Chapter Text
There were many stories the little pilgrim heard of when he ventured to Pharloom, both good and bad, but his hope remained devout, and he can hear that song calling him to climb.
He very quickly found a wondrous town, how wonderful it was! Bonebottom, they called it, a beautiful starting point for a great pilgrimage to the Citadel above. He spoke to many of the pilgrims who rest here, before finding himself looking at the wares of a shopkeeper.
While many items offered look far too dangerous for a pilgrim to hold onto, his eyes did stay upon a wonderful little bronze chime. Its metal shimmered even in this place! He could hardly imagine its splendor, should he reach the Citadel! He purchased the chime, and the shopkeeper even gifted him a small silver pin. Oh, how wonderful it is, to wield music for his journey! The little pilgrim got right away to tapping the chime with the pin, singing a little song as he began his journey to the top.
As he sang, he wondered what things he would see, what people he would meet. His mind drifted to a sinful idea, what if I got to meet my mate on this climb? He had to shake that out of his head before he got too far. No, no! He cannot already be allowing sinful ideas to beseech him! He must focus on his journey!
Unfortunately, his journey seems to already have been put to a stop. Before him lays a great gate, made of tough bone! He examined the bone gate, before remembering the tales he heard. In Pharloom, all will open with song… He raised his chime and pin, and began to sing to the gate.
"Oh, hear me pra-aay, please, hear me siiing… My path's ahead!" His song was, as always, made on the spot, as all of his songs are, "But! Here's the thiiing, I can't squeeze past, o' gate of bone! So please wake up, and help me through—"
His singing comes to a stop as he sees something intensely red shift into view. "…Oh?" He turned, seeing a strange bug standing nearby. The intense red cloak they wore billowed around them, and their mask sported long, curved horns that pointed upwards.
"Hm. Why do you sing, small one? This gate seems like a rather poor audience." Her voice speaks out to him, soft, but curt. She glanced to him, and he realized he may have been staring!
"Oh! Of course I sing! I am Sherma," He bows politely to the red maiden before him, "I'm a pilgrim like yourself. I heard the call of the great Citadel, as have all devout souls! So I must travel up! But—"
He turns to the great gate of bone, waving to it. "Look here, red maiden! Right as we start our journey, we are already being tested! This gate stands in our way!" He clinged his bronze chime, looking to her, "Here in this kingdom, holy prayer and song opens the way forwards! Even the mightest of bone is moved by music! Now please, join your voice with mine, and with my lucky chime, we will use our voices to open this gate!"
Sherma eagerly returned to his song, now adding the red maiden to it, pleading the bone gate to open. Some part of him wished to hear her sing, but he heard her shift, before moving away. He was saddened, of course, but he silently hoped that their paths can cross once more!
He paused his singing after a few minutes, having heard something slash, metal hit metal, and then four deep bells ringing as the gate opens. He watched as it sunk into the earth, pebbles quivering from the mechanism churning. And there… There stood the red maiden, looking back at him.
Sherma is no pure fool. He knew, deep inside, she had opened the gate as his eyes drifted to that long tool in her hands. It looked heavy, but she wielded it like it had no weight whatsoever. As she approached, he perked up, glancing to where the gate vanished into the ground.
"Hoy! How marvolous it is, Red Maiden! Did you see? The great bone gate heard the song, and within its infinite, ancient soul, opened so we may pass!" He began playing his chime, smiling happily, "Oh, gate, great gate! Nicest gate to ever have met! Oh gate, great gate! Greatest marvel yet! Haha!"
He stole a glance as he sung. He wasn't sure, but he feels he caught the faintest grin upon her face. It made him feel as if there were fluttering Lifeblood Seeds in his heart! Oh, how he wished to see that smile in its fullest potential!
She left without a word, though Sherma believes it may have been for the best. He's certain he would've tripped over his words after seeing that ghost of a smile.
As he journeyed further along the paths, he would sometimes spot the Red Maiden. Every time, he sees her in a fight, but he feels none was her choice. He didn't try to spare another thought on it, him doubting his fellow pilgrim is a terrible, sinful thing! At some point, He thought he heard a loud laugh of another fellow pilgrim, but… the way this one cackled, he immediately wanted to walk away from it. Those laughs sounded so cruel, so calloused! Whomever they belong to, they must be very sinful to laugh in such a way.
He quickly found his way further up, though clambering along these walls proved quite the feat! He hoped his fellow pilgrims could find an easier path upwards! And lo, his questions for rest were quickly answered, there laid a building! Though beside it laid a pitiful looking pilgrim. Why did they not go inside? Sherma quickly rushed over, greeting the pilgrim.
"Hoy! Sister pilgrim, what troubles you so? You must be exhausted out here, all by your lonesome!" He could barely see it, the strings that tried to worm their ways onto her tired body, wrapping around it. He knew what it was—The Haunting, that terrible thing that befell some Pilgrims. A terrifying sight, to see his fellow pilgrims be reduced like this, forced to attack their brothers and sisters of faith! She only groaned a response, barely able to look up at him. Oh, this poor pilgrim… "Do no worry, my sister of faith! I will help bring your energy back, and together we can rest inside that shrine!" He lifted his pin and chime, and began to sing, "Come, whether you sing or hum, join me!"
"Now don't despair, pilgrim frie-eend, lift your sight up, raise your voice! Have no fear, it is tru-uuue, belief is a wonderous choice!" He sang delightfully, clinging his pin and chime in rhythm. Oh, how it delighted him to hear her weakly, but assuredly, hum with his tune! Oh, she was not yet gone! He could even see those almost-invisible threads back away, even just a little. Wondrous, the Citadel always provides!
Having heard footsteps, though, he stopped in his little merry tune to look. Oh! it's the Red Maiden! Though she does look a little worse for wear this time… Perhaps he can lift her spirit too! If song did not work on Red Maiden, then perhaps encouraging words should? "Oh! Hoy there! Aren't these fields marvelous? And further up, above us, the bountiful Greymoor! Where every pilgrim can fill their belly and rest!" He thrilled, looking up at the maiden as she looked around. She was so on edge, but for what reason? He couldn't quite understand. After all, the Citadel protects the pilgrims, do they not?
"…These humid fields are a wonder, indeed… But hunters prowl the long grasses. Playing that instrument will only alert them." She finally managed. Sherma followed her gaze to see a red ant glaring them down, running off upon realizing that it was not just spotted by the Red Maiden, but also him. Oh, how he wished to sing with all! Even those hunters! After all, music brings all together, does it not?
"Hahah, well then! Alert them I shall! After all, where many gather, wonderful songs are sung! Music is meant to be shared with all!" He rung his chime, looking to the pilgrim as she hums the little song on her own. The Red Maiden looked upon his fellow pilgrim, looking ready for battle! Perhaps she, too, felt the Haunting trying to grab this poor pilgrim? He cleared his throat, catching her slightly off guard. "Oh-yes, yes! This poor pilgrim seems to have found her resolve waning! When I first greeted her, she barely could even speak. Oh, but it is no cause for worry! My song will lift her from her torpor, and she can continue her journey! Come, join your voice with mine, Red Maiden! Together, we shall lift the spirits of our fellow pilgrim!" He continued his song, and the pilgrim joined him. His eyes wandered to the Red Maiden as she watched for a moment, before walking over to the door of that building.
He refused to stop singing until he could no longer see those threads grasping at his sister in faith, but he watched as the Red Maiden stiffened at something. She seemed so angry as she placed some rosaries into a device that opened the door. Perhaps that is why this poor pilgrim was not inside, she did not have enough rosaries to pay the door! It closed behind the Red Maiden after she entered.
He watched as the door opened again, and then one—two—THREE loud thwacks of metal-on-metal, jolting him into stopping and spooking his poor companion. A lever clattered to the floor outside, and the Red Maiden exited, Needle in hand. With a smooth motion, she sheathed her weapon, walking back in the direction she came from.
She paused, however, at Sherma and his sister of faith. "…The safe house is now available for all. It would be for the best to bring your friend inside and away from the silk threads." She spoke, her voice sharp, curt, but… He could feel that underlying care for others. Did she break the door so others can come and rest without worry? What kindness, even if it would have been a sin upon her soul! He nods, helping his fellow pilgrim to her feet. The Red Maiden watched them for a moment, before turning to leave. "Come, come! Did you hear the Red Maiden? You don't need to rest out here, my friend. We can sing more inside!" He helped the poor pilgrim inside. The poor girl stumbled and groaned weakly, clearly exhausted and losing her faith…
He got her inside nonetheless, getting her to sit upon the bench. Sherma went over to the shopkeeper, who started complaining about the Red Maiden. No wonder she was so angry! He was swindling so many for their rosaries, he could even see the gleam of the ones she placed into the device in the shopkeeper's pile of rosaries. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, good sir! Taking advantage of fellow pilgrims like this and making them pay to rest inside this building like that! I would not doubt that the Citadel would judge you sinful for such acts!" He scolds, wagging his finger. The shopkeeper shrunk at his words, though perhaps Red Maiden already yelled at him, if the slice on his desk is anything to say about it.
"Of… of course, of course. I am truly ashamed!" The shopkeeper bowed his head, and pulled out some items, "Please, as reconcile, take a look of my stock, and take any one you like, free of charge!" Sherma huffed, nodding in agreement at that. A worthy price for the shopkeeper to pay, he thought, to be forced to give away some items to repay for his crimes. The little pilgrim looked upon the wares, humming his little tune as he looked through the items. Most seemed boring, or useless to him—Some even dangerous weapons, as he tried to not get concerned over where the shopkeeper found such a sharp looking longpin.
"If… I may make a suggestion, my fellow pilgrim," The shopkeeper warily speaks up, catching Sherma's attention, "Greymoor is not the kindest to those unprotected from its weather. Perhaps consider something warm?" He then motioned to the thicker-looking robes, seeming softer and warmer than the thin little thing he's got over his own shoulders.
"Oh, a wonderful suggestion! Is it alright if I took two, sir? My dear sister in faith over there needs all the help she can get!" He motioned to the poor pilgrim trembling something fierce. While the shopkeeper clearly didn't want to give up all his wares, he thought better than to upset anyone now and nodded in agreement.
The little pilgrim jumped in his delight, grabbing the two warmest looking ones. He walked over to the other pilgrim he helped inside, carefully helping her put on the new cloak. She was still shaking like a leaf, but she definitely seemed a lot more… aware? It was hard for him to place a finger on it. "…Little pilgrim… thank you." She muttered out, raising a claw to grip at her new cloak.
"Think nothing of it! We are brothers and sisters of faith! Even if we all take this journey separately, we must still help our fellow pilgrim out!" He clinked his chime a few times, bowing to her, "I must be off now, but please take care of yourself, and don't lose hope!"
He waved to her as he hopped out of the safe house, glancing back as he watched her cling to that new cloak, rocking herself slightly in time to his song. Oh, how wonderful it was to see her regaining some of her faith, truly. He hoped she could continue her journey, and perhaps he could meet her again on the road ahead!