10. Communion Beach, Part 1

Deerin Azary

Class: Ghost Whale Cleric

Vim: +2

Vigour: -2

Vitality: -2

Vision: +3

Vanity: -1

Equipment:

None

Attributes:

-Halfdead

Ghost Whale Miracles:

-Spout

-Swim the Beyond

-Song of Rejuvenation

-Awaken Ghost: Lampfish

-Teeth of the Whale

-Poltergeist

Advanced GW Miracles:

-Song of Astrayness

Morning was beginning to stir.

Rosalyn sat outside the Chapel of the Mysticet, watching from the sidelines as a group of Fogport Police Officers grabbed hold of Deerin Azary, still unconscious in his chains, and loaded up into a large wagon bound for Brumehold Prison, just on the Southeast edge of the Island. Catherine was chatting with some of the other officers, laughing about the night’s events while they mimicked fight moves… but Rosalyn just stared at Deerin’s body, and couldn’t help but just feel sad.

“Hey! Roz!” Catherine said jubilantly as she trotted over to Rosalyn, who was sitting somberly on a small rock by the Chapel. “What are you looking so glum for? We caught the guy! He’ll spill his guts in Brumehold, and with good luck Elliott will be back in his bed by tonight!” Catherine squealed.

Rosalyn didn’t reciprocate. “I hope so Catherine. I hope so.”

Catherine raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? He wouldn’t stop talking about Elliott in there, obviously he knows where he is. He tried to kill you, Roz.”

“I know, I know, I just… I mean, maybe I’m just used to mystery’s like this being a bit harder to crack, is all. You’re right, I should be happy.” Rosalyn said, forcing a smile as she stood up from her seat. “I AM happy. Elliott’s coming home safe, after all.”

“That’s the spirit! Now you should head back to my apartment. It’s almost morning now, so you’re probably exhausted.” Catherine said, giving a hearty slap on Rosalyn’s shoulder. “I’d come with you, but I gotta get Deerin booked in at Brumehold. And then, the interrogation begins.”

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“Do you want me to come with you?” Rosalyn asked. “I’m tired, but getting your throat almost slit open tends to wake you up.”

“Of course I want you to come with me! But Brumehold has some strict security measures. Even though I’m Chief, I don’t think I could get you in.” Catherine explained. “Just go back to the apartment. Your work here is done, I think.”

“Oh. Okay.” Rosalyn said, surprised.

Then, one of the officers from the pack - the only one not laughing with the others - came up beside Catherine. “Chief Ahab. We’re bringing the prisoner back to Brumehold. Should I wait for you to join us?”

The officer’s voice was cold and dry, like the desert. He almost looked that way too, the same agedness and dark intensity on his face. He was shorter and smaller than Catherine but his posture was straighter and the decreased size made him appear nimble and swift. He wore little armour, and carried a weapon at his side - one end, the bronze blade of a longsword, and the other, the barrel of a cannon.

“Just wait up one second Langstrom, I’m wrapping things up with Roz.” Catherine said. And with that, Langstrom gave a silent nod, and disappeared into the crowd. But not before giving one last look at Rosalyn, which she didn’t know what to make of.

“Who’s that?” Catherine asked.

“Deputy Chief Langstrom. He runs Brumehold.” said the Knight. “Nothing for you to worry about though. Come on, you get back to the apartment and I’ll meet you there!”

A few minutes later and the Fogport Police, Catherine and Deerin in tow, were off to Brumehold, just off the coast of Fogport. While they had been fighting for their lives in the Chapel, the night sky had begun to soften, and the first photons of daylight were creeping in through the morning fog.

But Rosalyn didn’t feel finished yet. Something was still gnawing away at her insides, twisting and knotting at her stomach while it did backflips under her abs. She spent about 10 minutes pacing back and forth outside the Chapel, blood still rushing through her veins. “What did he mean by ‘Fogport’s done for’? What did Elliott know about it?” she whispered to herself, still pacing like a madman.

“He seemed to care for Elliott. Everybody thought they were friends. He seemed SAD talking about him. Maybe that’s guilt… but maybe it’s something else.” Rosalyn mused. “He didn’t seem to want to say what it was that he and Elliott were involved with. He was accusing Catherine too, blaming her for SOMETHING that happened to her brother… but Deerin wouldn’t tell me what. Why not?”

“There’s no way in hell Catherine would hurt Elliott, I-I just don’t believe that. But maybe it’s something else. Maybe Deerin didn’t want us to know about Elliott because he was lying, or scared, or trying to manipulate us… but maybe he wasn’t being obtuse to protect himself. Maybe he’s trying to protect Elliott.”

Rosalyn’s pacing had taken her to the edge of the rocky plateau this part of the city was built on. Now, as she walked back and forth, she was overlooking the Northern Beach of the city. As the morning darkness began to ever-so-slowing brighten, Rosalyn could see the grains of sand beneath the cliffs start to glimmer, in a way that looked inviting.

Rosalyn scurried down a nearby path that wound down the jagged cliffs, and stepped onto the soft white sand. She could practically feel it through her shoes. Looking out at the Misty Sea, the first flickers of dawn refracting through the water and vapour, it was the kind of calming she needed right now. The gentle splashing of waves was like a relaxing drum, that slowly began to wash away the echoes of that awful chanting in her ears.

So this beach is sacred to the Mysticet? ‘Communion Beach’, right? she thought, reflecting back on the tableaus and murals she had seen in the Chapel, depicting white sands like these, along with legends of the Ghost Whales and rituals of love. I can see why they want to protect this place.

Against her better judgement, Rosalyn sat down on the warm coast, the panoramic view of the Abyssal Ocean sprawled out in front of her. “I know Catherine thinks this mystery’s solved, or WILL BE solved in a few hours. But I can’t help but feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface of what this city hides.”

* * *

Rosalyn was floating alone in space.

Drifting through the void of an alien sky, Rosalyn could see the distant light of dead stars, clouds of cosmic gas, and great novas booming in the far off space. She was floating, like an untethered balloon, through the pinks and purples of the beyond, high above a sprawling silver ocean beneath her. Rosalyn would have normally screamed, but she felt no fear now. Only serenity and tranquility in the warm glow of the stars of The Astral Ocean.

I’m dreaming. Rosalyn thought as she stared down at the still, glassy water below, locking eyes with her own reflection through the water. I’m dreaming of The Astral Ocean…

It is said by some that Blackwater is only a shadow of The Astral Ocean. The Abyssal Ocean, merely a penumbra of the stars, and that when death comes we will return here, home, as drops of starlight.

The quiet of space was disrupted by a distant song - not sinister or frightening this time, but overwhelmingly beautiful - bittersweet harmonies rippling through the starlight. Her head spun in the direction of the intoxicating music, and her eyes became flooded with a light more brilliant than any of the stars in the sky. After taking a second to blink the light away, the figure came into focus: an enormous beast that dominated her vision. A skeletal giant, dripping with an oily pale goo, staring at Rosalyn with hollow but kind eyes.

A Ghost Whale.