Chapter 61: The First Step

"This is only the beginning."

Music

Idonea is dying.

The fallen Mother of the church of Mercy is lying in the grain, surrounded by her daughters. Yech is kneeling next to her, with a gloved hand on Ray.

As you stagger out of Beltoro's domain, the door behind you seals shut in an instant. You know they are afraid of being seen. They are afraid of being known.

You have not made a promise, but you intend to return. For now, you try to focus. To not continue vomiting. You stagger forward and collapse to your knees next to the demon lord— your friend, your ally, the one person in the ruins that you know you could trust— who has helped you at every turn. Yech catches you as you stumble, and rights you onto your feet. Ray rushes beside you, leaning against you, whining, and nuzzling you to the best of his ability.

There is no sign of Ofelia or Celegwen. You can't quite care as you struggle to speak, and to do something with the limited time you have left.

Yech wraps an arm around your shoulder, helping you over towards Idonea's body. "Come on, you lunatic. I fucking knew you could do it. Come on. A little further. You've been through worse. Let's go."

You are so wracked with exhaustion that you easily collapse to your knees beside the archdemon.

Yech gives you a shoulder to lean on as the fallen Mother looks to you. Her face— her corpse— is shrouded in gold, but her radiance is fading fast. Her demeanor is patient. Her compassion is absolute. Her words are deliberate, radiant and so soft that you have to lean in to hear. She speaks calmly, and looks to you with no light in her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"There is no need to apologize, Idonea."

Though you're so exhausted you can scarcely see, you catch the edges of her lips lift into a slight smile. You return it.

The strain of your journey swells in the corners of your eyes. Your voice is cracked with emotion, but you try to push through it. To say something— anything— to express how much you've appreciated everything the archdemon has done for you. "I could have asked, couldn't I? About your children. About what you intended to teach me." The demon lord around your shoulders, the children of light, and the memory of how much you've been tortured embraces you. "You could have warned us. But I— I never thought to ask. I couldn't have known— couldn't have understood— I don't think I would have known what to do with this demon here—" You're leaning hard against Yech, struggling to stay conscious, to cling onto these last few moments. "I wouldn't have known what to do with your daughter, your children— but I have to thank you, Idonea. I want to thank you. I know."

Everyone is so quiet. There is no wind or light, save for the fading radiance of the archdemon lying before you. Her voice lifts as she softly speaks. "You already have. Thank you."

"Are you content, Idonea?"

"You have seen growth, and felt, and known— have you not?"

"I have."

A long moment passes between all of you.

The exhaustion enveloping your mind is unbearable, but you push through it to implore your teacher. Your mentor. Your guide. "Is there anything else you wish for me to do?"

There is a faint glow. Freya moves forward to hold her mother, and to help the archdemon reach into her chest. Idonea takes out a gilded locket, in the shape of two hands pressed together in prayer. It is immaculate, but its light is dim. You can look upon it with mortal eyes.

Though the object is delicate, small, and scarcely visible against the archdemon's decay, it means everything to you.

The fallen mother of Mercy extends her hands to you. Decayed flesh parts from the gold, and crumbles off of her frame as she wastes away before your eyes.

The Relic of your Goddess, the answer to your pain, and the cure to pain of so many others is before you.

"Take it. Use it. Grow. Feel. Know. Show the world everything that we have worked for. Heal their pain, Father. Heal yourself. Show them—"

"Mercy."

There is silence, a slight smile, and an embrace. There is nothing more that needs to be said.

You wordlessly take the Relic of Mercy into your palms. The clasped hands enveloped in gold pass on to you.

Idonea passes away.

Her form crumbles. The gold and compassion fades. Her light dies out. There is nothing left of her body, but she has imparted so much onto you.

There is silence, as Yech gathers Aurelius, Philomene, Delara, Esme and Freya together. He slides away from your shoulders, but not before ensuring you can kneel.

You can do more than kneel. The item within your hands fills you with warmth, with light, with health, and with Mercy. Pain is fading fast from your body and mind.

You stand.

Several of the minor demons surrounding Yech are crying. He doesn't have any words to offer, but extends his arms, his support, and all of his generosity. You can't fathom a skeleton crying, but his demeanor is that of a man who has lost someone dear to him.

You reach out with your very soul, and begin to pray. It is a simple prayer. You would not dare to hold funeral rites for a demon, but the fallen mother of Mercy deserved your respect. The demons that have aided you deserve closure. With the Relic of your Goddess in hand, you softly speak— to acknowledge the life of the archdemon, and your faith in everything you both stand for.

"The source of benevolence flowed forth for souls, and the ocean of Mercy flooded out unto the world. O Fount of Life, immaculate Goddess, envelop this world. Embrace us. O compassion and flow, pour from the Heart of the Gods. Do not be still. The fountain of Mercy will cycle, will stir, for us and for the world. Our vessel will hold. Our trust is in You."

You don't say anything further. Your words linger in the air as an invitation for the other demons to speak.

Aurelius mutters a few words. Her sisters, one by one, do the same. You can't understand their meaning, and don't need to. They've said their peace.

Their radiance and comfort hangs on the edges of your soul as you look to Yech, to ensure that your friend is alright.

His clipped words fall flat, as he awkwardly struggles to convey everything he likely wants to say. "Thanks, I guess. For everything." He looks to you with appreciation and a murmur. "...thanks for getting me up here to see her."

You nod slightly, lips tight. There's no need to say anything further. You put a hand on the demon's shoulder, trying to reassure him, and step out into the grain to find your companions.

This is only the first step.