Chapter 21: Sanity

"Bent but not broken." ​

There's a slight sound as Celegwen shifts in place. "Do you need anything, Father? Is there any way I can help?"

Ofelia chimes in, "yeah. Seriously."

The words of your clergy cling to the back of your exhausted mind.

Ugly son of a bitch.

No better than a demon.

Ofelia tries again. "Richard, I know you're upset. Can you please talk to me? To us?"

Pulling completely away from Ray (he immediately starts whining), you stop kneeling and sit on the ground. Burying your face against the filthy cloth over your knees, you hold onto your legs as your voice breaks. "I feel helpless."

"You looked pretty damn cool, like, just a minute or two ago—" You can hear Celegwen firmly punch her in the arm.

Ray leans against you even harder as you try to ignore the sound of both women walking over and sitting right across from you. "Why, Father?" Kindness hangs off of Celegwen's voice. It's only making you feel worse.

"I don't deserve for you both to be so— so kind. I don't deserve the Gods' blessings. I can't save any of these people."

"Is that not what we're here for?"

You take a long moment to battle with the urge to break down. Your eyes sting. Your chest aches. Ray nuzzles into one of your stick-thin arms. At the very least, his close contact eases your emptiness in a minuscule way.

"There was no mention of the Relic. I don't even know if what we're looking for is here. It— it—" You choke out the rest. "—it doesn't matter. I could read every book in this Gods-forsaken place, and it wouldn't bring back—" You blink away a swell of tears. "All the people who were lost here. We have been walking through a graveyard, and fighting people who didn't even—" It hurts to breathe. "—who didn't even know what they were doing wrong. Everything is wrong. I can't cure them. I can't heal— what's happened here—" A sob catches in your throat. "I don't even know what I'm doing—! There's so much that I don't know. And it feels like the more I learn, the worse off I am."

Ofelia scoots just a little closer. "You didn't know. And you've been fightin' for yer life. You haven't done anythin' wrong."

"I haven't done anything— anything right either—! Innocent men and women killed, all because of me. I've thought I've been doing the right thing— I've put you all in danger. I haven't even found a lead." The fight to keep your voice down wins out over the struggle to not break down crying. "Just look at me! Flesh is ashamed of me. Spirit knows it. She knows my failings. I'm— I'm..."

Both women are either respecting your space, or are too preoccupied with the implications of what you're saying to respond.

Their silence is agonizing enough for you to continue. "I'm weak. I'm not a King, or a God, or a sorcerer. I can't do anything on my own. And even when I try— even when I devote my life to what I love— I can't do anything right. I waste away. I abuse Their gifts—! I get overwhelmed—! I'm weak—!"

There's something on you. You look up in terror. Small as she is, Ofelia is able to hug you as you sit on the ground.

Every hair on your body stands on end as you tense. You've never been held by anyone so affectionately— save for your mother. Unable to respond, you look to Celegwen for help. An easy out. Anything.

She comes over and hugs you as well. Your tears evaporate as your mind scrambles to make sense of what to do.

"You're too hard on yerself." Ofelia's voice is muffled as she speaks into your shoulder. "We've gotten ya' in some trouble too. You've saved mine and Gwen's life a couple times now. Ya' gotta' stop actin' like there's no good in ya'. It's not right."

Music

Ofelia isn't lying to you, and Celegwen isn't protesting. They genuinely think that you're a good person— and you know they're right. Your long arms tremble as you awkwardly wrap them around your friends. You're still young, but twenty-four years has been far too long without having anyone in your life to hold.

Everything is too hot. You try to muffle every tear that escapes— hating how ugly the sound is— but it's difficult to care. Burying your face in Ofelia's sleeve, you sob as hard as you can as she tightens her arms ever so slightly. Relief washes over you in waves. It feels so good to have someone hold you.

You don't want the moment to end. No one feels the need to say anything for a long while. Ray's panting interjects your broken breath and sobbing from time to time, but it's difficult to hear him. You eventually try pulling away from Ofelia out of embarrassment, and apologize through tears, "sorry for— for ruining your shirt—"

She waves a hand dismissively, and expertly keeps her arms around you through the motion. "No big deal. Don'tcha worry 'bout a thing."

"I'm still worried about where— where we're headed. What might happen. This place, and— and the people that—!" Your voice breaks, as you fight all the harder to keep your volume down. "—that were here! The ones that— that haven't left—"

Celegwen lifts her head up. "I promised to help you. I understand the risks. I'm sorry for being so hard on you. I did not understand at the time how much you're struggling with, Father. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for." She whispers, "do try and keep your voice down, though."

You're crying too hard to speak.

Ofelia pats you on the back as you nod, and she clearly doesn't mind that you're soaking her shirt. "Hey, hotshot? It's okay. You've been through some crazy stuff, but Gwen's right. Remember what we said before? No one else we've met down here had their shit on as straight as you." She pulls away from you gently. "Gimme just a sec, okay Richard—?

Reluctantly letting her go, Celegwen takes your attention away by pulling you in closer. She gives you a smile that skips a few beats of your heart. "It's alright."

Ray hangs back with no idea how to respond to the situation. Placing your chin over Celegwen's shoulder, you bite your lip, and try not to get tears all over her bare skin. Her sparse sleeves don't do either of you much good— but the elf is much closer to your race's height. There's no need to pretend that you're being held by a human woman, though. You're simply relieved beyond words to be next to a friend.

After a few more minutes pass, Ofelia's whispers register from right behind you. "No one seems to be payin' us any mind. Either the patrols are deaf, or they're just used to the sound from the other people down here— oh, Richard—"

Celegwen holds you tighter as your sobs redouble. "Do you think any of those— of those people will make it to the surface...?"

The silence that follows lasts far longer than you'd like. Celegwen mercifully breaks it. "I don't think any of us can answer that with any certainty."

Ofelia adds, "I hope they do. They sure stand a better chance now than if they hadn't met ya', right?"

You nod. It's all you can do, distraught as you are. At some point, Ofelia returns to hug you again. You knit your eyes shut, and allow yourself to sob.

The thought of not having to deal with any pain keeps your tears flowing freely.

Time wears on all of you.

After what feels like half an hour— or maybe more— your tears finally start to subside. You can't bear to break away from the hug, so you try talking at a little more length. Your throat is cracked, dry, and burning from crying for so long— but it feels so good to be so open. "I've—" Deep breath. "Been raised my entire life—" The deep breath you just took catches on the start of another sob. "To not— to not trust anyone. To keep people away. It's— it's so terrible. I know you must have— I know you must have thought that I was crazy—" You swallow hard. "Leaving so soon— before. I didn't mean— I didn't mean anything by it. It's— it's just— it's just hard. Thank you. Both of you. I won't— I won't let you down again. I—"

Celegwen pulls back to sternly stare you down. You're too exhausted to shrink away, and merely wince at her eye contact. She only dares to smirk when she thinks you're no longer looking. "It's alright, even if you do. I know you're trying as hard as you can, Father. That's more than enough."

"You humans got too short a life to live for all this nonsense." Ofelia's voice is comically muffled next to your sleeve. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again: it's not right. People ought to be good to one another." She holds a finger up to you, and pulls away to slink over to her equipment. A handkerchief is retrieved.

You're unable to resist asking, "why do you have so many of them?"

"What? These?" She waves the cloth around delicately before firmly handing it over to you. (You take it without complaint.) "People always get upset when they're away from home. I figured I'd need plenty where I was goin'." She smirks. "Looks like I was right."

You can't quite return the cheeky grin that she breaks into, but your expression softens a good deal. Pulling away from Celegwen at last, you dry your face. It's hard to not feel ashamed for your behavior, but your friends were as understanding as you could have ever hoped for.

Looking to the handkerchief, you're unsure of whether or not to hand it back to Ofelia.

"Keep it," she says.

Your green irises dart up to her, unsure if you heard her correctly. "I couldn't."

"I don't give a shit 'bout yer customs. Keep it."

"You're— you're sure?"

"Yeah, of course. You gotta make it up to me by takin' better care of yerself! The less I see ya' usin' it, the better!"

The corners of your mouth almost pick up as you tuck the cloth away in one of your pockets. "I— I can do that."

Celegwen moves to stand, and doesn't take her eyes off from you. "Do you think you'll be alright, Father?"

You sniff while looking out over the many books surrounding you. It's a wonder that you feel so much better— even after having prayed to Spirit. A ghost of a smile crosses your face as you murmur, "I think so."

"OhmygoodnessGwen, did you see that?" Ofelia practically trips over herself as she leans in towards you.

You shirk away, and wrap your arms around yourself. The smile fades as quickly as it came. "See... what?"

The sorceress is also grinning, and gracefully deflects away from Ofelia's teasing. "If I'm not mistaken Father, you understand the content of this material now. Do you not?"

"Yes." You pull a bit further away from Ofelia, who is now leaning into your personal space. Ray bounds forward, pushes himself between the two of you, and slobbers all over her hands in his eagerness to help. "Ofelia, please. I'm fine."

The halfling sarcastically deflates, and battles with the mastiff to get away from her. She goes back to her equipment, and sets to readying her things. Your hands are still trembling, but given how relieved you are, it's a lot easier to still the rest of your body. It takes seconds to gather your things, leave aside what you now know beyond any doubt, and ready yourself to go.

Ofelia thrusts more food into your hands the instant you move to leave. Your frown is back in full force as she asks, "so. Where are we going?"