Chapter 111: Ritual
It was a high fall, indeed, of flashing lights and blurry sights, of a mountainous sacred presence cuddling him tight like a flustered father coming late in the night, the wind whistling in a mournful rhythm. The tails of his coat flapped and twisted about as Valens guided himself, Selin, and Celme with the Gale, easing them gently through one floor after another.
Then, with a tap, they arrived at the ninth floor, and the pressure of that presence quadrupled right away.
Fixing his hair back, Valens waved away the notification that told him he was in the presence of a Divine. Little was there for him to stare at, since he could just shrug it off. The same wasn’t true for Celme. She stooped like a horse saddled with tons of weight, and breath wheezed weakly out from her lips as she tried not to crumble.
“It’s surprisingly clear,” Valens muttered as he tapped the woman’s back and sent his Lifesurges into her body before peering into the distance. “A lot wider than I expected, too.”
He stepped past the Templar and the undead pair, heard the click of Dain’s boot crushing into the ground behind.
“Blessed Father,” Garran muttered, his armor alive with golden lights, the eyes beneath the slits of his helmet sparkling like two little gems. His shoulders sagged as he stared out into the wide hall. “Thought we’d be getting a warm welcome.”
“It gets lonelier the more you go deep,” Nomad said with a tilt of his head.
“Right,” Garran nodded.
“We’re not alone.” Valens narrowed his eyes as the whispers grew clearer in his mind. He caught the woman’s voice as if she were speaking by his ear, the pulsing of the invisible lines about him impossible to miss. “They’re close. Right there.”
The place he pointed a finger at had rows of pews lined in an orderly fashion, choked by dust and worn with time. Hundreds of them left unattended perhaps for centuries, with a red carpet stretched between them. It led further into the hall, illuminated by the high candelabras adorning the side walls and the ceiling, their internal lights wavering at his gaze.
“I suppose we’re in a church,” Valens said. “A spare one, it seems, for times when the daylight prayer might come across certain complications. This deep, though, I daresay no one can disrupt the duty of the believers.”
“Commitment is one of the virtues, isn’t that right, friend?” Nomad said as he glanced at Garran. “Gotta keep the people in their slumber somehow. That’s what I’ve heard, at least.”