Chapter 25: Case Review

Chapter 25: Case Review

The eyes were looking at him through the window.

The walls of Lord Ochs fortress kept them away, but as they infested the Domains ceiling like moss, he couldnt escape them.

Val mar

They had watched him since the moment he was born, though he couldnt see them then. He thought his grandfathers death had left him orphaned, but in truth, he had never been alone in his life. Not for a single second.

His family had followed him everywhere.

Valde mar?

Valdemar looked away from the eyes outside and locked his gaze with a smaller pair of them.

Valdemar? Marianne asked him with concern. The teapot between them let out a small puff of steam. Are you alright?

No, he replied, his throat dry. Are you certain of it? About

About my father.

I cant be sure, Marianne admitted. But its the most likely explanation from the clues that I gathered so far. Shelleys facility and the the clones inside point in that direction.

They cloned his mother.

They made a cup out of her bones.

Was his mother even the original Sarah? Had his two grandfathers cultivated her in a flask like a homunculus? Was Valdemar born inside a womb, or a vat of glass? A piece of eldritch flesh wrapped in human skin? Maybe the derros werent such pioneers after all.

Marianne had been true to her word. The investigator told him everything with unflinching bluntness, though she had looked more and more concerned as she went on. By the time she was halfway through recounting her case, Valdemar took everything in stoic silence. He simply couldnt muster the strength for emotional distress anymore.

He thought it would have been impossible to top the Silent Kings revelations, that he had reached an emotional bottom. But as it turned out, you could always dig deeper.

Val mar?

Valdemar blinked as he realized he had zoned out again. Im sorry, he apologized. Its a lot to take in.

I understand. Mariannes eyes wandered to his hand, as if she considered taking it into her own. But she hesitated. Perhaps she thought it would be inappropriate? While they had agreed to work together, they werent friends either. We can continue later, if you need rest.

As if sleep would be any escape. If anything, Valdemar was afraid of slumber like never before.

He would dream of the well again.

When you visited the false Vernburg... he rasped. What hour was it?

Marianne frowned. I cant tell exactly. We arrived late, and explored the village for a few hours until morning. Why are you asking?

I dreamed of you while you were away, Valdemar admitted. I was at the bottom of a well, and you were looking down on me.

Mariannes curiosity turned to unnerving focus. You were at the bottom?

And when I tried to reach you, the well collapsed on me.

His bodyguard digested the news in silence, her gaze thoughtful. Whats your sleeping schedule? she asked, having reached the same conclusion.

I have an irregular sleep cycle due to nightmares, but I usually go to bed late and wake up early, Valdemar admitted. I have been dreaming of the well you saw since I was little. Sometimes I had nightmares of rats watching me from above, or tossing me bones and meat.

Shelleys rats, most likely, Marianne said, joining her hands. So you have a mental connection to the Nahemoth trapped inside the well.

If it is a Nahemoth, Valdemar pointed out. It would fit, but he was now considering another, darker possibility. What do you know about oneiromancy?

I have a well-protected dreamscape, but oneiromancy is not one of my strong points, Marianne confessed. I was only ever interested in defending my thoughts rather than invading others. I have started to research the subject after learning more about the Outer Darkness though.

I couldnt learn the basics, because my dreamscape is dysfunctional. I havent been able to shape my own dreams. Frigga and Lady Mathilde said it was because of my personality and subconscious thoughts, but now Valdemar glanced at the hedge maze beyond the window. Now I wonder.

From what I read in the Bestiary, the Primordial Dream shared by mankind is a self-defense mechanism created by sentient life to protect itself from the Qlippoths, Marianne said. Valdemar made a note to borrow and read that book later, if only to complete his own knowledge. Maybe thats why? You can access the dream world as a human, but since you share a connection to the Qlippoths, the collective unconscious fights off your attempts to alter it.

That, Valdemar said. Or I have a fully functional dreamscape, but I dont materialize it in the Primordial Dream.

Mariannes eyes widened in shock. The Vernburg village disappeared when you woke up from your nightmare.

Valdemar nodded. Now the question is do I have a connection to a Nahemoth and passively summon him when I dream, or is the thing at the bottom of the well my unconscious self materializing the Qlippoth hamlet as a physical dreamscape?

What difference would it make?

A big one. In one case, Im a mere summoning conduit, a living portal. In the other, my unconscious mind warps reality itself and births Qlippoths into existence.

Marianne didnt respond. Her expression became a blank mask as the implications dawned upon her.

Valdemars laughter broke the silence.

It surprised him and startled Marianne too. For it was not laughter of joy, or even sadness. It was a laugh that burst out of his lips uncontrollably, like water overflowing out of a broken cistern. The kind of laugh that left the throat dry and the soul sickened.

I mean, thats funny, Valdemar continued, unable to stop himself as he laughed maniacally between each sentence. Frigga mocked me for having a defenseless, unremarkable dreamscape, but I conjured a whole town with Qlippoths as private security! They play humans in my head! Like me! If its not my subconscious at work, I dont know what

A flash of anger passed over Mariannes face as she raised her voice. Dont say that!

Her sudden reaction startled Valdemar, the laughter dying in his throat. Say what? he asked.

That you play human, instead of being one, Marianne said. Because you are one.nove(l)bi(n.)com

Im not, Valdemar replied grimly. Never was.

A monster like Shelley is not human, Marianne insisted. The creatures inside the Vernburg village arent human. You might have inhuman origins and peculiar abilities, but you breathe like a man, behave like a man, eat like a man.

Shit like a man? Valdemar thought back of his grandfathers echo, and how he had wished it could become the real one. Even if a pictomancer made the perfect portrait of someone and breathed life into the pigments, it would still be a painting rather than the real thing.

But Marianne wouldnt back down. But what if the portrait has a soul? If the copy has emotions and dreams, then its life has value.

The inquisitors would say otherwise, Valdemar gazed down at his empty cup. He felt just as hollow. Why am I even alive, Marianne? By imperial laws, you should have given me up to the inquisition or executed me yourself.

She frowned. Inquisitor Penhew suggested that I execute you because you were too dangerous to live. That was before I visited Vernburg, and all that followed. If word of what I learned reached his ears, the Knights would hunt you down.

And for once Valdemar was tempted to agree with them. His very existence might serve as a portal for interdimensional monsters. Many had been executed for less.

I am not a Knight, Marianne declared. I will not execute people because they might threaten the empire, but only if they do.

You said Shelley moved unnaturally fast? he asked Marianne.

She took the sudden change of subject in stride. Even if he used a modified rat to transmit his plague inside our walls, it shouldnt have crossed such a vast distance faster than a riding beetle. I still cant explain it. He was quicker than a man when we fought, but not nearly as much as a trained mount.

Valdemar had only ever seen Lord Och being capable of teleportation, a feat made possible because he spent the Light knows how many years coating his fortress in advanced spells. He wondered if it would be possible for a summoner to call a wererat to their location from afar, before deciding against that possibility. The Dark Lords protected vital areas of their territory with wards or detection spells.

The fact Valdemar saw a vision of his mother right after Marianne shattered a lab full of her clones couldnt be a coincidence, though the nature of the connection escaped him for the moment.

Maybe another clone of his mother had escaped Shelley in the past and taken refuge in Astaphanos? It struck him as far-fetched, considering the wererat could only make malformed copies. Or maybe the eyes had toyed with his mind, as Hermann suggested?

Valdemar didnt know what to think of it. The idea of his mother being alive in some form should have been cause to rejoice, but his gut told him that her appearance only heralded troubles to come.

So, to summarize, Marianne said, eager to change the subject. The entity can communicate with its cult, but its instructions are either vague or very rare.

Maybe its restricted somehow, Valdemar guessed.

Restricted by what? Magical laws?

Maybe. Even Qlippoths couldnt enter the material realm without a summoners help, although their godlike progenitor occupied every inch of Underlands tunnels. I dont know, Valdemar admitted. Thats the root of the problem. Unless we understand what that entity is, we wont figure out what it can do or even want.

We can surmise the latter, Marianne pointed out. To reach Earth.

Valdemar shook his head. Im not so sure. That was my grandfathers intention, yes, but the cult wanted power and immortality alongside their promised land.

The Silent King had shown him a vision where he transformed into a monster. Something unlike the Earthmouth his grandfather planned to turn him into.

Marianne crossed her arms and hung back in her chair. Valdemar could almost see gears turning inside her head. Could it be she whispered.

You figured out something?

Someone betrayed Aleksander Verneys cult soon after your birth and made the purge possible, Marianne explained. Inquisitor Penhew never learned their identity, nor why your grandfather and mother were spared by the Knights. How could I miss it

No way You think my grandfather sold out the cult?

Marianne nodded. Inquisitor Penhew thought that your rumored father, Isaac Verney, betrayed the cult to save your mother. Maybe he was right about the motives, but wrong about the culprit. If we assume that your two grandfathers had diverging agendas, Pierre Dumont makes an ideal suspect. It would explain why he and your mother were spared from any kind of retribution by the inquisition, as he would have negotiated an amnesty.

It fit. So the fate the cult had in store was even worse than turning me into a gate between worlds, Valdemar deadpanned. Wonderful.

Maybe, Marianne said with a softer voice. Or he wanted to protect you because you were his grandson.

Valdemar snickered. The Silent King

Showed you why you were born. But did your grandfather ever try to prepare you for the sacrifice?

He nursed me with tales of Earth, until I believed in his dream. Until Valdemar would do anything to achieve it.

But he never tried to indoctrinate you into pursuing the Earthmouth ritual. As Lord Och told you, you only need to consent to it. Age is not a barrier. He raised you to adulthood without ever crossing the line, even after your mother perished.

Valdemar frowned in disbelief. What nonsense was that? Couldnt she see the obvious, that his grandfather manipulated him since the day he was born? That the strings had been subtle? What are you implying? That he changed his mind?

Maybe, Marianne replied. Maybe your mother talked him out of his plan. Mine said that parenthood changes people, for good or ill.

Valdemar wasnt a parent, so he couldnt tell. Maybe she has a point, he thought. His grandfather had been nothing but kind in their time together.

Or maybe Valdemar simply had a hard time reconciling the happy memory with the unsavory goal his grandfather created him to fulfill. Whether or not he changed his mind, Pierre Dumont worked with a Stranger cult to turn his grandson into a gateway between worlds. Valdemar wasnt sure he could ever forgive him for this, even if he balked out halfway through.

I cant say, the summoner replied, trying to banish these thoughts from his mind. They only made it harder for him to focus. The echo inside my portrait cant answer half my questions.

Could it answer this one? Marianne gathered her breath. Who is Crtail?

Crtail? Valdemar raised an eyebrow. You mean Crteil? With an e?

I think it was with an a, though I may have misheard. One of the Qlippoths in Vernburg spoke of a child with that name, probably you.

Crteil was my grandfathers hometown on Earth. Its not one of my names. Valdemar tried to remember in which context he learned that information. I always bugged grandpa about it.

Did your mother ever use that word? Marianne asked. Im grasping at straws, but any clue, no matter how circumstantial can help.

Grandpa never used the word in her presence, Valdemar replied, wincing at the mere memory. The one time he did, it caused a crisis.

A crisis? Valdemar looked away, causing Marianne to clear his throat. If this is sensitive

My mother was unstable. The summoner shifted on his chair, the memories painful to remember. She she was very kind and gentle, but moody. Sometimes she cried without warning, or she didnt answer when called. At the end of her life, she spent most of her time in an asylum for treatment.

Im sorry to hear that. She sounded genuine too. How old were you?

Old enough to understand what was happening, too young to do anything about it. Valdemar gazed at his reflection in his tea. I thought she was ill, but knowing everything you told me I think she was just traumatized by what she went through with the cult. It cant have been easy.

She probably didnt even consent to having a half-Stranger for a son.

ABOMINATION.

Maybe Valdemar had just been a burden she had to take care of.

While I apologize for unburying painful memories, I believe we should investigate that Crteil lead, Marianne said, oblivious to Valdemars dark thoughts. Call it gut feeling, I believe its an important detail.

Ill look for it inside the journal, Valdemar said as he rose from his seat. And investigate that creature you saw being summoned in Vernburg Castle. I have my suspicions about its nature, but I need more time to confirm them.

Well, its late, Marianne said with a chuckle. I think you should go to sleep. We have been at it for hours, and we leave for Sabaoth tomorrow.

I cant sleep until I complete my Painted Field, Valdemar pointed out. Or I might manifest the hamlet.

I have potions that can give you a dreamless sleep. Ill give you a few, since your metabolism will shrug off weaker doses. Marianne smiled sadly. I have nightmares too.

About your family?

In a way. Marianne fidgeted like an imprisoned animal trying to shake off her chains. I I know it sounds hypocritical after we discussed your family history, but

You dont have to tell me if you dont want to, Valdemar replied with a chuckle. Unless one of your parents is a Stranger? Then we could work on solving that case too.

Not yet at least, Marianne mused. You have a pretty dark sense of humor.

He had to.

When faced with pain, he would rather laugh than cry.