A LIFE DEFINED BY DEATH.

reunions are a bittersweet affair, doubly so when they come two thousand years and two respective deaths later. for all the time spent in the dark bowels of angelgard, ardyn still remembers the news of ambrosius' execution at the hands of a rotten and jealous kingdom taken over by an equally rotten and jealous king. derision clings to the word even as he muses on it. somnus had always been a hungry thing, never reaching contentment until he had stripped ardyn's world down to bone. now it is ardyn's turn to devour, and by the gods he so scorns the life of the world he now holds between his teeth is a delight to taste.

it is less divine where this old comrade - in - arms is concerned, for they share the same affliction now and somewhere in the depths of his raging heart, ardyn feels regret. wounds though they are upon the face of eos, ambrosius is a thorn in ardyn's as well. no, they were not his fault. ambrosius was not his fault. among the many, many slights for which adagium will come to collect in time, the loss of the once - physician's name and life figures. ambrosius knows that by now, and yet it isn't the first time they have attempted to dissuade him from his current course.

" it will destroy you if you're not careful. " an ironic thing to say to a man whose possessions, material or otherwise, amount to nothing. there is nothing to kill within a man that's already dead.

ardyn's smile is a rueful gesture, if only for a moment. reminiscence flickers to life before he smothers it like a measly flame. " you said that to me once, " sighs the chancellor as they walk down the metal - paved promenade. " but now you ought to specify, i fear, since i suspect your cryptic warning isn't about our common ailment anymore. besides, i know what awaits me at the end; destruction shouldn't be in your list of concerns. "

destruction shouldn't be in your list of concerns, ardyn says. but that is where he is wrong.

"it has been my concern for two thousand years." a humorless not-quite-smile. "long before you ever decided to make peace with becoming everyone's monster." they remember thinking, the day they heard what the family had done to him on the isle of angelgard, that at least they're already dead and couldn't be made to watch it happen twice. they were wrong— about that, and about a great many things since. now they watch the people they care about ruin themselves slowly, in exquisite detail. neither of them asked for this. "i didn't come back from the dead to watch you choose to stay there. i know what i am. i know what you are. and i am telling you, as the only person left alive— or whatever we count as alive now— who remembers who you were before any of this: you don't have to let this be the end of the story they wrote for you. you're allowed to write a different one. even now... especially now."

"i'm not foolish enough to think there's a version of this where you walk away unscathed, though. or even where you walk away at all." their remaining eye closes. something almost gentle creeps into their dry cadence. "i've made my peace with that possibility long before this conversation, and the conversations before this one." when they look up to ardyn, their hand of flesh stays fisted white-knuckled around the cane. the other rises, just slightly, before they force it back down, clawed fingers curling into a fist instead of a reach. they want to anchor him. but it's futile, they know this. the dead have no business grasping at anything but each other's rot. and yet— "i just refuse to let you decide the ending is already written when we're both still standing here, breathing, however technical that word's become for either of us. that has to count for something."

the confines of the chapel are thick with incense, to the point he's sure the scent of it will linger on his coat for an hour or two, and it's so quiet he can even hear the faint crackling of the burning wicks. every sound echoes off the walls. every thought returns to him, amplified and grandiose and terrible; vann's inner ears are assaulted by a rush of blood, and the back of his brain tingles. he rubs an itch out of his eye. intracranial pressure concentrates into a single point, dissipates as soon as vann's hand returns to hold its companion atop his lap. he doesn't move from where he sits at the foot of a weeping faceless figure, wiry stone body contorted in repentance.

ambrosius unsettles him. their intentions are noble enough as they can be when tinged with the kind of eccentricity that teeters closer to silent madness than anything else. 'tis the fate of those out on a night of the hunt; while it doesn't surprise him, it does make the blood within him crawl. vann has long since parted ways with the healing church, but he recognizes its work when he sees and feels it.

it is of the church and byrgenwerth that they speak of, sat idly at the far back of the chapel as they wait for the howling outside to subside just enough. every person in yharnam is one node in a gargantuan web of crimson red, and at its very centre lies the healing church and its ministrations. either one of them, changed by its practices. each of them at least as far as vann can surmise granted new life with impossibility as the price to pay. vann gave it importance once; not anymore. this may be the final hunt and there are no blood ministers left alive that could cheat death in the waking world.

" we might not survive the night. all that hardly matters anymore. "

" it has changed you, vann. it does matter. " in the wake of ambrosius' voice, vann realizes he's never sounded so dejected before. it also dawns on him that they're one of the few souls they've ever confessed to, though there will be no sanguine absolution to bring his soul peace.

vann looks up towards his fellow hunter; ambrosius, simply leaned against the statue in momentary favour of their cane, stares down at him. uncanny, unsettling, cunning ambrosius. in the dim light, their one visible eye is the pinpoint white of a distant star next to a yawning void.

ambrosius unsettles him, but their intentions are good. that certainly matters more than unspoken sins and weighty tragedies ever will.

outside, the hunt prowls through yharnam's arteries. the city groans around itself; timber complains; distant bells toll. in the dark, something cries out. howls with a voice too human to belong to any beast. elsewhere, a hunter answers. "i have opened enough bodies to know that flesh keeps its own counsel." their gaze finds its way back to vann below. "the wound closes. the years pass. the body says nothing, until it is asked." a smile. it does not quite reach the eye. "and even then, it answers slowly... as if the soul suffers from the same affliction." for a moment, only the incense moves. clings stubbornly to dead air. then coils upward in pale strands and disappears into the rafters, joining centuries of prayers that never found an answer. "you left the church, vann, but it did not leave you. every time you speak of it, i hear its footsteps." the dead are generous in many ways. they leave much behind.

the observation comes without malice. "it sits beside you when you speak. it stands behind you when you grieve. it follows you into places like this and kneels with you before statues that cannot answer." the shadows lengthen with the flicker of candlelight. as they regard vann, it seems to gather at his back, cast by nothing visible, stretching black fingers across the stone. then the illusion passes. after a time, they look away once more. their gaze returns to the faceless saint. "the church changed us, embedded itself in the marrow." stranger still if it had not. even now, they feel its roots beneath their marred skin.

a sentence starter prompts list comprised of quotes from the novel a torch against the night by sabaa tahir. please be advised that this list may involve topics including, but not limited to, murder, death, and violence. change verbiage as needed.

how did they find us so fast?

if your sins were blood, you would drown in a river of your own making.

you ask what am i, but what are you?

stay out of the way. no matter how bad it looks, don't interfere, don't try to help.

when the fear takes over, use the only thing more powerful, more indestructible, to fight it: your spirit. your heart.

we have to keep going. we have to get out of the city.

if something happens to me, don't fear.

you took long enough. i’ve waited hours.

if you think i need an army to destroy you, you are mistaken.

don’t falter now, fool. you’ll regret it.

bad luck to lie to a comrade-in-arms.

do you enjoy it? the hurt you cause? the pain? i can see it. you carry it with you. why? does it bring you happiness?

i don’t mean to–i don’t want to hurt people.

you destroy all those who get close to you.

you are dead, you just don’t know it yet.

you’ve been blacked out for hours. i thought you might not wake up.

don’t you dare fade out on me again.

i can’t do this without you.

stay. don’t go back. i need you.

i’m going to hurt you. i hurt everyone. 

try to stay. you were gone for so long last time, and i need you to stay.

tell me another story. tell me another memory. something good.

if you care for [name], then do not let [name] care for you.

like the poison that rages within you, you have no antidote.

willpower alone cannot change one’s fate.

thirteen fractures is nothing.

i’m about as good with tears as i am with declarations of love.

every time i stare into your eyes, i see my nightmares.

now you seem older and harder and, perhaps most terrifyingly, wiser.

he insisted that killing you would lead to my doom.

to be honest, i’m tempted to slit your throat just to see what happens. perhaps i still will.

i’m yours to command, my lord.

i don’t have allies. i have people who owe me things and people who want things and people who use me and people whom i use.

you swore to be the sword that executes my will. now is the chance to prove your loyalty.

i need him dead and i want you to be the one who kills him. 

i want you to watch the light die in his eyes. i want him to know it’s the person he cares for most in the world who shoved a blade through his heart.

i want it to haunt you for all your days.

he’s sly enough to escape the bounty hunters quite easily, but you and i both know that he would never be able to escape you.

how do i kill the man i love?

forgive me, but how can you speak to me of obsession?

small victories have made you daring. do not let them make you stupid.

you have your orders. carry them out.

it will destroy you if you’re not careful.

would you care to hear my theory?

your injuries tell me you’ve seen battle.

the problem with greedy people is that they think everyone is as greedy as they are.

we’re surrounded.

i’ll catch you.

almost there. stay with me now.

god hears you better when you're on your knees.

don't pray for forgiveness, pray for usefulness.

we don't ask questions here, we receive answers.

if you're afraid, it means you're listening.

he chose you because you were empty.

faith isn't supposed to feel good.

pain is how devotion speaks back.

you don't need proof when you have purpose.

he watches us even when we sleep.

you were born broken so you could be remade.

doubt is a sin you confess with silence.

you don't belong to yourself anymore.

we gave that up at the door.

god doesn't love everyone.

if you leave, you take the curse with you.

you can't wash it off.

you feel guilty because you are guilty.

we save people.

you weren't chosen because you're special, it's because you'd submit.

he speaks through me now.

don't interrupt!

you don't need to understand, you need to comply.

the suffering means it's working.

you should be grateful he noticed you at all.

faith hurts before it heals.

sometimes it never heals.

god doesn't ask twice.

you volunteered the moment you stayed.

we don't use names here.

confession cleans the soul.

exposure cleans the body.

your fear smells like devotion.

if you scream, he listens harder.

you're shaking because you're close, don't pull away now.

we warned you about thinking for yourself.

obedience feels like relief once you stop resisting.

you don't miss your old life, you miss being ignorant.

he took your doubt as a kindness.

you should thank him.

the rules keep you safe from yourself.

you're not trapped, you're protected.

you don't get privacy with god

everything hidden rots.

bring it into the light.

the light burns first, then it purifies.

you can't leave until you're clean and you're not clean yet.

god loves a willing sacrifice.

don't cry, tears mean you still care about the wrong things.

you feel watched because you are.

he doesn't speak to everyone.

you don't need sleep.

you need prayer.

rest is for the faithless.

you'll thank us later, everyone does.

your body belongs to the congregation now.

we won't hurt you.

god doesn't make mistakes.

you were meant for this.

you don't hear him because you're not listening correctly.

you're safer when you don't move.

faith requires discipline, discipline requires pain.

pain requires trust, trust us.

you won't be the last.

god loves patterns, that's why we repeat ourselves.

if you question me, you question him.

you're shaking again.

we warned you about curiosity.

now look at you, open, raw, and ready.

don't cover yourself, shame is part of the process.

you don't need dignity where you're going.

you need obedience.

you're becoming holy and holiness leaves no room for ego.

you asked for meaning, this is the cost.

don't beg, he doesn't negotiate.

you can scream.

he won't stop, he never does.

you don't belong to the outside anymore.

you don't remember life before us, that's mercy.

you feel lighter because we took something essential.

faith isn't gentle, it's thorough.

you don't get to choose how you're saved.

salvation is invasive.

god prefers a broken will, it fits better in his hands.

you don't need your reflection anymore, mirrors are vanity.

you'll see him soon enough.

we don't bury bodies, we return vessels.

don't ask what comes back, you already know.

you're afraid because part of you still wants to live.

you'll be grateful when the wanting stops.

he's inside you now.

faith feels like drowning before it feels like floating.

you're not dying, you're being corrected.

don't say his name wrong.

you should have left when you had the chance, but you stayed.

you don't need forgiveness, you need erasure.

the following is a collection of sentence starters from larian’s baldur’s gate 3. part 2.

look at me - i’m not a monster.

stay back. i don’t want to hurt you, but i will.

no. you’re not one of them at all.

i was ready to run you through. my mistake, friend.

that’s far enough. what’s your business down here?

you revealed our location? that tongue gets any looser, (name), and i’ll cut it out.

reckon i might miss this place.

this place is more dangerous than i thought.

well, don’t you cut a fine figure.

sometimes i’m jealous of that girl. ugh - to feel so invincible again.

in your expert opinion, what’s the best way to kill a devil?

i’m certain there are answers out there. we’ll find them together.

there’s no story. none that you’re entitled to hear, anyway.

you can tolerate a great deal of suffering, so long as it has meaning.

until then, all i can do is endure.

please try to understand that it’s not something i can just talk about freely.

perhaps there’s potential in you.

honestly, your faith is your own concern. i won’t judge, one way or the other.

i think i did well by joining you.

you already know my biggest secrets. what more can you ask?

that wall’s an illusion! hiding what, i wonder …

sun, moon, and stars will still be there, waiting for us.

this place is pretty spectacular, isn’t it?

no book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice.

a perfect ring of mushrooms … nature, or magic?

hmm. i thought that might’ve done something.

another illusion. is anything real down here?

i’m more concerned with this ‘twit’ who set a spectator on you.

a rival - a mere footnote to my legend. you should be more concerned with who i am.

the fools must have turned back. or, better yet, died in the search.

i need no more rivals. try to take this as a compliment, yes?

this presence … this magic is not divine, but fey.

little? i am a god! and i’m gonna rip you - tear you - wear you for a hat -

don’t do anything hasty, now.

i’ll just kill you and claim it for myself.

i’m the lord of murder - i’ll show you why.

if you’re expecting me to drop to my knees before you, forget it.

a wizard’s tower is his sanctum, a private place for research and respite. but as this wizard’s not home … i say we take a peek.

a strange place for a button. especially one that doesn’t work.

what good would it do for me to be troubled? we can’t save them all.

you’ll have to speak slowly. i find it quite difficult to concentrate with my condition gnawing at my insides like a teething displacer kitten.

the whole village is falling to pieces …

hey, maybe we can scare up a few dusty bottles of wine somewhere.