Another Dreary Hunt: Forbidden Studies

6 O'Clock: Evening Reveries

"Rom!" I called, brushing the messy strands of brown hair away from my glasses as I looked up from my book. The library was quiet today, more so than usual. I could hear the soft shifting of paper as students poured through their own texts, engulfed in the knowledge before them. I, myself, was enjoying a delightful cup of tea with my studies before they were rudely interrupted by the bells. It happens every other night now, the warning bells of Yharnam as the city locks down for their nightly cleansing. The Hunt. Such an ugly word for it, makes them sound like the very beasts they claim to kill. Byrgenwerth closed for the night too, leaving myself and a select number of students trapped in the library for the night, hardly the worst position to be in.

One such student was Rom, a foreign girl with long frizzy blonde hair and eyes like the sombre moon reflected in the lake outside the library window. She waltzed in with an armful of books, a tired look on her face and sweat dotting her brow. "I know, I know Chester." She slammed them onto my desk before selecting two for herself. "Just how long will it actually take you to finish that paper?" She lightly clouted me with a book before I stood up with a twirl, pointing a finger in her pale face. "Quite a while, actually. Laurence entrusted me with this research."
"Laurence, Schmorence. That man is mad, I tell you."
"Ah, but his madness is what makes him so great. Church Hunters, Rom! If what the rumours say is true then what better way can we do good for the city?"
"You can start by writing!" She flicked my glasses into the bridge of my nose before returning to her armchair and beginning to read. I took a glance at the large volumes by her side; the first was a recounting of the history of Yharnam with a few more modern views of the Healing Church's blood ministrations; the second was nameless, a scratched and old book with a strange blue cover. Rom was fascinated by the healing blood, where it was collected and how something so basic can seemingly cure any illness. However, one thing which always alluded her was the reason for the outbreak of the scourge, and how on this green earth it relates to the blood as many say it does.

I rarely bothered with the how's and why's, rather focusing on the what's. What could be done to contain the scourge? Should we ask for outside help, or barricade the city? The important questions needed the finest solutions, thus I sat back down in my writing desk and poured over diagrams of bladed canes and gunpowder. I jotted down my own thoughts on their designs and flaws, how we could utilise them in the hunts. I even slipped in a small experiment I had been working on between the drab lectures and studies. If there was one thing I loved Hunts for, it was how long they felt. One could cram in so much work as the snarling messes of fang and fur chase each other round in circles.

Half an hour passed before Rom spoke up. "Chester?"
"Mm-hm?" My fixed my glasses as I turned to her. She was reading the strange book, running her finger across the parchment as she scanned with her eyes. "You're not thinking about joining him, Laurence that is...Are you?"
"What? Of course not!" A lie. "I'm simply assisting him, there's no point building a workshop in Cathedral Ward if nothing there works." Rom looked pleased, at least she would have if she took her eyes away from the book. Instead I saw a smile creep across her face. "Good," she giggled. "I've seen how you get around the experiments!"
"Just because they're necessary doesn't mean they're not creepy!" I returned to my work, only faintly hearing the melodic laugh of Rom ringing like a chime behind me.

While the thin scribble of the quill scratched in my ear I heard the gentle footsteps of Rom, her white student robes unkempt and beautiful in the glistening blue moonlight which seeped in through the patio window. She looked out into the lake, said nothing. She just...Stared for what felt like hours. Her eyes darted around, seemingly catching each individual star before they locked onto the great orb in the lake. The shimmering white orb plastered onto the blue bulwark like a doorway, and Rom saw this. She slowly opened the glass door and stepped outside into the ice cold winter night. It was then I noticed she was barefoot, the quiet slap of her feet against stone drawing ever closer to the grey railing between her and the water. I followed, almost infatuated with the strange sight and as I approached I heard her muttering. First was in her native tongue, one I regrettably did not understand. Then, she spoke in common. To this day I fail to comprehend what her words meant, for now in my dreary mind they sound like the twinkle of starlight rather than words.

At that time, I heard the girl I had known for years disappear, and instead someone else speak for her. It whispered, "Kos, hear our prayers." with its palms clasped in worship. I reached out my hand to touch her, but as the Rom-thing turned towards me I looked in horror as above her head green glowing pustules began to open, a Garden of Eyes.