Daegal exited the room only to meet with Mathew, who was waiting for him. The older man did not look upset that Daegal had not left when he asked everyone to at the very least, but he did give him a stern stare while leaning against the wall, arms folded in front of his chest.
“I take it you had something to say to the kid before leaving?”
“Yeah... sorry.”
Mathew searched Daegal’s expression for a sign of what had happened, and despite the unfamiliar features, he could see that something deeply emotional was spoken about when he looked into Daegal’s eyes.
“How did Osric react to what you said?”
“It was hard to tell, but I feel like it made him think, perhaps.”
Mathew nodded his head. “Well, thinking is better than drowning in his emotions at the very least. That poor kid. God tests some of us more than others. I can only hope that he did not push too far this time.” He huffed a bit with amusement. “Even if that is slightly blasphemous to say out loud.”
“I won’t tell,” Daegal said in an attempt to keep up the light mood.
“You better not, because you’re the only one who heard me say it at this point, so if somebody comes to me with a complaint, I’ll know exactly who the little rat was.”
“You’re a bit scary sometimes, you know?”
“I suppose that is highly ironic coming from the likes of you; either that or I'm starting to get old enough to look like death itself. Whatever the case, we’ll give the boy a few hours by himself. You’d best return to your friends for now.”
That sounded like a good idea to Daegal as he had no clue what he was going to do during that time. Fiora and Emil didn’t go very far, and in fact, they were waiting around the corner of the hallway. The two of them were still processing what happened with Osric. Fiora still had red eyes from crying and looked like she was attempting to calm herself down with deep breaths. Emil didn’t show such open emotions, but the stony face he wore was enough to tell that he wasn’t unmoved by what they had all witnessed.
“Daegal,” Fiora greeted him with a slightly exhausted voice. “I guess you stayed behind to say something to Osric? How is he?”
“Hurt, mourning, but I would like to hope that he will still wish to continue living. Even on the brink of death the boy clung to life, and I choose to believe that this will not change.”
“We can only hope that the boy will have the resolve to keep going,” Emil commented. “However, I am worried about another thing concerning Osric.” This captured the other two’s attention immediately. “After all this time I have not heard any mention of a father in the boy’s life. I find this odd at the very least, and it could be indicative of a lack of one entirely.”
Fiora understood before Daegal did. “You mean... he could be orphaned?”
Emil nodded. “Yes, that is a possibility, but we’d have to confirm it with the boy before any conclusions are drawn.”
Daegal didn’t understand the full scope of what was going on, so he asked for a little clarification. “What does it mean to be orphaned? Is that just another way to say alone?”
“Well,” Fiora began, “it kind of does. It mostly means that he doesn’t have any family alive who can look after him. If that’s the case, he will likely end up in the care of the church with other kids like him.”
“That seems better than being by himself at least.”
“It is, but it’s never a replacement for your real family, and the conditions aren’t always the best. If there are a lot of children there, then they won’t always be able to care for them all.”
“Oh... There’s nothing we can do, is there?”
Fiora shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid not. Somebody would have to adopt or assume guardianship over Osric, and my dad and I aren’t in any position to do either of those things right now.”
That was unfortunate, and Daegal felt real pity for the young man. While Osric might not end up completely alone, Daegal did understand how it was to feel isolated after losing the people important to you. There was nothing more that they could do for now, so they decided to have a meal and try to relax for a while until it was time to meet with Osric again.
The meal was delicious, but nobody felt particularly spirited at the moment. Nobody truly wished to resume the conversation surrounding Osric’s deceased mother, but they had no right to complain. Osric needed their support right now, whatever he decided. About two hours had passed, and the group went back to the apothecary room.
Along the way, they ran into Mathew who was waiting in the hallway leading up to his workplace. The older man did not find it necessary to start a conversation. Everyone knew what they were here for, and nobody felt like going over it again. He simply gave a quick nod to the group before turning and leading the way.
When the newly reunited party opened the door, they all turned to Osric’s bed. The kid was no longer buried under his blanket, and in fact, he was sitting up in his bed. Despite his malnourished body making him look like a bundle of twigs held up only by the thin confines of his skin, there was a different air about him now. His face may have had signs of misery written all over it with puffy eyes and streaks of dried tears, but there was a new kind of resolve about the kid that made him seem firm in spite of his body’s fragility.
Mathew approached the lad and kneeled with a slight groan and grumble at having to do the movement so many times today. “Osric, how are you feeling?”
The boy didn’t say anything immediately as silence persisted for several seconds. Just before Mathew was about to continue, Osric finally spoke.
“I want to see my mom.” His little hands clutched at the blanket with all the force his body could muster.
Mathew solemnly nodded his head. “If that is what you wish to do, then we can take you to see her. Perhaps I can convince that eccentric designer my lord keeps around to part with a few articles of clothing for you. You should be presentable for this.”
“I can help with his hair while you do that,” Fiora volunteered.
“Sounds good, Miss Fiora. I’ll be back.” Mathew got up and went to see if he could get those clothes while Fiora took charge.
“Dad, could you get me some water, a rag, and a brush?”
“Sure thing.”
Everybody seemed to be in motion now, except for Daegal. He wanted to help too, and made the desire known.
“Is there anything I could do?”
Fiora looked at him and thought for a second, but it was Osric who beat her to it.
“You’re coming with us, right?” The look on the boy’s face was almost desperate, like he was afraid to go without Daegal. Despite Daegal’s misgivings about going down into the city without the accompaniment of a few dozen soldiers around him to act as a barrier, he couldn’t possibly say no to the boy.
“Of course, I’ll come with you.”
“Thank you! I still can’t walk very well, so you can help carry me. Uhm, please?”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
It was a little humorous that the boy just barely remembered his manners. “I can do that,” Daegal replied reassuringly.
Though he was still very sore from his fight with Greed, the boy barely weighed anything, and he’d have little trouble lifting a fully grown man let alone a child. Fiora got to work on getting Osric’s messy hair in at least a somewhat orderly state. It went better once Emil returned with the requested tools, but Osric hadn’t had a proper bath since he was rescued, only having his body cleaned by Mathew, so that mop of a head was a tangled rat’s nest. She did her best to get everything straightened out, and in the end he had at least a presentable head of hair.
A few minutes after that, Mathew returned carrying a few sets of clothing for Osric to try on. Apparently, the clothing was old attire that was used by the children of the royal family. While out of style and dusty from disuse, the knowledge that princes had used these same clothes at one point made Osric a little nervous about putting them on.
They went through a few sets of clothing, most being too baggy around the skinny boy. In the end, they had to go with a set of clothing that was for someone younger than the kid solely for it to fit, and even then, it looked a little off while draping over Osric’s skeletal frame. Everyone had to shrug and say good enough with the dark blue formal wear they ended up on. When he regained a bit more of his lost mass then clothes would start looking normal on him again.
Despite the kid’s poor condition, he looked nice, sickly, but nice. Mathew nodded in approval at the final product.
“There you are. Now you look like a proper gentleman. It seems we are mostly prepared at this point. Daegal, perhaps you should retrieve your cape, just as a bit of reassurance. People will be less likely to cause problems while you are wearing the mark of the king.”
“Oh, right, that might be a good idea.” Anything he could use to prevent confrontation was welcome in his mind. He took a quick jog to fetch it from his room, though with his arms being in the state that they were, he needed Fiora to help him put it on once he returned. Now that everyone was properly adorned, Daegal gently scoop Osric out of his bed and held the kid in his arms as they walked.
The odd collection of individuals drew some attention from the castle occupants as they gave curious looks. There came a small confrontation once they were out in the courtyard and made it obvious that they were heading toward the exit they were stopped by a few soldiers in the area.
“Hold a moment,” one of them called out as they stopped at a conversational distance. “Are you intending to go down into the city?”
“We are,” Mathew took charge of the conversation. “We were planning to stop by the church as the young man in Daegal’s arms wishes to see his mother before the burial.”
That information softened the expressions on the soldiers’ faces. “My condolences to the lad. However, his majesty Reynard told us that if you wished to go down to the city, we should offer a small escort to you, just to ensure that nobody acts foolishly. If you are amenable to such a proposition, we shall act upon it.”
Daegal would feel a little better to have some of the soldiers around to smooth over problems with other humans. He had a feeling that if he tried to act in opposition to any agitated individuals, it would only make things worse.
“I w-would be glad for the assistance,” Daegal replied.
The guards had a short discussion amongst themselves before two of them were selected. Those two didn’t exactly seem happy about their new duties, but drawing the short straw meant that they were stuck with it. Daegal hoped that they would not have to exercise their authority during this trip.
With that matter settled, the group made for the gate and descended the slope into the city. The streets were so busy during the day that Daegal froze in place as he tried to process it all. It didn’t help that he garnered a lot of attention as people paused what they were doing to stare at him. He could feel the tension steadily rising in his body, but all at once his focus was changed when he felt the small form of Osric press against his chest a little firmer.
Glancing down at the boy, he saw the nervous gaze of the child flickering around the crowd, eyeing everyone as if they were a threat, especially any men. It seemed they were both in the same boat of anxiety, yet Osric did not say anything about giving up or turning back as he kept his face stoic and unflinching. Daegal couldn’t very well let such a small child be braver than him, so he relaxed his body and took the next step, following behind Mathew as the man led the way to the church.
Crowds parted like water around a boulder as Daegal and his party walked the streets. Many whispered conversations were held about his presence, too many for him to pick out the details of any single one. It felt like the village all over again, but on a much larger scale. Thankfully, their journey wouldn’t be much further.
The grand stone church with tall spires, wide arches, and prominent statues of saints and devils alike came into view. It was an impressive structure with many details meticulously put into the construction. What’s more, Daegal could feel a sort of pressure surrounding the building, the likes of which made his steps feel heavy and his hide prickle like someone was looming over his shoulder. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but he couldn’t turn back as they all walked right up to the door.
The sturdy wooden doors were open to all it seemed, as they were pushed aside easily enough. While the doors may have been open that didn’t mean they were welcome, or more specifically, Daegal was not welcome as the priests who were going about their daily tasks inside fell into a frenzy of prayers and warding gestures with their holy tools. None of it had any real effect on him, and any feelings that such actions might have created in him were overshadowed by the constant pressure that came from just being inside the building itself.
“N-No, you cannot bring that creature in here!” a priest yelled out as he attempted to stop the party from proceeding. Before the soldiers could even intervene, Mathew had taken it upon himself to object.
“And why is that exactly?”
“Wha- it’s unnatural! It is an offense to God’s design!”
“If God truly objected, don’t you think he would have prevented Daegal here from entering in the first place, or perhaps even punished such an action? It seems that you and God have differing opinions on the matter, so I suggest you return to your prayers and ask our lord almighty for forgiveness in questioning his will. We are here so this young man may see his mother before she is laid to rest. If you think that you have the moral righteousness to deny the boy this, then you should seriously reconsider your profession.”
The priest, soundly backed into a corner and soundlessly flapping his gums, was brushed aside as Mathew walked by him, prompting the rest of the group to follow. Daegal did catch a slight smirk on the older man’s face, apparently satisfied with his verbal victory. Mathew seemed to know where he was going, either from a previous visit to inquire about Osric’s mom or from his history as an apothecary taking him to places such as this, maybe a combination of the two. Whatever the reason, he led the group swiftly through the magnificently decorated halls and down a flight of stairs into the basement.
It was colder down there, so much so that Daegal shivered and felt like he was standing in the middle of winter again. This underground space served as the mortuary, and Daegal could smell the lingering decay in the air beneath all the incense they burned to hide it. Rows of bodies laid upon tables; all covered with blankets to preserve their modesty for some and make the scene a little less grim.
They moved through the rows, everyone trying not to stare too much at the covered bodies. When Mathew suddenly stopped in front of one of these tables, Daegal felt Osric tense in his arms. He understood what it meant to have stopped here, and even his heart was beating faster as his eyes fell upon the table and the shroud that covered his mother.
“Whenever you are ready, Osric,” Mathew said to him.
Osric shuddered in a way that was unrelated to the temperature of the room as every breath the boy took felt like it required extra effort. After what felt like an eternity of stillness, Osric looked at Mathew and nodded his head; his eyes already starting to become damp with tears. Mathew, taking his cue, reached for the head of the shroud and pealed it away to reveal the woman’s face.
The face of Osric’s mother was a grim sight. Sure, she had been cleaned of the grim and grunge of that dank pit, but the pale, sunken face that lacked all the warmth of life was visceral. This state that the woman was in made her already appear deathly despite the serenity of eternal rest. Osric let out a quiet gasp at being shown her face.
Memories of those dark weeks spent in that cell, feeling so hungry that his belly constantly hurt and listening to the cries of despair from the other occupants flooded through him. Despite the hell they were in together, his mother never stopped smiling at him, never stopped reassuring him, and always put herself between him and the darkness around them. Whenever one of the other people who they shared a cell with was dragged away, or started to succumb to madness, she would move him to the corner and made sure Osric would only be able to see her. No matter what frightening noises or sights she herself must have witnessed, he could only remember seeing her smile.
The tears started flowing freely as he sobbed with shuddering breaths. Osric began to squirm in Daegal’s grasp, pushing away as he tried to reach for his mother. Daegal took the hint and lowered the boy to the ground. He managed to find the strength to stand using the table as support, and he grabbed her arm beneath the shroud, crying into her shoulder.
Everyone watched the sorrowful scene unfolding in front of them. Fiora cried as Emil held her close, his eyes damp with tears as well. Mathew bowed his head, eyes closed, and maintaining a stony expression. He had seen this so many times before, but it was never pleasant. Daegal, though, was the only one who felt a different emotion.
Boiling anger was building inside him as he looked down at Osric who was crying over the corpse of his mother. So much suffering, so much death, and for what? Greed and Envy were responsible for this and so many other tragedies. It reviled him to think that he would have participated in this too if he remembered his past. Whatever had went wrong that left him a blank slate had given him this chance to be different. With jaw locked tight, he set his gaze to the future and made a vow. He would find Envy, and he would kill them too. Perhaps then this nightmare would never come about again.
