Chapter 13 - Priest in Yellow

"Visionary?" Eshent looked at the figure in an odd manner. "What do you mean by that?"

"It means nothing, young one. Nothing important, that is."

Eshent glanced down at the black book he had been given by the yellow-cloaked figure, curious.

"What is in the book?" Eshent asked him.

"It is your choice whether or not you find out. It is curiosity that kills the cat."

He frowned. "Will I die if I open the book?"

"All outcomes are always possible, this is just Fate."

The people gathering around them quickly passed them by, paying no notice to the two men obscuring their path. It was as if they remained stuck in their own world, their own time, undisturbed by the meager and paltry significances of reality. 

"Who are you? Why do you hand out these books?"

The man looked at him in an odd manner, retracting his hand before speaking in a cold, but not necessarily disparaging tone. "I am His priest. I serve Him to an adequate extent, and so I am His representative in this place." 

'He'? Isn't this in the way that a Deity would be referred to? But there are no Deities, not anymore. This is the reason that we look at the Witch-King with such reverence, as his predecessor killed them all! What kind of figure could this priest be proselytising for in order to refer to Him in such a way?

"Sir, which 'He' are you referring to? Is it not the Witch-King himself? You don't bear his colours nor his insignia…"

The man nodded. "Indeed, this isn't the case. I'm not a believer in the False King, not at all. My Lord is benevolent to all."

Eshent's eyebrow twitched instinctively. 

False King? Isn't this direct blasphemy against His Grace? No one would dare do this, not openly. Is it really the case that he has the backing of some existing Deity?

"Then, which Lord is it that you serve?"

Indeed, if it was the case that there were priests serving a Deity opposed to the Witch-King, wasn't this valuable information? If there was a party that was willing to go against such a revered figure, he could be presented with this plan of attack before it even occurred! Eshent might be rewarded, and could use the money to fund Corrin's schooling much quicker! Although, if this was equivalent to saving the Witch-King's life, perhaps some rewards far greater were in order…

The Priest in Yellow raised a crooked finger, pointing towards the black book Eshent held in his hands. "This is the direct word of our Lord. This is His scripture. It tells of His plans for the world, of its fate, of its people, His history and His significance. It tells of His feats of brilliance, of His sacrifices and His torments. He was once human as you and I were human, but He has risen above and bestows His grace upon all. I urge that you give it a read at your earliest convenience."

Eshent nodded his head in agreement. Of course, this was a lie. He had no mind to read such seditious, false tales. He was only thinking about the profit the warped truths in his hands could fetch him! 

"Well, then perhaps we shall meet again…" Eshent sheepishly smiled.

Of course, perhaps at that time, our meeting will be separated by the platform atop which you shall be executed…

"This much is Fated." The Priest in Yellow reached towards his head, pulling back his yellow hood, revealing the expression that had always been hidden by shadow. He resembled an elder, gentle figure, with a full head of grey hair that had been slicked back, and numerous wrinkles like portraiture on his face. Above it all, he was warm and inviting, and gave off the air that his entire person was akin to charity, of love and respect. 

Was this man really a Heretic?

"You will always have a place among us, little Visionary. If you ever find that you have lost your home, your life, or your way, find us. It won't be hard. As long as you have the intention, Fate will guide your path towards us." The Priest spoke in a hushed, reverent tone of voice. "This is how the Lord works, that He will guide us to benevolence. Go now, return to your siblings, they await you."

Eshent's eyes widened. 

Had he been watching me this whole time? No, he could have easily caught sight of me, I was the first to try and track him down…

Eshent shook the thought out of his head as he bid his goodbyes to the man.

The Priest in Yellow watch as Eshent sunk through the thicket of the crowd, disappearing from his sight. His smile grew wide in an inhuman manner, his eyes filled with malfeasance and madness. 

"The 'key' meets the door, and the plan festers…"

[+++]

Some time later, Eshent found his way back to Corrin and Masha, who still sat atop the bench at the side of the street, who had been caught up in the Puppeteer's performance. The performer had raised his hands into the air, glimmers of light erupting from his fingertips as they attached itself to the limbs of the little girl's father in the audience, guiding his every movement. 

The father seemed a bit perturbed, but his brave expression was in order for his daughter's enjoyment. After all, the girl was laughing wildly, clutching at her stomach as he watched her father dance. Even the crowd seemed to cheer and clap to the rhythm of music played by troubadours in the meanwhile.

Eshent hovered over his siblings, having concealed the black book in the lining of his coat. 

"Are you two having fun?" 

Masha and Corrin looked up towards him, positive energy radiating from the both of them.

"Indeed! I've never seen something quite so hilarious." Masha laughed, covering his mouth as he did so. "However, I think this might grow stale soon. Should we move along?" 

Corrin nodded in agreement. "There's far too much to do in one day, we can't waste our time idly!"

The three began walking down the street once more, generally in the direction of where Eshent had left the Priest in Yellow. He scanned the crowd for the presence of the individual, but could not spot even a glimpse of the odd brightly coloured figures. It was as if they had vanished into thin air! More than that, he couldn't see anyone holding the black booklets that the Priests had been handing out to people, even though he had seen them give away many such items...

What a strange occurrence... Eshent sighed, fishing around in his pockets before procuring a small round coin, not a piece of currency, but a remembrance of his past experiences. Like the silver plates they had stolen, this bronze coin bore the insignia of the Summerrich family. The three points of the triangle surrounding the round-bottomed flask represented three points of the Summerrich Nobles, their identity and their beliefs. The first top-most point represented the innate success of human innovation, the bottom left being the curiosity that leads to inevitable success, and the right point being the process of discovery and research. 

As far as Noble Houses went, the Summerrich family was the mastermind behind most inventions outfitted into the daily life of the people of the Blackbaast. While this made them quite a bit of money, it was also the case that it caused their head of the family, the sibling's father, to strive for the exaction of their family's ideals to the greatest extent, even if it meant harming his own children.

It remained that Eshent, Masha, and Corrin had been created for these ideals in the first place. They were only meant for experimentation, that was their life's purpose. However, now that they had attained their own freedom, there were still far too many questions surrounding these experiments. For the most part, Eshent had blocked these memories out of his own mind, he remembered only one small part of it. 

What kind of 'key' was his father trying to find within them? How could a person provide access to, what in theory, seemed 'locked' away to others?

Eshent glanced upwards, staring up at the palace, Naasis, stretching high above. Without realising, the siblings had appeared right before it. They were in the center of the capital! Eshent looked back at the bronze coin in his hands, its appearance blurry and vague. In fact, the entirety of his vision had begun to waver. The pulsing pain in his head suddenly appeared again, this time incredibly violent. It felt like a dull dagger was being thrust into the side of his head, making his stomach churn. Nausea took over his body, and he keeled over as he wretched. 

"Eshe, are you alright?" Corrin rushed over towards him, Masha looking down at him with worry.

Suddenly, the air around them shifted. It was tense, cold. Like when Eshent had met the Priest in Yellow, the jeering and clamoring of the crowd around them stopped, the silent droning ringing through their ears. All colours around them lost their hue, and greyness pervaded. Then, the floor shifted underneath them, and their gazes shook as they glanced forward at what had appeared before them. 

They stood in the center of a massive black room, the hue of purplish-obsidian like a craggy shore underneath their feet. The sky was dark and dreary, starless and terrifying. 

Images flashed through Eshent's mind once again. He had seen this place many times before, it had been the source of the pain in his head, his fears and daydreams!

This was Shadowhaunt!