Trails of blood led away from the smashed front door of the orphanage like the long red carpet used to welcome the emperor on official visits. Practically all the ground-floor windows had been smashed open. Dean heard a horrendous sound that shook his heart to its core. It was Layota. The old lady had fallen to her knees and was wailing pitifully in the snow.
Cait approached her, reaching out a hand in an attempt to comfort her. Layota didn't notice and, moving like a puppet, drew a circle in the snow before drawing a line through it. The holy symbol of the Mortian faith.
"The soul is set free from the body. For its journey towards its final cleansing, I offer up my prayer of safe passage and remembrance. Let the soul be cleansed. Let it be renewed. I offer up my prayer of safe passage and hope."
Layota uttered her prayer in a quick, shaking voice that sounded nothing like her. Dean tried to speak his own prayer, but he couldn't find the breath to speak. Not only that, but his teeth were clattering together so violently that any words that left his mouth would probably be incomprehensible.
"You should have expected this," Morgan said gravely. "The orphanage is outside the protected walls and blessed area of the monastery. Of course, it would have been an easy target."
Ignoring his father's words, Dean made his way towards the entrance. Perhaps the situation was worse than it looked. Survivors could still be inside.
"Dean, wait!" Cait called out, stumbling to her feet in the deep snow before reaching him and grabbing his arm.
"You shouldn't see what's inside there. It'll be too much for you!"
Dean violently shook her away and continued on. He didn't care anymore. He just wanted to confirm the tragedy with his own eyes. The children deserved that much. That aside, his mind had been numb since his time in the cell. He was confident he wouldn't feel much of anything, even in the worst case scenario.
It didn't take him long to reach the entrance. He could hear Cait following behind him. If it was going to be so horrid, why did she even bother following him? He turned to face her. Understanding his silent question, she nodded resolutely. She was determined to follow him, no matter what.
The inside of the orphanage was dark, despite it being the middle of the day. Signs of struggle were immediately clear. Tables, chairs, and wall paintings had been thrown about and destroyed. It looked like a storm had raged through the place.
It didn't take them long to find the first few victims. The living room contained a small group, all clustered near the doorway, lying on top of one another. The little girl at the front had her hand stretched out towards the door. Reaching it, even under normal circumstances, would have been difficult at her age.
Dean let out a loud sob and looked away from the scene. He felt Cait's hand on his shoulders but he barely registered it. As expected, the windows had all been smashed open. Without his wanting it, his imagination constructed a scene of what probably happened. The children warming themselves by the fire, playing games as the beasts crashed through the windows. They couldn't get out in time and died filled with terror.
He was wrong. He could still feel something after all. Funny, that.
Dean closed his eyes tightly and clamped his jaw shut. He felt tears roll down his cheeks as he turned away and walked onward, Cait at his side, refusing to remove her hand from his shoulder. She looked sad, but less so for the orphans and more so for him. Her eyes never left him.
What was her problem? Could she not see everything around her? It wasn't right, Dean thought to himself. It just wasn't right.
The kitchen and dining rooms, as well as the classroom. All told a similar story that Dean did his best to avoid looking at. Like a shambling corpse, he wandered, his eyes wide open though he wanted so much to close them.
"We should go back, Dean," Cait pleaded.
"No," he whispered, his voice hollow and coarse.
Every room. He had to check every single room. He had to be sure there were no survivors. He had to be sure. He had to. He had to. A voice.
Dean froze on the spot. Was that Layota and Morgan speaking? No, it was coming from further inside. Without thinking twice, he bolted forward towards the door at the end of the hall.
"Dean, wait!" Cait called out.
The last room on the first floor, the kitchen and dining room, lay behind that door. Yes, the voice was coming from inside. Someone was still alive. He slammed open the door.
The room in question was a wide open space filled with long tables and a separate kitchen area which had a back door. A stairway in the far corner led down to the basement. Dishes and cutlery of various kinds were strewn across the tables, food still sitting upon them. Lined up on the ground were bodies wrapped in cloth, and a single young girl stood in front of them.
"… You are not alone. No matter what end may come, a new beginning is just within reach. Let the Goddess be your guide, for she is kind and caring. Let the Goddess be your guide, for she knows the way…"
It was Joan, her dress covered in blood from head to toe. Her black hair, which had gone uncombed, fared no better, as dried blood caused the strands to stick together.
"J-Joan?" Dean's voice called out.
The girl continued her chant, either not hearing him or ignoring him intentionally. Dean felt a wave of joy and relief so pronounced that he fell to his knees with tears in his eyes. Watching Joan recite the prayers of the departed, he noticed that her hands were in contact with each other, making a circular shape with her fingers. The sign of prayer in the Mortian faith. It was surprising that a girl her age knew the forms and words so well. The prayer she was using was the exact same as the one Loyata was probably continuing outside.
When she had finished, Joan calmly turned to face them. Her pale face marred by flecks of dried blood. She looked up at Dean impassively, as if he had come for a casual visit.
"Hello Dean. Sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to read with you today or make you tea."
Not even a tremble. Her voice was the same as always. Calm and slightly annoyed.
"Joan, are you alright?" Dean asked as he got to his feet and rushed over to her.
Taking hold of her shoulders, he looked directly into her eyes, then examined her for injuries. Thankfully, the blood didn't seem to belong to her.
"I'm fine, just a little tired."
Her casual response left Dean at a loss for words.
"Y-your friends, they-" he swallowed. "They're all gone." he finished, a mad chuckle escaping his mouth.
"I know. That's why I'm preparing them for their next life. Would you mind helping me? There are still many other rooms I haven't gotten to yet."
This time, Dean really couldn't think of anything to say. He released her from his grip and took a step back.
"Why aren't you crying? Why aren't you sad?" he asked, eventually. "You should be devastated by what you've seen!" he yelled, no longer able to hold back his grief and confusion.
Joan tilted her head.
"Why would I be sad? They adhered to the teaching of the goddess, and I'm giving them a proper sendoff. Their next life will be much better if I do this. They might even have parents again. Parents that survive or don't abandon them, that is."
Then Joan smiled. The smile made Dean's heart sink. The girl really believed her words, and her faith allowed her to smile in a place like this. She was truly and utterly terrifying to Dean.
No, she was still a child, and she was alive. He needed to focus on that.
"Joan, we need to get out of here now."
Joan didn't seem to hear.
"You are?" Joan asked.
Dean realised that she was looking past him and right at Cait. Cait, for her part, had also locked eyes with Joan.
Then, inexplicably, Joan rushed forward and grabbed Cait legs in a tight hug. Wordlessly, she remained there as Cait stroked her hair. Did they know each other?
"I'm Cait, and you're Joan, right?"
Joan wordlessly nodded while refusing to let go of Cait. Dean felt his fears soften, if only a little. He looked up at Cait and then nodded. Cait seemed to understand as she looked down at Joan and spoke.
"Joan, we can look after your friends later, but for now we need to leave. Can you please come with us?"
Joan looked up at the older woman with big, wide eyes.
"Do you promise we'll come back here to send the rest of them off?" She asked.
"I promise. Dean will even help us, right Dean?"
Dean wished she hadn't volunteered him so easily. He wasn't sure if he could bear coming back here at all, let alone to help lay the orphans to rest. He knew they needed to be cared for, but every time his mind flashed back to the scenes in the other rooms, his legs went weak.
"Of course I will!" Dean said, thumping his chest and giving the girls a reassuring smile.
He hoped it looked convincing.
"We should get the others before leaving." Joan said as she finally separated from Cait.
"The others?" Dean asked.
Joan nodded.
"Some of the others survived with me. We were able to get into the basement and lock the heavy door before the ice wolves and wood wraiths got to us."
So it was wolves and wraiths, Dean thought to himself. He felt a surge of relief knowing that some of the children, at least, had survived. In fact, he couldn't help but laugh with joy.
"Let's go!" he said, not wanting to waste a single second longer in this place.
As Joan had said, a small group of terrified-looking children were waiting for them down in the basement. They all backed away when he first entered, their wide eyes filled with pure terror, but when they saw who it was, they all rushed forward as a group. Many were crying, and some were smiling, evidently relieved to see an adult.
Dean embraced as many as he could and reassured them that everything would be alright. All the while vowing to himself that he would not let a single bad thing happen to them from here on out.
Among the faces were a few he recognised. There was Mark, who was first to reach him. He shouted Dean's name as he cried. Behind him were Fuelle and Yato, who were sniffling quietly but looking at Dean with joy. Lappi and Riyu held each other while turning their faces away from the door. Dean felt a stab of pain in his heart when he saw their cowering forms. Finally, there was Moke, who was simply staring blankly at him and not reacting to anything he said.
It was clear that some survivors were not dealing with the situation well. He needed to get them out of here and reunite them with Layota. If anybody could help them, it would be her.
"Come on, everyone, let's get you all somewhere safe, yeah?" he said with as many reassurances as he could utter for each child.
When they stepped outside, they found Layota in the same place she had fallen, still deep in prayer. The sound of children's voices made her raise her head, and grief turned to disbelief before settling into an expression of mindless joy. The old lady tried to speak, but her voice failed her.
She scrambled to her feet and, moving swiftly for a woman her age, threw herself into the crowd of children, hugging them tightly.
"I'm so happy for her." Cait said with a wide smile.
Dean nodded with a smile of his own, though slightly more subdued. It was a much smaller group of children than he had hoped for. Still, coming here had been the right thing to do, and he found some solace in that. He had almost given up hope entirely before finding Joan and the survivors. With this, he could keep going.
"You're happy for her? What about you? Do you feel happy for yourself, Miss Cait?" Joan asked, looking up at Cait.
Cait's smile faltered for a moment.
"What do you mean?" She asked curiously.
Joan bit her lip as she considered her next words.
"I don't know, but it feels like you're only happy because Layota is happy. Back in the orphanage, you were only sad because Dean was sad."
Joan was now looking right at Cait. Her tone and expression weren't malicious, but neither were they kind. They almost sounded clinical, as if Cait was a strange creature to figure out.
"I'm not sure what you mean?" Cait said, tilting her head in confusion.
"Come on, Joan, leave her be for now," Dean said. "I know she's a little weird, but you don't have to rub it in her face."
"I'm not weird!" Cait cried.
Dean forced an easygoing smile onto his face, which seemed to do a lot to dispel Cait's ire. In a way, he agreed with Joan. Cait certainly was an enigma and acted odd from time to time, but she always seemed to put others first, and she had done a lot for Dean. She didn't deserve the suspicion that was placed on her one bit. Also, he believed that Joan might have been the pot calling the kettle black.
Dean took a moment to look around. Layota was still busy with the children while Joan and Cait chatted with each other. There was something missing.
"Where's that father of mine?" Dean muttered quietly.
He scanned the trees and the windows of the orphanage but saw no sign of the man.
"Mother Layota, have you seen my father anywhere?" Dean asked, walking up to the old lady.
Layota looked up at him, her relieved smile fading somewhat.
"Duke Kasanagh?" She asked. "He was here a…"
She trailed off for a moment as she looked around quickly.
"Dean, dear, I'm sorry. I was not paying attention at all. I was-"
"It's fine, it's fine. I ain't going to croak that easily," came a voice from behind them.
Morgan stood at the entrance of the orphanage, a large sack hanging over his shoulders.
"Don't tell me you lot forgot the other reason we came all this way?" he asked as he plopped the sack down in front of him.
Dean and the others peered into the opening and saw a variety of foodstuffs inside: bread, cheese, and some smoked meat.
"With this we won't starve for a while. Dean lad, there's two more sacks just outside the kitchen, you go in and grab them."
Dean nodded and began walking inside. Cait tried to follow him but was stopped by Morgan.
"No need for you to go as well, young lady. Women shouldn't have to bear witness to such a sight any more than necessary. Let us men handle this."
"But I want to go with him!" Cait protested.
Dean hesitated a moment. He didn't necessarily agree with his father's words. It was beyond clear that Cait was far less troubled by the violence inside than even he was.
"I think she can handle it," Dean said to his father, earning him a grateful smile from Cait.
"We're going in alone." Morgan said, giving him a meaningful look.
Of course. His father had something he wanted to discuss in private. Knowing that it was probably better to get this out of the way now.
"I'm just going to the kitchen. I'll be back in a quick moment," he said, turning to Cait. "Can you look after Layota and the kids for me while I'm gone?"
Cait looked a little upset, so he continued on.
"Please, I'm trusting you with their safety. Don't let anything bad happen to them, alright?"
Cait swallowed, forcing the despondent look from her face and nodding. Dean smiled and thanked her before turning and going back inside the orphanage. He didn't feel at all good about going back, but there was no other choice.
As they took the sacks in their hands, his father looked at him.
"Keep a close eye on those two. Cait and the small, black-haired child. There's something not quite right about them."
Child? Did he mean Joan?
"What on earth gave you that impression? I thought you were friendly with all women, even the snakes and vipers," Dean responded mockingly.
"Oh, there's no problem with a dangerous woman in a place of comfort, but things aren't exactly going well here, and we're gonna need to stay on her toes. Not sayin' you need to abandon them or anything, just keep an eye out, that's all. I'm trusting my instincts when I tell you this, lad/"
Dean couldn't keep his anger from flaring up at his father's words, but they didn't have much more time to talk privately, so he let it go.
"Have you been keeping an eye on Marianne?" Dean asked.
Morgan looked at him as if he had just made a confusing joke and didn't understand.
"Lad, I've been keeping an eye on that one for the better part of thirty years."
"And do you think she has anything to do with all this?"
Morgan made a complicated expression as he hoisted the bag onto his shoulders.
"I think that if she were plotting something, then it's after blowing up in her face. Don't think she's worth worrying about now."
Dean wanted to ask more, but Morgan simply gestured towards the exit.
"Let's just worry about survin' ye?"
They hauled the remaining food out in no time at all. Dean was sure to keep his eyes dead straight as they passed the living room and sighed with relief once they stepped outside.
Cait wasted no time in running up to him the moment he stepped outside.
"Are you alright?" she asked in a hurry.
"Never better," Dean replied with false bravado.
It was clear that his words weren't convincing, as she scrutinised him carefully before stepping back.
"Well, let's make our way to the library then." Morgan said. "Lad, you grab two of the sacks, will you?"
"I can carry one!" Cait volunteered.
"No need to trouble yourself. They're quite heavy and the lad could use a little more muscle!"
Finishing his sentence with a loud laugh, Morgan turned away and set a pace followed by Layota and the children.
Dean looked at the two sacks with a complicated expression. Damn his father for targeting his pride directly. Now he wouldn't be able to refuse.
"Your father doesn't have much respect for women, does he?" Joan asked, watching Morgan as he walked away.
"You don't know the half of it." Dean responded with exasperation.
"I really don't mind, you know. Please, let me help." Cait said, stepping forward.
"No, no. I got it," Dean grunted as he pulled the two sacks over his shoulders. He wasn't physically weak by any stretch of the imagination. His father had hired fighting instructors for him since a young age. Even so, there was a lot of food in the sacks. More than the one his father had chosen to carry, he would have wagered.
"Dean-" Cait said with a very concerned expression.
"I'm F-fine." Dean grunted.
The sacks were heavy, and he actually wasn't sure if Cait could have lifted one of them. It had nothing to do with her gender. She had been down in the catacombs for a long time and had apparently not eaten much of anything. This was evident in her appearance: her pale, bony hands and narrow shoulders would not do well lifting something heavy. If anything, Joan would have had a better time of it, and there was no chance he was asking a child to help him.
Dean struggled to keep up with Morgan as they made their way back. Thankfully, both Joan and Cait made sure to keep pace with him. The two started discussing their favorite books soon after leaving the orphanage. Dean thought they looked just like a pair of sisters, as both had long black hair and pale skin. Even so, he had no idea how the two of them could engage in casual conversation after everything they'd been through. They showed actual strength. Not the kind that was needed to lift something heavy, but the ability to get through horrible things where any regular person would just give up. In a way, they were stronger than he was.
His eyes constantly scanned the surroundings for danger, and every time he closed his eyes, scenes from the cell and the orphanage flashed in his mind. He was almost thankful for the burden on his back since it distracted him from his thoughts, if only a little.
Once again, their journey proved surprisingly uneventful. Because of their burdens, it took a lot longer than the initial journey to the orphanage. Dean wondered how so much damage could be done in such a short time, only for everything to be so peaceful now. If not for the corpses he had seen today he would have suspected that everyone had simply gotten up and left. Well, he wasn't going to question it and potentially ruin their good luck.
The library building was almost the same size as the Cathedral and more fortified to boot, with no ground-floor windows and the upper floors only having arrow slits. The large wooden doors took the effort of all of them to open, with the help of some enthusiastic children, of course.
The library seemed dead quiet as they made their way into the large, open entrance hall. The center of the building was left open, allowing one to see all the way up to the very top, where a large roof window allowed light to enter.
"Strange," Morgan muttered. "The rest don't seem to have gotten here yet."
Dean felt a chill that wasn't related to the cold outside. The guesthouse was much closer to the library than the orphanage. Assuming they met no interruptions, it would have made sense for Matin's team to get back first.
"Shouldn't we go look for them?" Layota asked.
Morgan immediately shook his head.
"No need to panic. Let's give them a little more time. Perhaps they're carrying more than they can handle."
Dean wasn't so sure. He felt a deep urge to head straight out and go find them. This, combined with his desire to find Addi, made him feel particularly restless. It was all he could do to sit still. That, coupled with the fact that if he stopped, memories from the orphanage were likely to fill his mind. He really didn't have any other options.
"If you pray to the Goddess, I'm sure she'll take your worries to heart," Joan was saying to Cait.
"You think I should p-pray?" Cait asked uncertainly.
"Of course! The Goddess hears all, and if you are good, she'll surely grant your wishes!"
Dean suppressed a small chuckle. They hadn't been sitting down five minutes, and Joan was already preaching to Cait. He honestly wondered where Layota had gotten the girl from.
"I-I think everything will be ok as long as I don't leave his side." Cait explained.
Dean realised she was talking about him.
If she was shy or ashamed about it, she did little to hide it, as he was clearly within earshot. Dean looked closely at her. He would have been very thick indeed if he hadn't realised she had an interest in him. She had pretty much done everything but tie a rope around his neck and drag him away.
She was pretty. Even her time underground had done little to diminish that. He could easily see himself pursuing her romantically if he had met hr in the captial under normal circumstances. At this point, all he had to do was ask. Yet he had this strange feeling that something was missing and, more to the point, now was not a good time.
There was little room for romance when you were busy trying to survive. Although he had heard about people getting close rather quickly in dangerous situations, so perhaps that was playing a part in her behavior. Then there was the fact that she was chasing him and not the other way around. He was not at all used to that kind of treatment.
"You shouldn't stare at people so much, you know?" Joan said with disapproval.
Dean's mind snapped back to reality, and he realised he had probably been looking at Cait a bit too much. Cait, for her part, was openly smiling back at him and seemed to be enjoying the attention. She even gave him a little wave.
"Why are you smiling?" Joan asked her. "I really don't understand you, you know."
"Smiling?" Cait asked back, giving Joan a confused look.
Joan let out a long sigh.
"Come on, I'll give you some holy scriptures to read. That should cleanse your mind for the time being." Joan said as she got to her feet and grabbed Cait's hand.
Cait resisted for a moment, looking pleadingly at Dean. He pretended not to notice and watched as the poor girl was dragged off to her conversion session.
"Best of luck to you, Cait." he whispered.
Noticing that he was now standing in the entrance hall alone, he took a deep breath but found his chest to be tight. It was difficult to maintain outward control at the moment, and once the girls had left his line of sight, his easygoing expression fell from his face. He walked over to a nearby bench and took a seat.
His mind filled with memories of the catacombs and the orphanage. He thought of Nicolas and Maira, who had died while he languished in that prison cell. He remembered the times they had spent at the orphanage, helping Layota with the children. Those days would never come again, and it made his stomach twist into knots. Part of him wished they had encountered some beasts or monsters on their trip back, if only to let him relieve some stress.
"You're good for trying to stay positive when around them, but you shouldn't be keeping it all inside."
Dean turned to find Layota looking down at him with a kind smile. Too late, he realised that tears were freely falling down his cheeks and made haste to rub them away.
"Mother, I-" He took a deep breath and put a smile on his face. "If you can move that silently, you should have joined the emperor's personal assassins."
Layota looked at him and shook her head.
"You don't have to force a smile when I'm around, dear. I can only imagine what you saw in that building."
Layota's voice grew frail, and her face darkened. Dean knew that his pain must pale in comparison to how she felt. When he said as much, Layota slowly shook her head.
"Pain is pain, dear. There's no use comparing it. All we can do is endure it and support each other along the way. Trust me, I've lived long enough to learn that lesson many a time."
Layota then sat down next to him while placing a comforting arm on his shoulder. The closeness surprised him, but he didn't move away. Keeping the smile on his face became impossible, so he let it drop.
Neither spoke for some time. Dean was too afraid to speak, as doing so would likely break the dam that was holding everything back. He noticed tears were trickling down Layota's cheeks as well, though her grip on his shoulder did not falter in the slightest.
After a few minutes, he finally gave up and let his genuine emotions out. He cried then, his sobs very audible to anyone nearby. Layota didn't say anything but continued to stay by his side even long after the tears ran dry.
An entire day passed with no sign of the other group. Dean's sleep that night was an utterly awful experience. Whenever his consciousness drifted off, scenes from the orphanage came crashing into him. Scenes of children screaming and dying, along with the dead faces of Nicolas and Maria, looking at him as if he had betrayed them. When he awoke, his breath was short and his limbs felt numb. He felt dizzy and disorientated. And he was not the only one. Many of the children cried during the night, and both Layota and Cait stayed up tending to them. His father, on the other hand, snored loudly throughout the night, oblivious to what was going on around him. He had only stayed awake long enough to cover his lookout shift.
Dean stared towards the entrance of the library, gripping the tablecloth he had used as a blanket tightly in his hands. He wanted nothing more than to see that door open. To see Matin and Rosetta appear on the other side, alive.
"They're not likely to come back at this rate," his father had told him earlier. "Going out now would be a fool's errand."
Everyone else had agreed. Well, everyone else but Cait. But he could see it in her eyes that the idea of him going out terrified her.
He held himself back. It was difficult, but he stayed under his covers and tried to control his breathing. The night seemed utterly endless. The darkness smothering him.
Morning came, and by that stage, everyone but Dean had given up on Matin's party. Going out to get supplies could not have taken them so long. They would just have to accept it and make do with what they had. So said Morgan, who had taken charge of the survivors. No surprise there, really. The man was used to ordering others about.
The children were subdued and rarely made any sound. Joan and Cait continued to talk to each other, with Cait sometimes casting glances towards Dean now and then. He didn't attempt to approach them but gave her a reassuring smile whenever he could. All the while, Dean continued to gaze toward the front entrance.
It was early the next morning when he finally couldn't take it anymore. Getting up quietly so as not to wake the others, he slowly made his way downstairs towards the front entrance.
They had been staying on the second floor since it was more easily defended and had a large number of furniture to use.
Dean approached the front entrance. At last he could do something. He would rather get himself killed than spend another moment sitting around being tortured by his own memories.
He slowly opened the front door, only slightly so that he could slip through. It required some effort, and he was worried the noise would wake someone up. Thankfully, it opened with little noise. As he slipped through, he finally noticed a presence by his side.
He turned his head to find Cait standing there next to him, eyes forward, looking towards the outside.
"How long have you been there?" He snapped.
Cait's eyes widened as he asked her, shocked to have been asked such a question. Her mouth flapped uselessly for a while before she spoke.
"S-since the stairs?" she whispered back.
"Go back to sleep. I'm just… going to the bathroom."
"But there's a lavatory on the first floor, isn't there?" she asked.
Dean bit his lip as he searched for an answer. He had been caught holding the door open and struggled to keep his weight on it.
"I like the feeling of fresh air when I… you know," he muttered.
"When you… what?" She asked, looking genuinely curious.
Dean's paranoia about waking the others eventually became too much, and he stepped outside, allowing Cait to come along with him.
"Never mind. You'd probably just follow me anyway, even if I said no."
Cait didn't give any response and wordlessly followed him. Was she following him while thinking he was going to go to the bathroom? He hoped not. Surely she could see what he was really up to and had decided to follow him. That must have been it.
He felt for the lythment on his back and gazed out over the courtyard. The morning's first light was just beginning to illuminate the white landscape. Thankfully, the snow seemed to have eased somewhat, and he could just about make out the distant buildings. His first destination was the cathedral. He wanted to look for Addi first since she'd been missing for longer than Matin's party.
Both Cait and Dean made their way towards the large building, completely unaware of the small figure following them from a distance.