Chapter 26: Time to Relax

Gratt woke up with a terrible sweat. Thoughts of prior events flooded his mind as he tr to distinguish between fiction and reality. The cold temperature and scarce lighting reaffirmed that they were still in Mileth Crypt, but nothing about the whole ordeal with Morr. Gratt looked at a nearby wall with a very familiar person leaning heavily onto it. Morr’s sleeping face -- a face that didn’t seem possible to have an ounce of evil intent – washed most of Gratt’s harboring doubts, and he began to think that prior events weren’t real.

“Was it all a dream?” Gratt looked around for the dagger he distinctively remembered.

However, there was nothing of the like. Under the lighting of the fickle torches was the cold ground. The torches were in the same exact spot as he remembered. The walls that surrounded them were still as unpleasant to look at as ever.

“What a terrible nightmare...” Gratt walked over to Morr slumbering onto a nearby wall and gave him a gentle shook. After observing a lack of action, Gratt gave him another gentle shook. Doubt arose as to whether he really should be waking the young man. The life-like dream touched all his senses and clearly reminded him of how horrible the young man was. But at the same time, he thought of the message the dream-Morr drilled into his head.

Morr rubbed his eyes, stretched out his arms, and yawned.

“Hey.” Morr looked at Gratt who was greatly perplexed with his emotions and lost in thought. “Is… everything okay?”

“Y-Yeah. Sorry.” Gratt offered a helping hand.

Morr accepted it with his right hand and stood on his feet with Gratt’s support.

“Out of curiosity… do you remember how we got here?” Gratt hesitantly asked.

“We… killed a few skeletons, then…” Morr recalled recent events, “walked down… here? …I think so? Sorry, that must’ve been a heavy nap because I can’t remember the details clearly.”

Gratt saw Morr scratching his head out of frustration and felt more at ease that the young man was nothing like he dreamt of.

“Yeah. That’s right.” Gratt reassured.

The sudden remembrance of their objective sprang into Morr’s mind. “Oh! We were looking for your sword, right? We should start--“

“No, not anymore.” Gratt quickly ruin the thought. He looked around, especially at the spaces he felt was too dark. The flickering torches were weak, but as he observed their weak strengths, he saw areas of darkness that should’ve given way to the light. But it didn’t. It was subtle, but he felt like there was an artificial darkness blended in with the natural absence of light. A darkness that differed from those that follows the law of nature. A sudden grasp of fear shook his body trembling cold. Restless thoughts ran through his mind as he tried to shake off the feeling of someone, or something, watching them. “Let’s go… Hurry…”

“Weren’t you looking for your sword for months?” Morr asked.

“Some things just aren’t worth the trouble.” Gratt began to walk towards the entrance to the 7th floor without waiting for Morr. “Let’s leave, please.”

“Sure…” Morr tried to trace Gratt’s worried eyes, but it only led to the spaces that were inhibited by the dark. He rubbed his hands together to fend off the cold, lightly hopped with his tippy toes, and followed behind.

***

Mileth Inn…

Priscilla and Pontiff rested in her rented room, escaping the rowdy crowd for a soft quietness. Indiscernible noises seeped their way through the crevices of the door, but that alone wasn’t enough to disturb their thoughts. Both contemplated their situations and passed ideas back and forth. Running around town, asking street strangers for information, and searching every nook and cranny were some of their recent thoughts.

However, a strong blockade stood in front of them. As they passed ideas back and forth, it was apparent that they were lacking in man power and information. To be the first one to find the criminal dressed in black, specifically a Priestess of Sgrios, was a simple quest, and an incredibly difficult one as well. In a competitive environment where first place gets the most reward they knew time was against them.

Priscilla hung her head low. “What do we do? Me, you, and possibly Morr can’t find this person all on our own.”

“It’s easy. Let’s walk around town a bit, and bam! The person we’re looking for will be right there.” Pontiff said.

Priscilla raised an eyebrow. “Was that a joke? That had to be a joke, right?”

Pontiff nodded. “Yes. Congratulations. That was a joke.”

“Ha-ha.” Priscilla expressed her sarcastic laughter with a pinch of annoyance. “I’m being serious here. The people down there could involve their friends, or even their guilds. Not only do we have to find the person, we also have to capture them, alive, to maximize our reward.”

“Either way you look at it, it’s really unlikely that we’ll be the one to claim the 100,000 gold reward.” Pontiff said.

“Not with that attitude.” Priscilla sighed. “Anyway, let’s look for Morr. Thinking with three heads should be better than two.”

And at her suggestion the two left her room and looked down from the 2nd floor’s stairway. Through all the guests and residents that clouded their search, a particular person near the front entrance of the inn wore a black cape and had black hair. Priscilla shouted Morr’s name, but it was fruitless with all of the guests’ noises muddling her voice. She shouted once more but the results were the same; the person with the black cape never turned towards them.

Priscilla decided for a different approach and walked downstairs. Pontiff followed behind, quietly. Eventually they fought their way towards their target, and Priscilla reached her hand out to grab his shoulder.

“Hey!” Priscilla greeted with a smile as she placed her hand firmly onto his shoulder.

The person looked back at the sudden touch of a soft hand. But that person wasn’t the person Priscilla expected. Her seamless smile soured into a disappointed expression as she tried to hold steadfast with her appearance.

“Heh.” Pontiff expressively said with a lack of facial appliance.

The stranger’s eyes widened as he marveled at the beauty before him. Astonished at her godly genes and godly luck, he quietly praised his god for gracing him with such a beauty. He opened his mouth and tried to communicate like a proper member of society, but the sheer prowess of her beauty willed his words away.

“Ah… Sorry, sorry, wrong person.” Priscilla quickly turned around to awkwardly find something to attach her eyes to. They wandered aimlessly, hoping that the stranger would get the hint.

The stranger’s shoulder suddenly drooped low at her mistake, and he excused himself.

“If you knew that wasn’t him, then say something.” Priscilla said with a heavy amount of embarrassment.

“Well… I’m one-hundred percent positive that’s not him, now.” Pontiff covered his mouth as if he’s trying to muffle his chuckle.

Priscilla cracked her mouth open, preparing to unleash a thousand flaming words. “You--“

“Priscilla, Pontiff.” A familiar voice rang from their side and cut her message short. “I’m glad to see you two well.”

Pontiff look to his side and gave a thumbs-up. “Great timing.”

Priscilla followed his gaze and sheepishly smiled. “Ah… nevermind, forget it. Glad to see you’re alive, Morr.”

Behind Morr stood a nervous Gratt. His eyes darted around restlessly like a dog in a dangerous environment. His hands gripped the hilt of his sheathed sword, as if he was worried that an enemy would appear. Gratt’s odd demeanor drew their attention, and they looked towards Morr for answers. Morr merely shrugged his shoulder, unable to satisfy their curiosity.

“I’m happy to see you’re alive, too, Gratt.” Priscilla smiled at him, hoping to calm his nerves.

“What’s wrong?” Pontiff inquired.

“Nothing at all…” Gratt responded with a clear showing of uneasiness.

Priscilla and Pontiff looked towards Morr for answers again, but they were turned down when he shook his head.

“I asked him what was bothering him, but he told me the same thing he said to you two.” Morr informed. “I think he needs a rest from going down eight floors and going back up. It probably took a mental toll on him. We also couldn’t find his sword, so it’s not exactly a happy ending.”

“How about relaxing for now? The inn has an amazing in-door hot spring that I’m sure will help unfold all those forehead creases.” Priscilla suggested. “The inn’s bath is open to all male guests at this time. C’mon, I’ll register you guys under my guest’s list.”

Priscilla led the way, naturally, as if she knew they would all agree and follow behind. Morr and Pontiff chatted from behind while Gratt nodded or shook his head every now-and-then to whatever questions may pop up. Making their way to the customer support’s desk proved to be even more sweat-inducing than a trip through the first floor of Mileth Crypt. They had to avoid sharp axes, spears, and swords that hung from the side or back of the crowded pack of adventurers gathered here. Many didn’t have them sheathe to passively show their weapon’s shininess and grade-A beauty. The manager of the inn was proud that many of his customers were adventurers, but it also stressed his nerves that there may be a sudden brawl due to a mere accident… or worse.

Finally, after registering their names under her room number and receiving complimentary bathrobes and towels provided by the inn, Priscilla led them towards a big door that had a symbol of a hot spring.

“Relax, relax as much as you can.” Priscilla said. “There’s something really important we need to discuss when you’re done. Anyway, I’ll be waiting in my room.”

Priscilla departed from the group, leaving Morr, Pontiff, and Gratt standing in front of the big door.

“Something important?” Morr asked Pontiff.

“You’ll find out soon enough. But let’s put that aside for now.” Pontiff insisted. “Let’s rest inside, we can chat there.”

Just as Gratt and Pontiff took a step forward, Morr called out from behind.

“Pontiff, a word, please?” Morr gestured him towards the side. “Please go in first, Gratt. We’ll join you in a minute.”

Gratt didn’t seem trouble to be excluded from their talk, and he entered the hot spring first.

“What is it?” Pontiff stood to the side of the door, awaiting Morr’s response.

“I’d figure I should let you know sooner than later.” Morr stood on the same side of the wall, facing forward. “But...”

“What?” Pontiff inquired. “Just say it.”

“I think I have a problem… Have I ever… acted odd around you?” Morr asked with a troubled expression clearly written on his face.

“What do you mean?” Pontiff recalled recent memories as well as it could serve him.

“Agh! It’s like…” Morr pounded his head, trying to think of the words that would best describe the trouble in his heart. “Nevermind. Maybe if it happens again, I’ll--“

“Stop.” Pontiff held up his hand. “Just say it, whatever it is that’s on your mind.”

Morr glanced at Pontiff. Expectedly, he didn’t seem at all too interested in the subject, but his eyes edged forward, like he wants to learn more about it. Morr then averted his eyes, facing forward once more.

“Lately, it feels like I’m being excluded from things I should be a part of.” Morr answered honestly. “Like I’m being cut out of a picture that I should be in. The silhouette of the picture fits me, but when I place the cut-out piece of me into the picture, it wouldn’t fit no matter how many times I try.”

Pontiff examined Morr’s troubled face and rested his chin onto his hand.

“When did you first notice it?” Pontiff inquired.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if what I say will be right.” Morr answered. “I don’t want to say something that would mislead you.”

“Have some trust in my abilities.” Pontiff reassured. “It’s better to give me something to work with, at the very least. But I’ll break it into easy questions, so relax and just give me an honest answer.”

Morr nodded.

“Did this first occur before or after we left you and Gratt on the 7th floor?” Pontiff inquired.

“Before.” Morr replied.

“Did it first happen before or during your treatment at the Temple of Glioca?” Pontiff inquired.

“Before… I think…” Morr answered with a hint of uncertainty.

“Before?” Pontiff turned to face Morr and inspected his expression. “Before that? I was wondering if it could’ve been an effect of the drug I concocted for your treatment, but if it was before that… Then, was it before the… well, the incident with the church. You know, that day we…”

“Before...” Morr rapidl replied with the last phonetic sound lingering to a silent.

“Before… I see.” Pontiff faced forward, falling into a state of deep thought to figure out Morr’s ailment. “Then… did you first notice it before or after your time with the Church?”

Morr shook his head in defeat. “I don’t know. I can’t remember anything that happen before I fell into the Church’s hand. But I think this and that are different… I think this first happened during the time I was their prisoner.”

Pontiff’s ears perked. “Wait, what do you mean by that?”

“I… I can’t see myself in that photo before I was their prisoner… like there was no photo to begin with.” Morr’s voice gradually grew softer without his realization. “But I do exist in the photos as my time as the Church’s prisoner.”

“I see. I… I’m really sorry, Morr. I need more time to think about it.” Pontiff slowly nodded at the ideas that popped into his head. Whether or not he can pinpoint Morr’s ailment troubled him. “I’ll check the books available in the Mileth. I’m not really experience in this kind of stuff… but I’m sure there’ll be something there that can help me.”

Morr turned his body towards Pontiff and slightly bowed. “Thank you, Pontiff.”

“Ah! N-no need.” Pontiff hurried to stop Morr’s overt gratitude. “Please, we’re friends. This much is something I can do. Let’s go inside. Gratt must be lonely being in there by himself.”

But before Pontiff could take a step inside the door, Morr called out to him once more.

“Oh, there’s something else…” Morr stopped Pontiff in his track.

“What is it?” Pontiff turned around, looking at a shy Morr.

“This cape… what should I do about it?” Morr asked. “Would it be odd if people see me like this?”

“Heh. Right.” Pontiff gave him his own towel. “Wrap it around your neck to cover your shoulder blade when you undress. It won’t be that weird if people don’t see the cape coming out of your body.”

“What about you?” Morr asked.

“I was thinking about a second dip, but… I’ve bathed long enough before you and Gratt arrived.” Pontiff said. “Besides, I can use this time to rent some books. Go on and take your time in the hot spring. We’ll be waiting in room #202.”

“Thanks, Pontiff.” Morr expressed his gratitude once more and walked through the large door. With one foot into the door, he turned around and said, “One more thing!”

“Yes, what is it?” Pontiff sighed.

“Can you take this with you?” Morr protruded his hand holding a dagger from his cape. “I wouldn’t want to take it into the bath me with.”

“Sure.” Pontiff accepted the dagger and examined the tip of it. It was dry, but there was certainly some kind of liquid coating it. A dry smear of the liquid could be seen, making him think this isn’t any ordinary dagger.

“Thanks!” Morr waved goodbye and disappeared through the large door of the hot spring.