#guillam

Weary from his perilous journey, Sereis released all his tension in one long exhale. He had finally made it. The spire in the center of Igni Springs reached up like the claw of Terari itself, piercing the skies from the inky darkness below. Its power seeped up from the earth, bubbling to the surface with the spring water and permeating the ground beneath his feet. Even without seven years of careful research, anyone could recognize this site as the true source of the curse - a curse that Sereis believed only he could dispel now.

Taking a deep breath, Sereis reached to his scabbard and drew his sword. Then, he hurled it into the water, watching it disappear in an instant under the unnaturally dark surface. "Hear me, Terari!" He paused. Was it his imagination, or was the surface of the water changing...? "I am Sereis of the Holy Order. In the name of my Order, and in the presence of the Pharos himself, I offer myself to you!"

He stood still as a statue, as though any further movement might inspire him to run from the spot in terror. He stared at the water, looking for any sign that the dark god had heard his message. Just as he considered giving up, a slow movement drew his gaze upwards toward the spire. As if by a mirage, the spire seemed to be dividing into two, mirroring itself on the other side of the spring; a long, serpentine neck rose up from between the twin spires; two slivers of purple light appeared, then opened into featureless glowing eyes. The dragon god Terari stood before him, glimmering, seemingly made of the black water from whence it spawned. Its aura swallowed the paltry amount of the dusk's light around it, darkening the sky until only a pure void stretched all the way to the horizon.

A creeping chill enveloped Sereis. This was where he, the last of the paladins that desecrated the shrine, would meet his end - though it was by his own free will, the fear of death still froze his spirit. He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again, resolving to meet his fate. The dragon's maw opened, bathing Sereis in a bright purple glow.

In his last moments, Sereis felt a peculiar peace, and a pleasant warm breeze grazed his skin just before he lost all sensation.

That peace was broken in an instant.

As if shaken roughly from a dream, he jolted and snapped his eyes open. The sky looked different: where once the violet clouds obscured the stars, a clear canvas of dark blue engirdled a bright full moon. He squinted against the moon's searing light, lifting himself upright.

He was terribly thirsty. He glanced frantically around and, seeing the spring nearby, rushed to its edge to take a drink. Its surface was transparent now, not the inky darkness it had been before, revealing his sword still stuck near the center in the underwater sediment. That could wait, he thought. He cupped his trembling hands and brought the clear water to his lips.

He took a single sip, then froze. He looked at the shining film of water on his snow-white hands, felt the unquenched, gnawing thirst that seemed to tear at his very soul, and finally stared emptily at the spire above him. The silence of the night deafened him, and he lost all conscious thought, replaced by a dull, aching terror.

He slowly rose to his feet, his still-shaking hands betraying the helpless, resigned fear within him. Numbly, he tremulously turned away from the spring and began stumbling forward with leaden feet. His eyes didn't process the landscape as he walked, nor did his feet walk in any particular direction; he simply walked, with no hope or destination.

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“Guillam, I heard some news that may be of interest to you,” Leopold said with an unusually restrained tone. He crossed his guest room, made shadowy by heavy curtains that had recently nailed over the windows, and seated himself to face his bedridden friend. “A report came in from the paladins stationed near Greenvale.” Guillam visibly flinched, but it was too dark in the canopy bed to see the expression on his face. Leopold continued, “They say the curse has been lifted.”

Guillam inhaled audibly and paused before speaking. “I see.”

Leopold stared at Guillam, scrutinizing him. "You know, Guillam, you have always had a bad poker face. You know something about the curse, don't you?” Guillam turned onto his side with a quiet groan, facing away. Leopold sighed. “Anyways, they found a paladin's sword stuck in a spring north of Greenvale. They say a paladin went alone to dispel the curse, but they never found his body."

"Right," Guillam mumbled, still turned away. "I suppose we'll never know what happened, then."

Leopold began to say something but stopped, then exhaled sharply in frustration. He had just moved forward in his seat to stand when a noble appeared in the doorway and knocked lightly. "Leopold!" the noble whispered from across the room. Leopold gave him a puzzled look. The noble continued, "I have an interesting rumor for you - it's about that enigmatic paladin you asked about."

"Really." Leopold glanced at Guillam, who hadn't moved or reacted, then stood up and faced the noble. "Do tell. I'm always open for gossip."

The noble hesitated, perhaps sensing the tension in the air, then continued in a hushed tone, "Well, apparently some hunter spotted a paladin while tracking sand drakes in the middle of the desert east of Greenvale. But he looked like a ghost - his uniform was all in tatters, and he was just walking slowly, like a zombie, totally unaware of anything around him. On top of that, his skin was as pale as the moon. The hunter was a superstitious man, so he didn't dare get any closer for fear of being cursed, but he swore he saw a sand drake run away as the paladin approached."

Leopold's brows furrowed. "Does anyone know for certain whether this is connected to the sword in that spring?"

"No, not really. But it's surely more than coincidence, don't you think? Last I heard, an occult expert, who came all the way from the city of Flynn to see Greenvale for himself, has taken an interest in this paladin and is tracking him as we speak."

Leopold started to answer, but a sudden movement from the bed interrupted his thought. He turned to find Guillam suddenly sitting upright, staring forward and leaning on his arm as if he intended to move. Leopold, somewhat stunned, hesitated before asking, "Everything alright, Guillam? Do you need something?"

Guillam turned to look at him. "I need to find that paladin," he murmured resolutely.

Leopold gaped at him. "What's this all of a sudden? Guillam, you're not going anywhere in your current condition."

Guillam groaned and collapsed back onto the bed, but continued speaking, “I’m certain I’ve mentioned this to you already, but I feel much better at nighttime. In any case, night might just be the best time to catch up with him anyways. Please, humor me just this once - I must know what has happened to him before that occult expert finds him first.”

Leopold stammered incomprehensibly in reply while the noble silently excused himself and slipped out of the room. Finally Leopold huffed, “I suppose you’ll just find a way to slip out if I don’t accompany you! You really are stubborn once you’ve set your mind on something. Fine, let’s leave tonight, but I’m not going to let you do anything dangerous, alright?”

Guillam breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Leopold. It means a lot. I’m going to rest so I’ll have the energy for the trip - he probably hasn’t gotten very far, but who knows.”

The art merchant Guillam swung the lock box shut and turned the key with a click, the end of another night. Yawning, he shuffled back to the back room – his bedroom – and gently set his lit candle on the nightstand by his bed. It was an uneventful day, but he got a couple of sales out of it, so he was satisfied. Changing into his bedclothes, he allowed his mind to wander and started planning his day tomorrow. A few things needed to be rearranged, a few appointments needed to be made...

Then he heard footsteps.

He strained to hear them, but they were footsteps, undeniably. He had remembered to bolt the front door, hadn't he? He took a long dagger from his nightstand's drawer and cautiously approached his bedroom door, listening. The footsteps slowed, then stopped, in the same way that one might slow down to inspect an art piece that had caught their eye. It seemed unsettlingly normal, given the circumstances.

As quietly as he could, he pushed the bedroom door open. Sure enough, someone was standing there in the darkness, facing Guillam's most recent acquisition, the visitor's back turned away from him. He was dressed oddly - entirely in red, it seemed, and trimmed with gold - and his black hair fell just past his shoulders. Guillam had dealt with would-be burglars before, but this man certainly didn't look or act the part of an ordinary burglar. The front door, he noted, was still bolted. He tried to imagine a burglar politely bolting the door behind them.

"H-hey, you!" he stammered despite his best attempt not to. "If you're planning to steal anything, forget it! I'm armed and I'm no stranger to dealing with thieves!"

The man turned. His eyes, set in a pale, corpse-like face, glowed a piercing red. He had the eyes of a snake - no, the eyes of a vampire.

Guillam choked. "W-what I mean is, uh... We're closed, but... Feel free to, um, continue looking... After all, art is meant to be appreciated, right? Hahahaha..."

The vampire did not respond, but studied the art dealer intently. After a long, tense silence, the vampire turned away and faded into red mist, disappearing through the door. Guillam staggered backwards, frantically scanning the room, then bolted for the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him and sinking to the floor, shaking.

The next day, Guillam swung the lock box shut, but hesitated before turning the key. His friend Leopold, over by his invitation, casually leaned over the counter.

"Say, Leopold. Would you mind, uh, staying here a bit longer?"

"Oh? Do you have a proposition for-"

"Leopold, no. I had a run-in with... well, an intruder last night. To tell you the truth, it's left me a bit rattled."

"Well, I don't know how much help I can possibly be, but I can stay as long as you like."

"Thank you." Guillam sighed with relief. Indeed, Leopold wouldn't be much help in an emergency, but he'd at least appreciate the company. "Would you help me close the store, then?"

"Of course."

With Leopold's help, he had completely cleaned the store before the sun had completely set. He double-checked the door's lock several times and hung protective charms around the door frame, muttering prayers to any god he thought might help.

"Are you alright, Guillam?" Leopold asked, concerned. "This is unlike you."

"Well, these are special circumstances..." Guillam had paid good money for these protective charms, and he could only hope that they worked. "Alright, that's probably enough." He walked back to his bedroom, and Leopold followed after.

As the sun set, Guillam kept his ear pressed to the door, listening. Leopold watched, casually resting against the bed. "Are you going to tell me what this is about or not?"

"Well, I... You see, it's..." Every time he started to speak, it just sounded ridiculous in his head. A vampire visited my store to do some window shopping last night. How could he possibly say that in a way that didn't make him sound like a madman? "N-never mind... It's probably nothing," he finally decided.

"Well, I brought some cards. Care for a game?"

"Yes... I could use some relaxation. Thank you."

Time passed, and nothing unusual happened. Guillam had, of course, lost all the money he set aside for gambling, being unable to focus on the game. Eventually, he opened his shutters and looked at the moon outside. It was well past midnight.

"This has been a blissfully uneventful night," Guillam remarked. He stretched, feeling his mind begin to shut down after such a long period of nightly alertness. "It's getting late; you should probably go home."

"This has certainly been interesting," Leopold replied with a disappointed yawn. "See you tomorrow, then."

Guillam followed until Leopold had exited the shop, then bolted the door behind him. He sighed in relief. Nothing strange had happened; no unusual sounds interrupted their card games. Perhaps his fears were for naught, or perhaps the protective charms had worked. He turned away and headed back to the bedroom. No sooner had he reached the bedroom door, however, than he heard a knock at the door. Guillam froze.

"Guillam?" It's Leopold's voice, thank the gods. "Were you expecting a package?"

Guillam furrowed his brow and doubled back, then swung open the door to see Leopold with his usual casual stance. "A package?"

Leopold gestured to his left. "Look."

There, indeed, was a small wooden box. The box was taller than it was wide, polished and engraved with remarkable craftsmanship and inlaid in intricate patterns with silver. Guillam approached it and gingerly picked up. It was surprisingly heavy. The box alone would be worth quite a bit to the right buyer, he thought. "I wasn't expecting anything like this, no..." he murmured. He unlatched the delicate silver clasp and found that the box folded outwards rather than opening from the top. Hesitantly, he opened it fully.

His breath caught in his throat.

It was the most spectacular piece of metalworking he had ever seen. It represented some god or saint that he didn't immediately recognize, but regardless, it was stunning. Impossibly small details made of precious gemstones adorned the figure, and the figure's eyes seemed alive. Leopold looked over his shoulder to marvel at it. "Astounding," he said. "I've never seen anything like this."

Guillam found it impossible to speak. He was fairly certain he knew what artist created this. But... why? Why bring this here? He inspected it closer and saw a note underneath the statue. He took it, and read it. "Do with this what you will." It was signed at the bottom with a flowing script - "Pisano".

"What are you going to do?" Leopold asked.

"I..." He paused. A sculpture made by a vampire!? "I think I'll take it to a priest."

"What!? You think this beautiful sculpture is cursed!?" Leopold gaped at him, then relaxed and shrugged with a sigh. "Well, you may have a point. It is rather odd to be receiving strange statues in the middle of the night."

Guillam nodded. "I think I'm going to do that now. I'd rather not keep this in my home without knowing if it's safe."

"No, it's not cursed," said the priest.

"Really?" Guillam knelt on a fine velvet cushion, on the verge of falling asleep in the warm, dark temple. He was only kept awake by anxiety of the business that had brought him here, as well as the pungent smell of incense and smoke from the roaring fire.

"It does, however, have faint traces of dark magic. It may have lived in a cursed place recently, but it is not directly cursed."

A small gathering of nighttime temple-goers crowded in to ogle the statue. "You're Monsieur Guillam, right? Where did you find this?" one of them asked.

"He received it from a mysterious benefactor," Leopold interrupted before Guillam could speak. "It was even signed, by an artist named Pisano." He showed off the card that came with the statue, letting everyone see it.

"That name doesn't sound familiar at all," someone said. "You'd think, with this level of skill, that they'd be famous by now."

"And what was that about a 'cursed place'? What kind of artifact is this?" someone else added.

"It's certainly a curiosity, isn't it?" Leopold said. He took Guillam aside, whispering to him. "This statue has already caused a stir. You should auction it off while people are talking about it."