Chapter 83: Father Richard Anscham

"Mercy."

End of Arc 1: The Ruins - Theme Music

Map of the Country of Corcaea

You are Father Richard Anscham, leader of the Church of Mercy.

You've had a lot of time to think, to rest, and to Dream— but you'll sort all of that out later.

You've been sleeping for what feels like at least a week. It's very hard for you to listen to people (at times), so you aren't entirely sure how long it's been. Your companions had been very quiet.

The blankets around you— the embrace of your savior, the reminder that you still have allies on the surface— is a welcome respite from the scream that tears through Father Wilhelm's vacation home. It's coming from the room down the corridor.

It doesn't stop, but you're very familiar with the sound by now, and don't even flinch at the noise. Your nerves are so much calmer. You've had time to rest. You feel better than you have in years. There's very little tremor. You've had the chance to eat. You've slept— but you're very tired, still.

You've been through a lot.

The screams really aren't stopping. Father Wilhelm knocks his chair over, drops the cigar from his mouth, and sprints as fast as his legs can carry him out of the room. There's something being screamed about a demon. You hear your name somewhere in there, but it's alright. You are not afraid. You've been through a nightmare of your own making, and there is little in this world that could scare you, now.

The screams abate, after awhile. There's sobbing. You're given a good, long while to yourself, with the light of Mercy streaking through the windows. Her warmth. Her embrace.

Everything is quiet after awhile. No one bothers you. There's no explosions. No rush of water. No demons. There is no red moon, and no all-encompassing night. There are no spiders here. No centipedes, centaurs, beetles or even a single skeleton can be found. You might be close to looking like one, but you'll be alright. You have Flesh, you have Agriculture, and you know Them all so much better than you did before.

The Gods are Merciful, and you've served Her so diligently. You've obtained Her Relic. You gave your restraint to a demon. You allied with a monster, and granted leadership to a Lord who would kill his own men in an instant. You stayed an archdemon's hand.

You led two women into the bottom of the Earth, and have no idea where they are now— but you saved yourself. You've saved your dog, your mission, and made it out alive.

You may be a masochist, a killer, a glutton, and a preacher, but that's alright, too. Everything is going to be fine. You've grown. You've felt. You've known.

You've touched the Catalyst 32 times.

Idly, you take your flask out of your plain brown robes. Your hands tremble as you look to the check marks on the underside with love. You wouldn't let the clergy take it or your Relic from you. They couldn't pry it from your hands. You held your own, despite how much your muscles have wasted, and despite how thin you are.

​

You saved the country from famine three years ago. It was a blessing.

This has all been a blessing. You don't regret anything. You don't regret leaving the Church of Mercy, going to the ruins, and never once turning back. You were there for Idonea on her deathbed. You even gave her children your service.

You saved the ruins from utter destruction. You guided Yech to power. You found all of the Gods, sought their forgiveness, and learned so much of their blessings.

You completed your mission to Mercy. You hold it in the palm of your hand, and you can feel Her light, Her warmth, and Her embrace.

You have earned some respite. Some real rest.

You made a promise to a halfling woman you scarcely knew. Ofelia is out there somewhere, with the eyes of the Goddess. She asked you to not come looking for her, but you won't forget everything you said to her. You're a man of your word.

You're a man of the Gods.

You look over to Ray. He's sleeping soundly beside you, and has earned his rest, too.

You undo the blankets around your arms, shake off your sleep, and release Dream. "What was it we said, boy?"

He's sleeping soundly, unfazed by your question. It's alright.

You echo a promise you made, and never knew you'd have the chance to keep. "I don't think I've ever given myself a vacation. Or— or really taken care of myself. I'll keep our promise." It feels unnatural, but you manage.

You smile.

"When I get home. Oh— Mercy."