Halfway to the Chapel of Light, Lorelei began regretting her sudden decision. She had thought the blood loss from her episode to be insignificant, but combined with the pain and her mental exhaustion, it had taken a toll on her body. Slowing her steps, she leaned on one of the cloister’s columns, trying to catch her breath. Her vision throbbed in and out of focus as she let her gaze wander over the rustling tops of the trees and the billowing clouds that heralded an upcoming storm.

Loud panting came from behind her, announcing Duncan’s arrival even before the knight spoke.

“I’m too old for chases like this,” he grumbled and carefully supported Lorelei. “Have you considered trying out as a crown’s runner, my lady? Any military post would be happy to have a rabbit like you.”

“A tempting proposal,” Lorelei chuckled, regaining her bearing. “I’d hope to get a letter of recommendation from you when the time comes.”

The grin on Duncan’s tired face stretched even wider. He was about to continue their banter, but the arrival of the infirmarian put an end to their leisurely conversation.

“Merciful… Fathers! Duchess, what demon has gotten into you!” The wheezing priest finally caught up to them and almost crumbled on the floor. “Return to your cell. If you are still contagious, Sir Duncan and anyone that comes into contact with you-”

“I’m not contagious, Father.” Lorelei released her grip on the column and resumed her stride with Duncan still by her side. “And even if I am sick, I’ll bet my soul that it isn’t the Blood Plague.”

“Sir Knight!” Desperate, the infirmarian tried changing the target of his pleading. “It seems that the duchess is suffering from some form of mental perturbation! We should do the reasonable thing.”

“Which would be to follow her lead,” huffed Duncan and threw the cleric a cautioning look from under his bushy brows. “Our duchess has a solid head on her shoulders. I might not understand a thing about healing and such, but I’m willing to lay my life down when it comes to the lady’s medical knowledge.”

“Fathers help us!” grumbled the infirmarian and trod defeated after them, incessantly murmuring how sooner or later the obviously erroneous diagnoses of the duchess would bring them misery.

“Thank you for supporting me,” whispered Lorelei, not giving ear to the priest’s laments.

“It’s just what a faithful servant should do, my lady.”

“I hope you aren’t acting out of blind loyalty.” She frowned.

“I might be old, but I ain’t bling.” Duncan straightened his back and winked at her. “A knight’s loyalty is earned through deeds, not empty words, and you have definitely earned mine.”

Lorelei bit her lips and didn’t dare utter a word, but her heart was engulfed by warmth. Duncan tactfully averted his gaze, pretending not to see the moisture in her eyes.

Without further delay, their group reached the Chapel of Light just as the stormy wind began picking up and the rumble of distant thunder shook the silent garden. The ornate, white building hid between the lush greenery of a small side courtyard, giving its grieving patrons a sense of peace and seclusion from the outside world. A polished oak door led to the surprisingly dark insides of the temple. Its entire interior was clad in black marble with only a few thin candles at the entrance. But with each step alongside the long nave, the number and size of the candles grew and the color of the marble seemed to lighten. At the very end, the spotless white altar stood bathed in brilliant light like a ray of sunshine at the end of a dark tunnel.

Lorelei trembled slightly as she took the symbolic Penance Road. From the darkness of death and decay, ruled over by Father Norn, one’s soul ascended to the embrace of Father Lustris; to the Heavenly Realm of the Gods to be judged by the Father of Light and receive punishment. Evildoers were condemned and sent to the Father of Darkness to be either forever locked in the Nether Realm, or to be destroyed and returned to oblivion. The righteous ones were sent back to the Mortal Realm as seeds to new life or remained in the Heavenly Domain. Some especially distinguished souls could even become members of the Gods’ court and gain sanctity.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

‘And where would the soul of a saint’s host hiding from her predestination go? Especially one embroiled in magical affairs,’ mused Lorelei for a moment, but decided not to dwell on the thought. Maybe the Nether Realm wasn’t as bad as the legends pictured it to be…

With a shake of her head and a deep breath, Lorelei returned to the present. As she walked with Duncan and the infirmarian down the twilight nave, their steps echoed under the vaulted ceiling. The drumming of raindrops on the narrow windows at the end of the hall and the crackling of the candles further increased the oppressive and desolate feeling the chapel exuded. Before the white altar, eight wooden coffins were arranged like the rays of a setting sun. A pang twisted Lorelei’s heart as she saw their insides half-full with flowers, the other half displaying human-shaped figures wrapped in golden cloth with only the unnaturally pale faces being visible. But Lorelei knew the truth. The coffins, as well as the shrouds, were empty. The bodies of the eight victims were hastily cremated in an attempt to stop the plague’s spread. What the golden fabric held were not remains but mere rag-dolls with wax slabs roughly carved in the shapes of the deceased’s faces.

But the closer they came to the altar and the coffins, the more life-like the wax faces looked in the flickering light of the candles. For a moment, Lorelei could swear she saw Madam Gilbert’s eyelids flutter as if they wanted to open again. She instinctively grabbed Duncan’s arm and swallowed a shriek, cursing the masterful hand that had carved the features of the funeral puppets. The stifled swearing coming from the old knight at least brought her the consolation that she wasn’t the only one startled.

“I’ll be damned! Those look freakishly… lively.”

“Young Lord Castor does indeed have the blessing of Saint Iore The Artisan,” whispered the infirmarian, deciding to ignore Duncan’s misbehavior.

“Where is Master Castor?” Lorelei held a hand over her heart and looked around, all the while trying to ignore the coffins and their contents.

As if summoned by her words, a slightly hunched, willowy figure emerged from a side door behind the altar. At the very same moment, a rolling thunder shook the glass windows and a flash of lightning illuminated the youth’s gaunt face.

“Master Castor!” Lorelei let go of Duncan and rushed toward him, unable to contain her excitement. “I need your he-”

“No!” With huge eyes, Castor scrambled away from her and his whole body shook. “Stay back! Leave me in peace! Please!”

“W-what?” Lorelei stopped in her tracks and blinked confused at the cowering youth. “Master Castor, it’s me.”

“Don’t you have any mercy, Lady?” Castor’s back pressed against the wall and he whimpered, covering his face with his hand. “Haven’t you tormented me enough!? I never… I kept my word. What more do you want?”

“Castor, come to your senses!” Lorelei stepped in and lifted her hand, but the youth grabbed her wrist in an iron grip, squeezing with all his might and making her cry out loudly.

“Don’t touch me! Never again! You vile-”

“Hands off the duchess!”

Like an unstoppable charging bull, Duncan flew in and gave the young nobleman a mighty punch in the jaw. Knocked out half unconscious, Castor spun around, releasing Lorelei’s wrist, and slid to the ground with a moan.

“You broke his jaw!” Lorelei was about to kneel down and inspect the youth’s injury, but the old knight held her back by the arm.

“I didn’t. And even if I did, he deserved it for attacking you.”

“He was obviously perturbed!”

“D-duchess? Oh, no!” Castor’s muffled voice made them look down. The young nobleman hurriedly prostrated himself on the ground and even banged his forehead several times into the marble slabs. “I… I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to… It was a misunderstanding. I was… half asleep. I have been working on the masks up late and I fell asleep. And… I had a nightmare. I didn’t recognize you. I thought you were… I beg the Duchess for forgiveness!”

“All is fine, Master Castor.” Lorelei gave Duncan an earnest look and he begrudgingly let go of her. She knelt beside the trembling youth and patted his shoulder. He flinched again, but this time did not retaliate. “We all have been through a lot. And sometimes, when faced with great adversity, our nightmares haunt us even after waking up.”

“I’m sorry.” Castor sobbed and shook his head. “I… I did you harm.”

“None whatsoever.” Lorelei chuckled and made sure to keep her bruised wrist out of his sight. “Now, Master Castor, gather your wits and calm yourself. I’m sorry I can’t give you much time to rest and recuperate, but I urgently need your help.”

“My help?” The youth lifted his head and there was a big red-purplish lump already forming between his brows.

“Yes. I need your eyes, Master Castor.” Lorelei swallowed and loosened the strings of her shift for the third time today before turning her back to the petrified youth. “Tell me, what do you see?”