Elena’s report, concluded…

It had been many drawn out moments long after its holy grasp, but I was still feeling it within me, my Lady. Trembling legs, blurry vision, you get it. Just a little, though.

The creature of blood was nowhere to be seen, but I saw ahead of me that it had left a trail of blood and unholy decay leading into the chamber beyond. And the bastard who was once Orcus, who was once Solus de Sina, was now nothing more than a bloody smear upon the cold stone floor. His old armour torn to bits, crushed to crimson pulps of flesh and metal.

Good riddance, I’d say.

The last of the revived cultists had fallen dead upon the floor for good, now that the creature who had brought them back was no longer beholden to its master. And Iris, she joined me soon enough, her white panties and silver jewellery bloody all over. She stunk of blood and sweat, and it was a far cry, I'll say, from the sweet scent of that perfume she has that I really like. You know, the one those silver-masked servants of hers prepare every morning for her while she gets dressed? But don't tell her I said that!

“I trust he did not trouble you too much, Lady de L’Enfer?” she asked as she gave but a single glance at the bloody smear ahead of us. “You look like you could be better.”

“Not at all. Totally had ‘em,” I remarked to her in reply, grinning and shrugging my shoulders despite the sensation of holy energies still lingering upon my unholy self. “Wasn’t me that did the honours, though.”

“It was that ritual weapon of his that did it, yes? I would have a word with it, if you would.”

“In there, then. Shall we?”

“Of course, Lady de L’Enfer.”

With Iris leading, we made our way into the chamber beyond the prayer hall, following the trail of blood slathered all over the cold stone. Where in the dimly lit interior, far beyond the sight of dried out husks hung around an emptied but stained vat made of stone, the creature of blood lay upon the floor and against a wall, shadows cast upon its body. It was dying gradually, bit by bit, its form the bloody shape of elven woman ever so familiar, while the corpse of an elven child lay cradled and still in its crimson arms.

“Elicia…?” it said, its words a bloody rasp as it looked at Iris with its faceless visage. “Elicia…?”

Iris said nothing. She walked forward, her jewellery clinking softly in the silent dark. And she stopped right before the creature and knelt. From where I stood, I saw the angelic wings of her golden sigil form upon her hands in an emanating glow of light as she whispered what I could barely make out to be a prayer. A prayer to Elicia, probably.

“Be at peace,” she said as I watched her place her hands upon the creature. “Blood of the fallen. Living avatar of Sophia.”

“Thank… you…”

The light brought the creature a great deal of comfort. It had subsumed the decay of my necromantic magics, letting its holy blood replenish itself once more. To be honest, my Lady, I'd be a little annoyed at how easily my magic was undone. But Iris is, after all, the Ecclesiarch of the Central Church. And as I continued watching, I could see that they were communicating. Wordlessly, though, their hands held in each other’s while the dead girl remained in the creature’s arms.

“Isha, I must…” the creature suddenly said out loud, its womanly voice pulsing with holy might as it looked at the jewelled truncheon in my hand. “Ecclesiarch, please…”

I stood still and probably frowned a little at it. Being unsure of what to do does that to you, no? But Iris, she knew what to do. Perhaps she could sense what this holy fiend wanted, being so damned holy herself. I say this, because she offered her hand to me, and said:

“The truncheon, Lady de L’Enfer. Give it to me, quickly.”

“Right.”

I gave Iris the truncheon, and she brought the jewel encrusted upon it close to Isha’s lifeless body. The creature of blood looked at Iris and nodded at her.

“You are willing,” Iris stated, her words cold yet graceful. “The others within you are willing as well.”

“Yes… we are in agreement… for her, the last of us…”

“It shall be so, then.”

I stood still once more, being admittedly completely out of my depth back there. And I watched in silence as the creature’s holy blood began to seep into the pores of Isha’s skin, all over her little body. Bit by bit, while Iris kept the glowing truncheon close with one hand while her other hand channelled the golden light of her sigil. That eventually, Isha half-opened her eyes to the sight of what was happening to her.

“Mom…?” she said, her voice rasped like a gentle and mildly confused whisper I could barely hear in the dark. “Where… are we? Why… why… are you… what’s happening…”

“It’s going to be okay… Isha. I… promise …” the creature whispered in reply. “Mommy loves you… always… forever… but she has… to go now. But you’ll be strong… and a good girl. For me… for yourself… for all of us who love you…”

“Mom… what are you…?”

I watched, arms crossed and silent while the creature embraced Isha with what still remained of it. Because bit by bit, like the ebb of a tide never to return, it was letting itself melt into Isha’s body, filling her with its holy blood while her soul returned to herself. That perhaps once more, she might live on within the body that was once hers. And I could see that upon the crimsonness of the creature’s faceless visage, it was well aware of what this entailed. Took it really well, too.

But Isha, she was afraid. Confused, probably, given the state of things. About this and that, and so much more. Can’t blame her, really. And the creature knew this, because its crimson hands began to sway. Gently and slowly like a mother’s touch, as it sang to her softly what sounded like a lullaby, its voice a bittersweet aria bearing the words of a goddess of happiness, her dreams, and the wondrous places that awaited her in the morning after dawn. Where she, this goddess of happiness, could perhaps dream anew, once more. Of even better things, of even happier things in the morrow.

Happier things, huh? I’ll admit it, my Lady. Back there, as I listened in, it got me thinking about my brother. You know, Grinnaux. About him, about how he loved me when I was at my best, and when I was at my worst. That lullaby, it had that kind of love in its lyrics and verses, a primal love that's timeless like eternity. Yeah, it just had a little something in it, a little something that would make yours truly wax sentimental in a report prepared just for you. Really, I can still picture it quite vividly in my mind.

But truly, though. I miss him. I really do. It’s why I do my best to do his memory proud. Every day, even if the irony might be sickening even to me. Even if we're completely different, deep down. Perhaps Anna feels the same way with Claire, and I wonder if Isha will come to feel the same way as well, having been loved like that. Because that kind of love, it changes you. For better or worse, it just does. Sure did for me, at least.

Anyway, the report. By the time the lullaby came to its wistful end, Isha had fallen silent. And the creature was little more than a wisp of holy blood. With what little it had left as it melted away into her forevermore, it looked at Iris and I, and it said:

“Please… keep her safe… servants of Elicia… by Sophia… I’ll be… grateful… forever…”

I just nodded. Iris might’ve said something, but I think she nodded as well. After everything, I really didn’t know what to say back there. And perhaps Iris felt the same way, for we remained silent and still in the dark for what felt like ages, in a world where the creature of blood we had known for so little time, was now no more.

But, I’d hate to end my report on a downer. And you, my Lady, don’t have to worry about that! Because Iris, she got up and approached me soon enough, solemn and weary. Her pretty face was streaked with blood, and I could see more of it caked around her golden eyes. And in her jewelled-adorned arms, she had an unconscious Isha cradled within them. When I placed my hand upon her as she slept, I could feel her little chest heaving lightly upon my cold fingers. And it hurt to touch her, it really did. Probably all thanks to the holy blood now coursing through her very being. I dare say it bears the life of the very land itself, like Sophia, a primal holiness so sanctified and pure. Really painful to undead as well, I might add!

“I am tired, Lady de L’Enfer,” Iris declared to me as she made for the exit. “Let us be on our way.”

It was with this, that we left this Heavensward Shrine as a party of three. That’s it, really. The Lightsworn vanguard of Fort Sina who’ll come here at Iris’s command long after we’ve left shall find nothing but scattered madmen, empty corpses and dried bloodstains. And they’ll claim that bastard’s broken armour, maybe hang it up as an example for all who would oppose Elicia’s Law. Maybe, maybe not. Nyth, the current Lightsworn Vizier at Sina, won’t get to meet his predecessor to share some words and a cup of tea, I’m afraid.

Oh, right! Before I call it a day. Remember, my Lady? What you said about getting that bastard’s ‘super-secret weapon’ for yourself? Well, she’s all yours. Take good care of her, won’t ya?