Level 29 ~ Patricia

A traveler? Great… Patricia watched the gaunt robed figure approaching through the misting sheets of rain in the streets. He had a large parcel of some kind on his back and seemed to be struggling under the weight. Patricia let her hands drift down to the bulge in her stomach. The Demon Hunter was supposed to take her away from all this. She’d been so close to convincing her parents to let her go away to Landis to study magic. She could’ve been great, seen the world and become famous like Andrew. But then her parents had to go and get killed by the demon and everyone just assumed she’d take over their inn. Why didn’t anyone care what she wanted to do? She hated this stale old inn.

If the townspeople didn’t donate the food for the pantry, The Old General wouldn’t even make enough money to stay afloat. Really, who were they all kidding?  Pender was dead; after the last refugees made it out of Karkarus no one came through here anymore. There was no need for an inn, and most of the other businesses were dying too, just more slowly. But everyone was so blind. There was no future here! But Patricia smiled to herself as she imagined the life growing inside her. Her son would take her away from all this even if his father had shunned her. It would be her duty to show him the world, to train him, so that he could join his father as a legendary Demon Hunter. The Order wasn’t going to die, and she was going to be famous for being the mother of the one who rebuilt the Demon Hunters.

“Ah, excuse me? You are Miss Patricia?” The man’s voice quavered, whether from nerves or the cold; she didn’t really care.

“You have coin for your room?” Patricia crossed her arms; nobody did her any favors so she wasn’t going to give anything away for free.

The man ran a hand back over his head. “I’m not here for a room. I am to deliver something to a Miss Patricia. It’s very important, I promised… May I come in?”

Patricia sighed as she stepped aside to let the traveler in. He better not take advantage of her generosity. Who would be sending something to her anyway? Nobody even knew her outside of this depressing little town. Then she saw it. The traveler laid his burden out on the counter and unwrapped It, water puddling on the floor under his feet.

“My soul was trapped in hell by evil cultists.” The traveler turned back to Patricia and she saw how pale and gaunt his face was, and noticed his friar’s tonsure. “Then he came. Horribly outmatched by the sheer number of devils, and yet he cut through them with all the fury of Heaven itself. He saved me, escorted my soul back to the edge of Hell—though something blocked him from crossing out himself.”

There on her counter, it was Banisher—still with Oracle set in its hilt. Andrew’s implements, but the sword was so badly damaged she might not have recognized it without the cross-road in the hilt.

“That was when she appeared. An arch-devil sure as anything.” The friar shook at the memory, “And she told him… He had left behind a daughter, and that a Miss Patricia was the mother. That was when he gave me Banisher and Oracle… He made me promise, promise to get his implements to his daughter! Then, then he turned and faced the arch-devil with nothing but his fists! I promised him! Please tell me I’ve found Miss Patricia! Please tell me my soul can finally go to Heaven!”

As Patricia nodded slowly, the relieved friar seemed to fade away. A daughter…


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