Seraphin De L'Amourt

Thok! Thok! Thok!

The sound of knocking resounded through the empty halls. Elsid arose from the high backed chair by the fire, the one where he had held his first son, and began walking down the dark wood panelled halls toward the door. Elsid had sent the last of his servants home for the night, he was alone at last. The mansion felt like a tomb without his Lania. She had died ten years ago and left Elsid alone to care for the mansion and family legacy. Their children had all died; of plague or at the knife of a depraved murderer. These times were dark and he was tired of living them. He was tired of the maggots at his feet vying for power after his immanent death. None deserved his wealth and none deserved his title. The people of Ustalav were wasting away with a corrupted conscience and decaying humanity, he would be happy to leave this place, happy to join his family.

The knocks never repeated themselves, but Elsid knew his visitor waited at the other side of his heavy front door. The door handle was black iron, cold to the touch. He savored the sensation, and let it run through his arm to his heart. He tugged at the handle and the heavy door slowly opened. Outside was a dark and quiet night, muffled by mist and lamplight. He wouldn't miss nights like this.

The man at the door surprised him. He had expected an old priest in robes. Instead, before him stood a man in his twenties, handsome and dark featured, wearing fine black clothes, a well trimmed goatee and wide brimmed hat with a feather in it, he had a kind smile.

"Good eve-ening"

"Can I help you?" Elsid asked, could this be him?

"I believe I can 'elp you. Please, the night is bitter upon my bones." The young man replied, indicating inward with a gloved hand.

"Right, sorry, I expected..."

"Someone different?" The young man asked.

"Quite, aren't you a little young to be doing something like this? You should be chasing love and women. You should be having your heart broken." Elsid wished he could have it all back, this man's youth and a whole heart. Virgin to the pains of the world.

Stepping inward, the young glanced back answering, "Ah, I have loved as you speek, but The Lost Maiden saved my heart monsieur, yours it seems is all but withered." He took off his gloves and examined the richly dressed mansion. Elsid's many tapestries had all been quite dear to him, adorning the entry way like shrines in a temple. The man looked them up and down, obviously impressed.

"You are leaving all of this to the church?" He inquired.

"Of Pharasma, yes, here are the papers." He led the man down the long gallery into the hall with the great fire place. On the large table in the center of the room; the one where his family had feasted and laughed was his last will and testament. Picking up the folded parchment, he glanced it over.

"Very well, this shall suffice. The church of Pharasma greatly appreciates your donation monsieur. As does the temple of Naderi."

"Sir?" The name was unfamiliar.

"Naderi monsieur; The Lost Maiden, she is the one who shall ferry you to Pharasma for judgement."

"Will she unite me with my loved ones?"

"Most certainly Monsieur, she will show you to them."

"Very well, see that the Temple of Naderi is well compensated, now, how do we do this?" He realized he was impatient. All this talk of business, he wanted only to see them again.

"Please Monsieur, sit down." The young man guided Elsid to his chair by the fire. It felt fitting. The best moments of life had been spent here. Reading to his children, wooing his young bride to be, making love in front of the crackling flames dancing in the hearth, holding his wife's hand when they grew old together. Elsid relaxed and let his frail frame melt into the old wooden seat. Generations of his fathers line had sat in this seat, he wondered how many had died here as well.

"Monsieur, I must ask, are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Do you know, I loved once?" the man took off his hat and placed it by the fire."A woman as beautiful as the stars in the sky." He removed his jacket, revealing his puffy white shirt and tight vest. He had a dagger tucked into his belt, thin, and elegant, made completely of what looked like silver. The church of Pharasma must be doing well."But of course I was a priest of Pharasma, and she was the spawn of vampire. It never would have worked." he wandered behind Elsid. There was a raspy sound of a dagger being drawn. "She threw herself into the river and drowned, her body washed up outside the Abby. As Pharasma would have it, I was the first to find her." The man held the knife near Elsid's heart, playing with the blade idly. Elsid closed his eyes and readied himself for what was coming next. "And so, at that moment my heart broke within my chest. I withdrew my pistol, for I was not always a priest, and directed it to my heart, wishing to blast out the damnable thing. It felt like a raging beast within my me. So, I blasted it out."

The blade fell into Elsid's hand."I missed. A friend found me, the priests of Pharasma revived me, and Naderi earned my faith. I was not supposed to die." The young man looked into Elsid's upraised eyes, he loomed over the old man like a beneficent spirit and smiled. "Make sure that you do not miss monsieur, your heart is here." he tapped on the left of the old man's chest.

Elsid raised the dagger and placed it where the man pointed. It's tip dug into his skin, the metal was sharp and cold. He took in breath, his last breath and the young man placed his hands upon Elsid's shoulders like his father had done to him. A warmth drifted through his body, he felt sleepy and fearless, he could hear the sound of his children laughing through the halls of his house and his wife laughing as they made love. He was going home.

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Saraphin watched as the man let the dagger slowly slide into his heart. He smiled the whole time. He was in Euphoria. He watched as the man's life drained out, steadily waning, he had hit his mark. There was no blood, the blade drank it all, and when the old man was finally dead, Saraphin removed the dagger. There was also no cut in the flesh where the blade had entered, only a small tear in his shirt.

He had done this many times before, but it always made him sad. It reminded him Lucina and the love they had shared; the love which they had lost. He slowly walked over and grabbed his hat and jacket, then he collected the old man's papers and tucked them in his vest, against the heart. This had been an especially lucrative task, for both churches, something which Elsid's potential heirs would never forget. Luckily, none would know how the man died. It was a cold night and he was all alone, all had gone according to plan.

Seraphin touched the wound on his chest. It still hurt like a broken heart. He could never pay the professor back for what he had done, saving his life and trying to save his love affair. Unfortunately some things were beyond the power of mortals. He should pay the man a visit. The world was a wide place and Naderi's hand was needed in all corners of Golarion, there were so few who served her.

Seraphin walked out the door and into the mist. No living thing would tell of his passing, only that of an old man, gone to meet Naderi on her lake of souls.