a young man, appearing to be in his twenties, who stood in their midst. Hooded eyes lent him an air of gentleness, while his ears seemed to demand attention—an observation that spurred Fabian's curiosity.
Could this young man's distinct feature, those conspicuously large ears, symbolize a lifelong devotion to hearing the world's entreaties? The whimsical thought brought a smile to Fabian's lips as he recognized the intricate design that the Saints wove into their people's lives.
Bishop Philippe introduced the two. "Allow me to present Duke Fabian of the Reichwein Kingdom. He has journeyed from distant lands, seeking one who possesses knowledge of Tusshia."
Jean-Michel's gaze lingered upon Fabian's countenance, a perceptive stillness emanating from his hooded eyes. He addressed Fabian directly, his demeanor stoic.
"She has returned now, so what holds you back from uniting in marriage?"
Though the red-haired ascetic didn't utter her name, Fabian discerned the subject of their conversation without a shadow of a doubt.
The ascetic's ability to unravel the threads of Fabian's life in a single look left him surprised. Any trace of skepticism regarding Jean-Michel's vision was promptly erased at that moment.
Fabian found himself facing an intuitive insight that seemed almost mystical. "I'm not yet prepared," Fabian responded, his words sincere.
The years following Yohana's disappearance had been dominated by Fabian's relentless pursuit to reunite with her. The consuming mission left him with little opportunity to acquaint himself with young women, despite numerous proposals that crossed his path.
"You need to believe that you deserve the love you received from her just as much as she deserves yours," Jean-Michel's affirmation struck a chord deep within Fabian, resonating through his being.
It was a sentiment he had been unable to admit to himself, an unspoken acknowledgment of a lingering sense of defeat. This internal struggle, which he had pushed down in an effort to rob it of power, was now laid bare.
As memories surged, Fabian was transported to the moment he learned of his biological mother's death. Doubts had surged forth: Was her passing somehow his responsibility? Would his father come to resent him?
Tragedy followed in relentless succession, each wave crashing upon Fabian's life with little reprieve. Yohana's abduction was swiftly shadowed by Bianka's demise, a cruel pairing that multiplied the burden upon Fabian's shoulders.
The weight of their absence pressed upon him, a reminder of his perceived inadequacy. The ache of powerlessness gnawed at him. If only his strength had been sufficient to shield Yohana, perhaps Bianka's life needn't have been forfeited in the search for her.
His soul burned with a fierce disdain for his own vulnerability—a driving force that fueled his relentless training, a quest to fortify himself against the tides of fate and protect those he held dearest.
Yet, even amidst his resolute pursuit of strength, life continued its capricious dance. Once again, a cherished figure was stolen from his embrace.
His father, his robust rock, yielded to the darkness of his sorrow following Bianka's departure. In the recesses of Fabian's mind lingered unspoken questions—had he located Yohana sooner, would his father still draw breath? Could he have inspired a renewed sense of hope, coaxing his father into a life reclaimed from despair?
As the weight of these memories and regrets bore down, Bishop Philippe displayed his understanding, his intuition guiding him to step aside.
"Your Grace, I shall leave you in conversation. Speak freely with Jean-Michel," his words held an unspoken empathy, a recognition of the gravity of the situation.
"Thank you," Fabian said.
Left alone in the chamber with Jean-Michel, Fabian's attention turned fully to the ascetic, awaiting the words that held the promise of a solution.
Jean-Michel's voice held a depth of empathy as he spoke, his words casting shadows across the room.
"The weight of this curse," he began, his tone a canvas of somber comprehension, "should never have been laid upon anyone's shoulders. Yet, a wounded soul chose to ensnare your beloved sister, subjecting her to its malevolence—not just once, but thrice."