A few things Jenkins hadn't taken with him from his stay during the Evil God's Child incident still remained in his room. When he pulled open a drawer, he found an assortment of brightly colored candies and remembered they were the lucky sweets he hadn't given out. He smiled, casually unwrapped one, and popped it into his mouth.
Chocolate, who had been on the bed surveying the room like a king inspecting his domain, saw Jenkins's movement and immediately bounded over, unable to wait.
The cat had assumed Jenkins had given all the candy away. Dıscover more novels at novel[f]ire.net
He hadn't fallen asleep until nearly dawn, and it felt like only moments later that a cacophony erupted outside his door, sounding like the tramping of soldiers on the march. He'd been sleeping poorly for days, and his subconscious insisted that the church was a sanctuary of absolute safety, so he ignored the commotion and tried to go back to sleep.
A moment later, Jenkins felt something burrow under the covers. It took him a second to realize it was Chocolate, who was likely just as displeased with the noise outside as he was.
"What in the world is going on?"
Waking up so abruptly often makes it impossible to fall back asleep, and that was exactly Jenkins's predicament. Eyes still closed in irritation, he grudgingly dragged himself out of bed, shuffled into his slippers, and, still in his pajamas, pushed the door open.
The moment he opened the door, he came face-to-face with an acquaintance—a Scribe whose name he couldn't recall, but whom he had healed before. The man looked startled to see him, but without a second thought for Jenkins's state of dress, he grabbed him and began pulling him insistently toward the main hall of the church.
It let out a soft, questioning meow, then leaped from the bed. Following Jenkins's scent, it too disappeared down the corridor.
A few seconds later, the cat darted back into the room. A tentacle extended from the shadows, pulled the drawer open, and devoured all the candy inside.
This time, it truly set off in pursuit of Jenkins's scent.
Dragged into the church's main hall, Jenkins found it ablaze with light, as if prepared for a grand service. The massive holy emblem suspended high above radiated a visible aura, its faint golden brilliance bathing every corner of the vast room. The moment he stepped inside, Jenkins felt a warmth spreading across his forehead as the spirit within him grew steadier, more powerful.
"Oh, great Sage, you truly watch over us!"
Someone spotted Jenkins and let out a reverent gasp. Immediately, the Scribes who had been gathered in the main hall—praying, resting, tending to their wounds, and talking in hushed tones—parted to create a path for him, allowing him to approach the holy emblem.
A pristine white skeleton lay before them. Its bones were the color of milk—an unnervingly unnatural sight. Dark particles continuously seeped from the skeleton, while motes of golden light drifted down from above, relentlessly driving the darkness back.
It was impossible to tell which side was winning. The golden light and black particles swirled across the bones, colliding and annihilating each other in silent bursts.
The skeleton had belonged to a man, though Jenkins could discern neither his age nor the cause of his death. Miss Bevanna was presiding over the ritual, kneeling on one knee before the holy emblem as she led the assembled Scribes in prayer. The scene was reminiscent of the night they had sealed the water-absorbing bone, but Jenkins still had no idea what was actually happening.
"Jenkins! The Sage is truly watching over us!"
Miss Bevanna beckoned for Jenkins to join her, and together they knelt on one knee before the holy emblem. Everyone else was dressed in solemn attire; Jenkins, meanwhile, was still in his pajamas and cat-themed slippers.
Jenkins guessed that no one in history had ever prayed in such a state. He wasn't sure if it constituted blasphemy, but since Miss Bevanna didn't seem to mind, he figured it must be acceptable.
Speaking was forbidden during the prayer, so Jenkins had no way of asking what was going on. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chocolate appear at the edge of the hall. The cat first looked up curiously at the beautiful motes of golden light, then ran toward Jenkins without a hint of hesitation.
Just before reaching him, however, it swerved abruptly and leaped onto the bench behind him, where it settled down to wait patiently.
Seeing how well-behaved the cat was, Jenkins paid it no further mind and closed his eyes, allowing his own voice to join the chorus of prayer.
At first, there was only darkness behind his closed eyelids. But as his voice merged with the deep, sacred chant, a golden light bloomed in his mind's eye. His body felt as though it were sinking into a warm bath, and the exhaustion from his lack of sleep vanished completely.
He peeked open one eye and saw a cascade of golden light, like a waterfall, pouring down from above to wash over the skeleton. All the dark spots on the bones were gone, or at least, he couldn't see any.
He understood now. They had managed to suppress some kind of unnatural transformation.
The ritual concluded half an hour later. When Jenkins tried to stand, his legs were numb and tingling, but Miss Bevanna steadied him before he could stumble.
The skeleton before them had returned to a normal appearance, but a closer look revealed faint, shimmering runes pulsing across its surface—a seal placed upon it.
"Miss Bevanna, what happened?"
Jenkins finally had a chance to speak. He watched as Mr. Smith, the Keeper of Secrets, emerged from somewhere and carefully placed the skeleton into a black coffer. Smith gave Jenkins a brief nod before being escorted by a group of attendants down a corridor behind the main hall.
The Scribes throughout the hall seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. They gathered in small groups, exchanging greetings before departing through various corridors. One of them approached Jenkins and Miss Bevanna to ask if the danger had passed, and only after being assured that all was well did he truly relax.
"A containment breach," she explained. "That was A-06-1-4408, the Curse of the Shipwrecked's Remains, which was supposed to be secured behind the Gate of All Things. It's an exceptionally dangerous Cursed Item. Only ships sailing the open ocean are likely to encounter it, usually on some uninhabited island. Once a crew member touches it—whether to bury it or bring it aboard—it almost guarantees the entire crew will suffer a horrific and tragic end."
"Storms, shipwrecks, ghosts, betrayal, hallucinations, curses... It's essentially a manifestation of pure resentment, a concentration of terrifying hatred for the living. Given Nolan's unique position, every church in the city has something like it in their collection."