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The tree burns with a violence far in excess of the paltry amount of oil that you poured on it, as if the ancient wood had been yearning for a chance to blaze away. Heedless of the terrible waves of heat rolling off it, you sit just a short distance away from the burning tree and stare into the raging flames. Were the monster to emerge from the conflagration and attack, you would have no defence against it – you're too tired to fight, too tired to even move a muscle.
It's only when the trees collapses in on itself, burnt away to nothing but an empty shell, that you start to feel a faint strength creeping back into your limbs. The silence that descends is crushing, almost as oppressive as the monster's constant, insidious song.
“...How embarrassing,” Juno says eventually, her lips curling with contempt, “All my grand talk about how dangerous, how destructive, these THINGS are, and I'm the first one who falls victim to it.”
“Don't... blame yourself,” Ariel replies slowly, her voice low and weary, “You're an oracle. You're probably more sensitive to these things, or something like that.”
You never expected to hear HER trying to cheer up a Tomoe, but a lot of strange things have been happening to you lately.
“Oh yes, that would be convenient, wouldn't it?” Juno sneers, “A nice convenient excuse that waves away any suggestion of personal responsibility. Shall we say that it was all part of the natural order, too?”
“Save the self-pity for later,” you chide, painfully heaving yourself to your feet, “We're going back to the lodge.”
“The lodge?” Ariel groans, “Why?”
“Because it has a bed, that's why,” you snap, giving her a sharp glare.
“Leigh too,” Juno murmurs to herself.
“I'm not sure if I'd consider that a point in favour, but yes, Leigh too,” you sigh, “I think we all need a chance to rest and recover. The danger has passed, so one more day won't change anything. If you have any objections, you're welcome to walk home by yourself.”
Ariel gives the matter some serious consideration, or at least pretends to, before tilting her head. “Perhaps not,” she decides.
-
“How are we even going to explain this to Master Teilhard?” Ariel muses as you finally arrive back at the silent lodge, “I don't even know how to explain it to myself. That woman-”
“There never was a woman,” you interrupt, “It was that thing, that creature. It was just showing those men what they wanted to see. These men were all deeply faithful, and they saw a wounded woman – a figure from the Nicean Prophecies. And I saw... I saw Gratia.”
“Hm,” Ariel murmurs, nodding to herself before turning to Juno, “And you?”
“That's none of your business, actually,” Juno answers sharply.
“But... a woman?” the pale girl presses, undeterred by Juno's vicious glare, “I mean, I'm not-”
“Yes,” Juno says curtly, “A woman.”
[1/2]
