The day where everything changes

The day or rest of Archdeacon Doolyn spoke of doesn't come. It may never come again...

Screams tear you from your deep sleep in the middle of the night. Without thinking, you run out of your room, still in your humble undergarments. You see Sister Rosita on the ground, going through some degree of shock, consoled by another Sister of the clergy. You sit on the ground with Rosita and try to get her to calm down to talk

"Sister, it's me." As you rub her hands in yours "What's wrong, what happened? Why are you out of bed so late?"

She can start to form words. It doesn't take much to convey her fear "I-I-I saw M-m-monsters! Three, great gray beasts!" They looked right at me, but ran out of the church into the city!"

"Go make sure everyone else is safe!" You prompt the other sister "I need to alert the Archdeacon" You give Rosita a brief word of console to Rosita "Don't worry Sister, you're going to be okay. Stay here for now, try to get back to sleep when you're ready to move again" The final instruction given, you sprint to Archdeacon's residence and study. You stop dead outside, fearing the worst. The heavy oak door torn completely from its hinge, splinters strewn across the cobblestone pathway. A cold gust of wind blows from your back into the room, stirring the contents inside, and awaking you into further action. Your heart fills with dread as you search and find that Doolyn is nowhere to be found. You take a few deliberately long breaths to try to keep yourself calm in the moment and keep your wits about you.

Aside from the door torn completely asunder, there is no sign of **** or **** in the room itself, no dead bodies, or any sight of blood. All of the furniture is where it should be, so no evidence of struggle. The bed was even made, the sheets folded with precision. All evidence suggests the Archdeacon wasn't in the room when the monsters came into his room....but that didn't make sense either. If they were monsters, as Rosita described them, there still would have been something moved and torn about in this room, just in the process of looking around, but there was nothing. This place was pristine, like someone cleaned up after themselves after they left, or like the door being destroyed was ancillary and nobody was even looking for Doolyn. Either way, he's not here, and not dead, so you steady your heart with that. With luck, the two of you missed each other and he's safe and sound.

Just as you prepare yourself to leave, you spot something on his desk. A thick tome, under which is pinned an envelope, pressed closed with a royal green wax seal, bearing an unfamiliar crest and design. Flipped to the reverse, written in the Archdeacon's fluid and pristine penmanship, Demetria, your name. You take a seat in the chair and open the envelope, to read the letter inside. Looking over it immediately, the first thing you see is this is clearly the work of a calm and patient hand, not written haphazardly or under duress.

My sweet Demetria,
Doubtless, my absence from the Cathedral has precipitated you finding this letter. Upon my writing, I know not the hour of my departure, nor the hour in which you will find this, but I am certain it will be you to find this first. Know that my absence is inevitable, and that it is a departure I do not anticipate to return from. Had you and the others been told, if I had even been able to know when this day would come, you would have only tried in vain to prevent the inevitable; machinations long since set in motion.

I leave you all because I must. I beg forgiveness from you and the entire congregation, for my presence in the congregation and as a leader is predicated on a lie. A lie of omission, but a lie nonetheless. I have kept a most precious secret from the moment I joined the church as a veteran seeking a higher calling. I beg the further forgiveness of this old soul, who still keeps his secrets about him. I provide no further insight, beyond this secret being the reason I must depart; the secret of what I really am._

_Do not search for me, I implore you. Even should you find me, I will not be deterred from my course, my destination, or my purpose. I am precisely in the place to where I have been called, as are you. You must take place within the church and lead the congregation. Not let fear cloud your heart young one, for you are more wise, caring, and capable than you know. This was always in your fate. From the moment you had become a member of the Sisterhood, I had not considered relinquishing my position to anyone other than you. There will be objections. I could even guess as to the most likely culprits. Know that these people are acting in the best interest of themselves solely, not to their fellows among our faith, the people we committed to lead, or to Phoenica herself and to her majestic glory. Defy them, as has been your way since you were a child, with all the spirit I know fills you in every step you take. You will do well in my place, and the people will benefit from your guidance.

I truly wish I could have given you a more proper farewell, you of all deserve as much, the most precious to me, so that it paints my heart to leave in such quiet and secret a manner. I will forever treasure the memories I carry of you, while they are still mind to hold. Until the end of time itself, you will be most my most cherished Child of the Lost.

There is a lot to unpack in his letter, and while his message of affection warms you, you cannot help but resent him for having left. What he is asking you to do, and to not do, are immense tasks. Whether to obey his last request of you or not is a decision not to be taken so lightly, in the middle of the night. You keep the letter a secret, for now. Speaking with Mother Ferguson, in charge of the rest of the Sisterhood, confirms that everyone else is safe and no sign of the Archdeacon anywhere. You try to get some rest before the sun arises, hoping a clear decision will come with the morning.