Chapter 71: Hear
“Hear…” the Bishop croaked, trembling over the chair like a withered husk of wrinkled flesh, wide eyes staring at Valens, dark veins squirming underneath the skin of his cheeks. “Hear…” he wheezed, and it seemed the more he looked at Valens, the more he stooped under an invisible weight.
“Hexmender, quick!” Mas roared. He sprang forward around the broken bits of the table, golden plates rattling, and supported the Bishop’s head from the back with a gentle hand. “Witch, I told you to be quick!”
Lenora was rubbing her neck, blood trickling from between her fingers, eyes squinted at the Bishop as if there was something only she could see through the man’s face. She tapped a finger to her locket, then moved, wincing, toward the old man.
The others came to themselves at the bellow of the zealous Templar. With a quick look from the captain, Garran began to advance across the room, heavy boots thumping against the ground. He demanded, not so gently, for them to empty the study, and when the lawyer hesitated for a second, he got a little tap on the back which pushed him nearly flying out from the stone doors.
Dain was waiting for them outside. They exchanged a silent glance before Garran closed the doors shut. There was only Valens left from the group now. Valens and the Templars, with Lenora standing by the Bishop and gazing into his face.
“What is happening right now?” Valens said as he moved over to Captain Edric. It occurred to him after the Bishop’s sudden burst of madness that perhaps standing beside the captain would give him something other than his hands to work with.
“Burden of the past,” the captain said, voice heavy. He scowled when Lenora laid a hand on the Bishop’s head. He frowned when her fingers trailed gently across the man’s face. He closed his eyes as she began whispering words into the Bishop’s ear. “The fate that awaits us Templars beyond the reaches of our mind. A terrible fate that belongs to us all.”
He drew back toward the side wall, leaned his shoulder against the cold stone, and stood there staring at the Bishop deep in thought. Valens lost the heart to bother the man with more questions when he saw the look on his face. Fear so stark against the man he came to know during the short time since they’d met.
“It’s the trial,” Garran said as Lenora’s whispers echoed about the study. When Valens gave him a look, the Templar nodded in quick, painful acceptance. “The burden of the past. The 4th Trial of the Sun's Class-Path. A war against the deeds of the past, fought inside one’s mind, often in pure, deep darkness. They say you never know when it’ll end, and the longer it drags on, the deeper you sink into the shadow of your heart.”
Is that the reason why I felt that sudden spike in his Resonance? The gaps were too stark in his otherwise strong rhythm. I thought him sick, but turns out he was truly fighting against his own demons.
“A war against your own mind?” Valens frowned. “Is there ever an end to such a war? We all fight against ourselves every day, do we not?”
“We do. That’s why I’ve told you the longer it drags on, the deeper you’ll sink into the mud. That’s the price of treading the path of the Blessed Father. You can only move on if you make peace with the person you’ve become,” Garran said grimly. “The Bishop was a Level 400 Dawnkeeper when I met him. I was a child back then, still a disciple in the Brotherhood. You hear stories about men like him, but you only believe them when you put a face on those tales.”