Hands knotted together tightly, Desdemona shot Broom a grateful look. Thank you, she mouthed, hoping sight was a sense the dark somehow did not possess.
But she knew better.
How long, now until the darkness smothered her when she was least prepared? Would her own shadow throttle her in her sleep? What would the others think when they found her, eyes bugged and tongue black, fingers in claws to drag at nonexistent hands -
Smiling her faintly brittle smile, her armor against the world inside as well as out, she looked after Rostam in the dark.
He had gone willingly. Ignorance, or something... forgive the term, darker? There was that moving thing under his skin... maybe the darkness had found a way to manifest physically. Maybe, even now, it was devouring his mind, leading him to black oblivion.
What would happen when he belonged fully to the dark?
A cold sweat touched her brow, and she backed away from the door, not touching the rope. Instead, she held up her rose-hued glowing dagger, and lit the room.
To those outside the room, Debis just continued to sob and call for help. To Rostam, the cries got louder and louder the further he traveled into the dark, until all he could hear was the young boy. His head was so full of the cacophony of begging and crying that he could barely think straight.
Though he could feel everything around him well enough to move confidently through the space, Rostam didn't see the little body coming. It thumped onto his shoulder and back like it had fallen off the ceiling, and sharp little teeth bit down hard into the aasimar's neck.
Rostam felt his strength ebb with the biting child's attack.
Rostam stepped back and struck with his spear.
"It's a vampire or something!" shouted Rostam. "Pull me out!
John gives a heave on the rope!
It was true, then. The darkness had called Rostam into a trap! And now it was devouring him.
Desdemona shuddered, her fingers brushing the toy she had tucked into her belt. With surprise, she glanced down at it, then back at the dark room.
"Debis, please, leave the man alone. I've brought your toy for you - a wonderful knight!" she tried. "I'll take you to your brother, just please, stop hurting Rostam!"
ETA:
Aw.
Using the rope, they were able to yank Rostam out of the room. The aasimar felt the weight on his back disappear as they neared the door. In spite of its sobbing and piteous, desperate calls for help, Debis didn't seem willing- or able?- to leave the supernaturally dark room.
Debis also didn't respond to Des's offer, and just kept calling for his brother to relight the lantern. Throughout the entire foray into the room, only Rostam noticed the voice getting loud enough to blot out everything else- for those outside the room Debis's sobbing and calling remained at the same level.
"Maybe we go talk to the brother," Reine suggested. "Probably don't bring him here, but he might know something we can use."
Thinking of the lantern the boy had held at night, Desdemona looked down at the toys in her hand... and nodded slowly.
"We'll have to tell him his brother is... gone." She sighed, but seemed determined to carry through.
But that didn't stop her from keeping a good distance to Rostam once he was out. Who knew what had gotten inside him, in there?
Or what had gotten out.
Rostam shook himself. "It...weighed on me. Like a nightmare. I don't know what it was. Certainly it's not his brother, not any more."
He pawed at the wound, in an awkward spot on the trapezoids between his broad shoulders. "Can you see it? It stings like something with very sharp teeth."
"Maybe we just need to bring in that lantern," Xander suggests. "We can come back."
The group trekked back to the chapel, climbing back through the broken window, walking down the interior hallway and crossing the reception hall to reenter through the formerly haunt-blocked door. It didn't take long, even moving quietly and watchful for danger.
While it had seemed like their foray had taken hours, or even days, it was still early 'morning' for the chapel refugees. Breakfast was still being cleaned up and some folks were still asleep. The children were with Tolman Leolies, quietly doing crafts in the former chapel office.
Rostam checked in with guards and sentries, informing them of the passages they had cleared and the dangers they had eliminated...and of possible ways any number of things could get in.
"I suppose we should talk to her brother now," said Rostam reluctantly, and led the way to the creche of kids with Tolman.
Desdemona steeled herself. She wasn't entirely sure if this was the same reality in which she had previously comforted the boy, but she saw no way to deal with any reality in which she couldn't take some things as they came.
Finding Brenton, she quietly asked Tolman for a moment with the boy.
Bending to Brenton's eye-height - not a great feat for the diminutive woman - she paused, trying to decide what to say, and what to spare him.
"Brenton, I went to your room and found these toys," she finally said, giving him the toy knights. "I think your brother would have wanted you to have them both. Brenton, Debis is... no longer with us."
She crouched and gave the boy a hug. "We can't bring him back here, but we can make sure he's at peace. Would it be all right to give him your shadow lantern? I think he would like that, a light to guide him in Pharasma's realm."
Miniel hasn't had much to do, but she helps bring the body of the deceased Mrs. Freeling back with them. She's not quite sure what to do with it once they get back, though.
Rostam watched as Desdemona spoke with the boy, and kneeled down next to them, his halo glowing.
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Brenton was a quiet boy, but he had been coming out of his shell with Tolman and another child to play with. As Desdemona described the situation, he seemed to shrink, curling into a ball around the shadow lantern he never let go. "He... he told me to run and not look back. I... I could hear him shouting when the... when the men caught him, but I didn't turn around. I just, I just ran until I couldn't run anymore and I... I hid." The little boy started to cry and Desdemona could feel his little body shuddering as she hugged him.
"Debis can't sleep without his lantern. He's afraid... afraid of the dark. Thinks there are monster... monsters." Brenton's eyes were shut tight and he was weeping now, openly and unashamed like only children do.
"If... if you think you can... can help him. You should... you should take it. He... he can't sleep without it." Brenton cracked his eyes open to look up at Desdemona and the knights, still crying so hard he could barely get the words out. "You're gonna... you're gonna help him, right?"
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Desdemona stroked Brenton's hair comfortingly. "We'll do everything we can to make sure he rests peacefully," she promised. "You're a very brave boy, Brenton, and I know you love your brother - and that he loved you, too. He will always be with you, as long as you remember him."
She held him for a while longer before extricating herself, speaking a word to Tolman about his loss before passing the child's lantern to Reine.
We promise, she mouthed to Brenton as she faded back with the others.
Reine took the lantern without a word. Her expression, as she looked at the heartbroken - and clearly guilt-ridden - Brenton was not angry. It wasn't pitying, either, nor extraordinarily comforting, other than in her lack of anger.
Eventually, she sighed, and whatever complex swirl of emotion she'd been at the center of seemed to settle with that exhalation.
"We've promised," she said, "Shall we go put a little boy's soul to rest?"
"Let's take the lantern and see if it has some affect on the darkness." John says, leading the way.
Rostam nods and follows John.
After dealing with Mrs. Freeling's body, Miniel heads back and follows along with the others, a grim look on her face.
Broom brushed away a grey tinged tear as she watched Desdemona comfort Brenton. Having someone that was always there, close to you suddenly not be there any more was a scary thought to them.
She puttered around a bit cleaning and fixing things. She took out the lantern that they had found suspended in time and lit it before giving it to Brenton "It isn't as fancy as your lantern, but you can have this one until we get back if you want."
She left the lantern for him to take if he was so inclined before joining the group. She was a little introspective, considering everything that had happened in the last few days. "Why can't We fix people with Our magic?" she asked, suddenly breaking the silence. She was looking at Xander though the question seemed to be open to anyone. "We can fix wood, stone, clothes. Even bones when they aren't inside someone. We can fix people who are already dead, but fixing a dead person doesn't bring them back to life, and when they are alive, Our magic doesn't mend their wounds. Why is that?"
”Some can,” conceded Rostam, ”but the mind and the soul...sometimes it is best for things to proceed naturally, however for good or ill.”
Xander is happy to expound to Broom as they walk back. Although he doesn't remember much, he does seem to feel that he has a history of enjoying explaining things to people, though few ever listen. "Magic is a tool, like a hammer. A hammer can be very useful for constructing a house-frame, for example, or a ladder. But it isn't appropriate to make or fix a lantern, like the one the child has given us. The right tool for the right job. The magic of some can heal wounds, perhaps even resurrect the dead. The right magic, the right caster, even, for the right job." He performs a few minor tricks (via cantrip) making various coins appear and disappear as they walk. "I suspect that much of your magic is based on principles similar to my own. Yet there are spells that come to you that I may never master, and vice versa."
The party returned to the dayroom through eerily quiet halls. Even the thunder that sometimes sounds like voices and the ghastly screeching outside seemed to have subsided while the survivors tried to set the little boy's soul to rest. Sickly yellow light flooded the large, empty room but couldn't touch the darkness Rostam had bravely entered not long ago.
"One of us needs to go in there, I think. With the lantern."
Broom fell silent as she pondered Rostam and Xander's words. Could the reason We can't fix live things is because they have a soul or spirit? That was strange, but it did fit. But why would a spirit not want its body to be fixed? Or more specifically, why would it only allow its body to be fixed by only a certain type of magic?"
Her thoughts were interrupted when they finally arrived at the darkness again. With the lamp lit up and the scene dancing across the room, a sudden though occurred to her
"Oh! The lantern's pattern shows knights, maybe we should offer those knight toy with the lamp."
Desdemona hadn't answered Broom's question - not so much because she didn't know the answer as because the question itself was so fascinating, she had been entirely distracted with puzzling it out. She had nodded slowly at Xander's explanation, though she thought there could be hidden secrets that changed the rules...
...But she was brought back to reality when they reached Debis' room once more. "I gave the toys to Brenton," she explained to Broom. "But the spirit complained of the dark only. Let's see if the lantern will suffice to set it to rest, before we try to take the boy's last keepsakes of his brother's."
"OK then," Reine said, "I'll go. We'll do the rope-around-the-waist thing again. I don't particularly feel like being eaten by a nightmare." She held out her hand to Broom to accept the shadow lantern from the smaller woman.
John will take rope duty again, prepared to haul the lantern-bearer back out into the light if things go south.
Lantern in hand, and rope around her waist, Reine gave John a "don't screw this up" look, and a slightly incongruent "I trust you, let's get this done" nod. Then she stepped to the doorway into blackness. She took a moment to ensure that the lantern projected the knights directly into the dark. Then, Reine concentrated for a moment.
To the others, Reine seemed to fade from view. But in the time it took them to blink and look again, she had returned. The tall woman dropped a harrow card that had appeared in her hand.
Reine stepped into the darkness. On the floor behind her, the smoke-filled eyesockets of a bodak glared out from the card known as The Lost, before it faded out of existence.
At first, nothing seemed to change. The darkness remained untouched by the light and little boy continued crying and calling for his brother. After a moment, though, Reine noticed she could actually see. The shadow lantern slowly pushed away the unnaturally thick darkness- not quite dispelling it, the way light should, but shouldering it aside.
It looked like an explosion had torn the room apart. Furniture- tables and chairs and even heavy couches, racks of blunt weapons, padded restraints, and glass lamps lay shattered and scattered to the corners of the room. The walls were bare and and room’s center was perfectly open. Standing there was a tiny figure, looking like a small sculpture of shredded charcoal drawings and scraps of bedding and hospital gown. Or it would have looked like a sculpture if it hadn't been moving. It sat in the middle of the room with its back to the door- and Reine- weeping and sobbing with its arms around its knees.
The little figure seemed to notice the light at the same time Reine registered it. The little head- made of torn strips of drawing paper with streaky charcoal features- turned to look at Reine. "Brenton?
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"He's safe," Reine told the poppet before her, her voice oddly gentle, with no trace of the anger that normally drove her. She knelt down on one knee, bringing herself closer to the poppet's level. She set the lantern down carefully on the floor between them.
[b]"You told him to run, and to hide. He did that, and found safety. There are others with him, protecting him now. He remembers his brother, brave and strong, and together, forever, will two knights ride together in his memories. You have done well, Debis. Rest, now."
Rostam stood quietly, waiting for Reine to emerge, listening.
Broom held her breath as Reine entered the darkness. She strained to hear anything within, waiting nervously for Reine to cry out as the little monster that attacked Rostam likewise assaulted her.
After a moment or two, she breathed a sigh of relief as there was no indication of violence.
The strange little cobbled-together body reached out to touch the lantern with claws of cloth and paper. It looked up at her for a moment before giving her the tiniest of nods and in spite of the immutability of the drawn-on charcoal eyes she thought she could read relief in the creature's expression.
Animated scraps of paper and sheets slumped to the floor in a disorderly pile as the unnatural darkness suddenly disappeared. Debis, it seemed, was gone on to his eternal reward.
"So was it another haunted thing?"
"Seems like, yes." Moving into the room, Miniel says her customary prayers for the dead, wishing the poor boy's soul eternal rest in the arms of the Dawnflower. Looking around, she asks, "So...should we press on, or go back and let them know? There were some other rooms back near the administrator's office that we haven't explored yet either."
Desdemona knelt by the pool of discarded paper and cloth. She reached out to touch the pile lightly, her fingers hovering as she peered at the remains, trying to make sense of it all.
Then she rose, and shook her head. "Brenton is already grieving Debis, and the rest of them will learn of it soon enough. I believe we should press on. Perhaps we will find some clue in all this madness that proves the key to our escape."
"Goodbye, Debis," she said more quietly, still looking at the pile of scraps. "May Pharasma judge you kindly."
All the while, her shadow slithered like a living thing behind her, slowly tracing over the wreckage of the room.
The wreckage of the room held little of interest. Broken furniture and debris mixed with the assorted detritus of a staff break room and more sets of orderly padded armor and truncheons. The main feature of interest were the sets of double doors at either end of the room- those behind the survivors and those ahead.
With the darkness dispelled, Broom tentatively took a step into the room surveying the wreckage with dismay. After Desdemona said her little prayer, Broom unfolded a square of cloth from the janitor closet and carefully placed the little pile of scraps that was Debis onto it before tying it in a neat little package. "If this is all that is left of him We feel like he should be buried properly. His soul might already be gone but it seems like the right thing to do."
Grey tinged tears welled in her eyes as she reflected on the tragedy that had happened to the little boy. "This used to be a good place, where people helped fix broken minds. But now it is just a place of sorrow and misery."
"I don't know that this was ever a good place. It'll be best when we figure out how to get ourselves free of it, once and for all." John replies to Broom.
"Let's try these doors to the north." he suggests.
John approaches the door to the north and listens for clues as to what lies beyond.
"At least we now know a pattern," says Rostam. "Each haunted soul is a puzzle to be solved. Perhaps we are as well, eventually."
"We've probably extended ourselves far enough for now," Reine disagreed with John. "Who knows what this haunt might have been keeping at bay beyond those doors? And we've got uncleared spaces behind us. If we range further ahead, get hurt, and then risk getting ambushed by something between here and the chapel while we're retreating and nursing wounded?" She shook her head. "We should see if we can lock or block those doors closed until we're sure there's nothing behind us that needs killing."
Xander is truly perplexed by the remains of Debis. Is this an artifact of the child's mind, or of the lantern, or of this place? He really hates puzzles that have no clear answer.
As for the issue at hand: "I must concur with Reine. We need to make sure there is nothing behind us before we continue forward."
"The further area we clear, the safer the 'colony' is," says Rostam, agreeing. "We still don't know where we are or why--each room may hold a clue."
"If we are concerned about things that might get to the chapel, there are all those rooms by the administrator's office. We never did find out what was leaving that slime trail." said Broom as she wiped away the tears.
"I must admit, now that the visceral nature of it is no longer a surprise, the source of the slime is an interesting question," Desdemona agreed, subdued but not crying. She stayed close by Broom as they moved on to the next location, more comfortable with the odd woman than any of the others - a thought which prompted her to definitely not look at Rostam and Reine, currently the people she'd known the longest.
Instead, her gaze fell on Adelar, who had been very quiet since the great horrid creature had nearly killed him. She wondered if she should speak some word of encouragement... but in truth, she could think of none with the ring of sincerity. This was a terrible place to be trapped.
But then, I'm trapped no matter where I go, she thought bitterly.