There were tiny things on her scales.

Standing on the podium that Vim’s mother’s statue stood upon, I studied the small objects detailed into the marble stone. At first I had thought they were stacks of coins, but upon further inspection it seemed each one was its own thing. They were just shaped into coins in form, in shape, but they had little intricate designs etched into them to tell one what they actually represented.

One stack, on the left side, seemed to be the representation of emotions. At least, that was the best way I could explain it. One coin had a smiling face, detailed and very expressive. Too expressive, actually… almost as if it might not be happiness but something else. Glee maybe? It was slightly hard to tell, since it was half covered by the coin stacked upon it.

The next coin stacked upon that one, it too half hidden by another upon it, had the image of a ship with torn sails. It looked like someone was in the ship, but they were alone and slouched. Sunken into themselves, as if defeated. They weren’t rowing, and the ship itself looked battered and torn. Since the coins seemed to be themed, I assumed it was the feeling of defeat. Loss, or depression maybe.

The coin atop it, the top of the pile, had a man holding a spear high above his head in a stance of victory. There were bodies piled beneath him, and he held a decapitated head in his other hand. A scene of victory and pride, maybe… but there was a hidden truth in it. Behind the man, lurking as if emerging from the pile of bodies beneath the victor was a shadow. One with a knife, aimed and poised, mid-strike. The meaning of conceit, or dangerous pride, was rather obvious. Especially when I looked at another coin, one that had been etched away from the pile. Looking nearly as if it was about to fall off the scale it was on, as if it had wobbled off the pile somehow.

That coin was envy. The scene was of three people, two who were happily kissing and a third who was hidden behind the trees in the scene behind them. The woman peering at the happy couple had a very obvious expression of jealousy, with the way she was glaring and crying. It was actually very fascinating at how detailed the coins were, since they were only a tad bigger than real ones.

Vim had made them almost too well. Almost as if they were more finely made than his mother even was. Had that been on purpose, I wonder?

Shifting the lantern, I went to study again the other side of the scale. This one didn’t have coins upon it, but tiny figures. They reminded me somewhat of the little game board pieces I played with on occasion. They were small, finger sized, people… though I didn’t recognize any of them. There were a dozen of them all stacked and piled in the center of the scale, each with an expression finely detailed into their little faces.

I couldn’t tell if the pieces of people also represented emotions, but it didn’t seem so to me. Especially since they all had similar expressions of grief and fear… if they were to represent things on a more figurative scale, why would he have made them all so similar?

Maybe they were gods…? Or people he had known? Or people his mother had known…?

And if so what did it represent? The scales were balanced, perfectly, so did that mean the people were equal to the coins of emotions? What if the coins weren’t emotions at all, but something else I didn’t understand…? Whatever they were, they balanced each other out.

Vim had said once that she had taught him in a unique way. That she had made him argue against his own beliefs, as to teach him how to see things in other’s perspectives. Maybe this had something to do with it? That the scales were meant to showcase how she weighed things, if even just to teach him something…?

Or had his mother judged people, maybe? Supposedly some gods did such a thing, didn’t they? Weighed the souls of us lesser creatures…? Based off their actions or emotions in their lives? Maybe their sins…? Was it all related… Or was I reading too much into it?

Would Vim tell me the importance if I asked him, or would he just smile softly and shake his head at me?

“Hm…” I lowered the lantern a little and leaned away from the scale she held, as to look at her once more.

I was glad now that I had come back to look at her. My last two visits I’d not checked the scale itself, not as closely as I should have. I had not noticed anything on them the last time I’d seen the statue, thanks to my having looked at it from below. Although the items on the scales weren’t very tiny, thanks to the angle of where she held them they were not visible from underneath the statue. I was simply too short to have seen them.

My first time seeing her, with Vim, had been somewhat cut short. He had tempted me into the nearby baths, drawing me away from her. But my second time seeing her, a few days ago, I had come alone and had time… but I had also cut my visit short since I had been so utterly devastated by the revelation that those prophecies Merit and I had found had brought.

Now though, my heart was a tad more settled. I had read enough of Celine’s prophecies, and others, to know more about what they had expected of me. I knew now why so many have acted the way they have around me, and kind of why they were so angry at Vim. Although still bothered by it all, deeply, I wasn’t so disturbed by the new information that I wasn’t capable of focusing.

Plus burning all of those books and scrolls about me and Vim had been rather… relaxing. Therapeutic, as Vim would call it.

“Still, you really were beautiful…” I whispered as I stared at her face.

Vim’s mother had looked a tad older than me, but still had that youthful aspect to her. Plus I liked how her hair looked braided, even though it really wasn’t. Vim had mentioned she wasn’t finished, that he had planned to put bows and stuff in her hair, and I could see where and how he would have put them had he finished it.

Should I do my hair up like that…? Could I even do it? I didn’t think my hair was long enough, at least not with the way it was now. But maybe Vim would like it if I did…

Bending down a little, I adjusted the lantern I carried so I could try and see between her thighs. She wore an odd dress, weirdly thick pants with a lot of pockets and buttons and stuff, and they parted in a way that slightly revealed her legs.

Of course I saw only plain stone between the little slit opening of her pants, which made me sigh. “Not sure why I’d think Vim would have detailed her that much,” I said as I stood back up.

She was taller than me, even with me standing on the pedestal with her, but not by much. If I took my ears into account I was likely the taller… but she had no shoes on. She was barefooted, while I wore my boots for traveling.

I wonder how tall his father had been?

Reaching out, with as much care as I could muster, I gently touched her chest. The stone she was made of was cold, and smooth. My fingers ran along her strange clothes, barely making a sound as they did.

Just how had he carved this…? With his spear, maybe? I couldn’t imagine anything else cutting something so well. It almost felt like the stones you’d find in a river, smooth as can be.

I coughed a little as I stopped touching her, since it felt silly and rude, and I stepped backward. I stepped off the small platform, and again noticed how from off the little pedestal I couldn’t see the stuff on the scales.

So weird. The pedestal wasn’t that high off the ground, it reached a little above my ankles, but it seemed it was enough. It made me feel short.

“My name is Rennalee… Vim and others call me Renn most of the time,” I said softly to her.

I smiled a little as I shrugged. “Vim… denies what you are, but I think I know. I think you were as much a god as the ones he kills, at least… if not a real one in truth,” I continued. My voice echoed quietly in the halls of the catacombs around me, making my ears flutter as I listened to my own voice come and go as it did so. I sounded silly sometimes.

“I wish we could have met. I really do. I… would have liked to have known you. I don’t think I know any other mother as good as you had been, and… I’d have liked to have talked to you about so many things…” I spoke gently as I stared into her stone eyes. They weren’t looking my way, of course, but instead out over my head. As if at something in the distance.

“Not to mention I’d have thanked you… for bringing Vim to life. I’m…” I felt my face grow hot, as if I was actually speaking to someone, and smiled happily at the silliness of it. “I’m so utterly thankful for him I can’t even explain it. So, thank you, really,” I finished.

Of course she didn’t respond, but I wished she had. She had to have been a god, right…? Why couldn’t a god take over a statue with such perfect likeness of themselves, I wonder?

In the scriptures I’ve read, from the one taught here in the Cathedral and the few others I’ve seen over and heard of over my life, gods were said to be beings outside the realm of normalcy. Even when they died, they didn’t. They came back to life, and whatnot.

I wonder why these ones didn’t…? Had Vim ever said the gods he killed came back to life…? Surely not, right?

Humming as I pondered, my left ear twitched as it heard something. I turned my head, and lifted the lantern a little… and sure enough saw the silhouette of someone approach.

At first I was on guard, expecting something weird. I’d just been thinking of gods, and their supposed ability to survive death and whatnot, so it had been a little uncomfortable to so suddenly have someone show up down here in these catacombs at this time of day. Yet as they got closer, lit up by their white robes, I relaxed and lowered the lantern.

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“Randle… is everything alright?” I asked as he approached. We were to leave in the morning, shouldn’t he be busy?

“Yes, all is well…” Randle nodded with a frown as he stepped over to me, and then once close enough he turned to look at and study the statue I stood in front of.

Uh oh. Woops.

I should have moved.

Shifting a little, I gulped as I realized I’d just kind of spoiled it. Ranlde was studying the statue of Vim’s mother as if… As if…

“She doesn’t seem to be related to you in any form… so Vim is it?” he asked carefully, studying her deeply.

Gosh! “I…”

“Hm, likely something he doesn’t want to share. It’s fine, then,” Randle said simply, as if it really wasn’t that big a deal.

Grumbling softly, I bit my lower lip for a moment as I shifted and glanced at her. “You don’t know about this statue?” I asked carefully.

“No. But I don’t know of many of them down here. Most were made by people I had little to do with, my own focus too beholden to things that had been more important back then. I cared not for one’s past time down here when I had people starving and dying up top,” he said simply.

Great. “Sorry…” I whispered as I looked away from him, and the statue.

I had just burnt a small library of such stories. Stories about me. About how I’d been late.

To hear it spoken of so plainly by a man such as him… hurt. As if I’d just gotten stabbed in the heart.

“For…?” Randle turned to look at me, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him frown.

“Well… I’m just sorry…” I whispered, unable to say it.

Randle had to know. Of course he did. Though now he was no longer a part of the inner-circle of those who ran the Society, he had been back then. He had been a part of Celine’s most trusted supporters. There was no way he hadn’t known of the prophecies, of how I had been meant to show up early and change everything. To change Vim.

“I see… you know now, don’t you?” Randle asked.

My ears fluttered as I glanced over at him, and flinched. He had a small smile on his face, a knowing one.

“Maybe… I think so? Yes?” I said, unsure of what else to say.

“Hm… Quite a heavy burden… isn’t it?” he asked.

“No. Because I’m not carrying it. The me who should have been didn’t arrive in time,” I said.

My tail squirmed as I heard my own voice, thanks to the stone hallway we stood in it had been rather audible. I sounded like a scorned child being sassy to her mother.

“Quite so, in a way. Yet now you must carry one all the same. In a certain sense… you now carry one more special. Less souls, but thrice as heavy,” Randle said.

“I don’t like how you sound so indifferent,” I said stiffly. He sounded like he was talking about the weather or something else mundane.

He chuckled at me. “Sorry. I’m currently wearing my confessor cap,” he said.

Cap…? “Cap?” I asked.

“Hat. I was saying that I was playing a character, or at least channeling one.”

Huh… “That’s a neat way to call it,” I said. I’d use that myself later.

“Surprised you’d not heard of it before. Vim uses such a saying often… or at least he had, at one time.”

“Vim’s been… busy,” I said.

“Indeed he has. But for good reason. So, can I ask how you found out…? Does Vim know?” Randle then asked.

“I found Celine’s journals. Ones hidden in the archive… or well, Merit found them. But I had a suspicion before then, based on things I’d heard on whispers and stuff,” I said.

“And… Vim?”

I shook my head. “If he has an idea or knows, he’s not shown it. I… don’t talk much about such stuff with him. You know how he is with such things,” I said.

“Yes. A pain in the rear he is. To be honest that was how I had always interpreted your presence changing him. To be the one he’d listen to concerning such things, and not just listen but accept them willfully too,” he said.

I blinked as I stood up a tad straighter, so promptly that the lantern in my hand made clanking noises thanks to my movement. “Huh…?”

“Hm? It was just a thought. Celine and the rest had always said you’d make him more suited for his position… and I’ve always just assumed and…” Randle’s voice faded a little as the world around me blurred a little.

My mind felt weird as I stopped breathing for a moment as my thoughts seemed to go still and quiet, and then it all came rushing back with a loud uproar. Like a heavy lid slamming shut on a trunk or chest, it all just… clicked and made sense.

Of course! By Vim’s parents it was so obvious!

“That’s it exactly, isn’t it!” I groaned as I reached up to cup my face.

“Hm…” Randle shifted next to me, obviously bothered by my outburst but he said nothing more as I groaned and hated myself.

Of course it was that simple! That obvious! How else could I change him, realistically? Yes he’d change, naturally, with my presence… my love and stuff, but to such a degree that the fate of the Society would change so drastically…?

“Gods…” I groaned as I rubbed my face and then turned to look at the excommunicated priest. “That’s it, isn’t it? I’m supposed to be the one who gets him to listen to prophecies. For real. In full,” I said.

Randle frowned at me, and then his missing arm’s sleeve fluttered a little as it moved. He glanced at his missing arm, scowled at it, then with his remaining arm reached out to gently grab me by the shoulder. “I cannot say, Renn. I had simply assumed that would be it, but I had never heard or been told what it really would be. It just… made sense to me,” he said gently.

I noted he had just put on his confessor hat again. I smirked gently at the thought, since it was such a cute one. “It has to be it. Do you know what Vim’s been calling me? Concerning this stuff?” I asked.

He frowned and shook his head.

“Buffer.”

Randle blinked. A single, heavy, blink. “Oh. Yes… and he does so on his own? Did so on his own…?”

I nodded. “Yes. He thought of it before I had. Long before.”

Randle’s hand squeezed my shoulder as he slowly nodded. “Then… yes. That has to be it. Or at least, a part of it. I mean, do you not agree that’d be important? Momentous, even? For Vim, for us all, it’d be a huge change. A massive boon. I can’t even count how many prophecies had failed thanks to Vim’s antagonistic views of them, and that’s just the ones I know of,” he said.

I gulped and nodded. “Yes… I can see it. If I’d been around back then, and capable of explaining the prophecies to Vim in greater detail… even just a little bit would have possibly changed their outcomes. To say the least of him hearing them in full from me, or thanks to me,” I said. Even just the few I’d read with Merit were good examples of this. For instance Nebl’s family… they who had suffered from a disease of some sort. If I’d been there back then, and had relayed that prophecy to Vim years before it had happened… he might have been able to have come up with a cure in time to save them all.

The thought made me want to weep again, to break, but I didn’t. Instead I focused on the future… and the possible lives I could save in it.

“Is it possible, you think? Do you think you can get to that point with him?” Randle asked me.

“Yes. It might take time, maybe even years, but I think I can. He’s already getting to a point where he’s willing to hear more than ever before. The ship prophecy, the one that Light sent him to the coast for, I had nearly retold it in full to him and he hadn’t even blinked. His eye had twitched, but that had been all,” I said with a point to my left eye. I omitted the fact he had been more focused on flirting and kissing me than the prophecy at the time.

Randle may be a man who kept secrets, but I wasn’t going to confess to something like that so readily. Even if I wanted to kind of brag about it.

He finally released my shoulder, so he could cup his chin in thought. “Does anyone else know of this?” he asked.

“Light does. She even…” I groaned as I remembered and then nodded with a flinch. “Light had even mentioned she was hoping I’d become his in-between. To dampen his hatred and vehemence as she put it towards prophecies,” I added.

“Which means that’s exactly what it is. She’d foreseen it all, or at least her mother had. Huh… well, Renn, I’m sorry it’s kind of simple but don’t feel too bad over it. It’s actually quite a feat… I myself have bore witness to Vim’s utter wrath to such things. He’ll even kill others to keep to his rules, as wild as it is to think so,” Randle said.

“I know. And I don’t feel bad over it in that sense, Randle… I’m just upset it took me this long to realize it. It’s so obvious!”

Randle chuckled at that. “Is it though? It’s as they say, the closer you are to something the harder it is to see it.”

“So they do,” I mumbled. Vim has said that before too.

Actually, Randle said a lot of things that Vim did. At least, the sayings and little quips and stuff. I wonder if he learned them from Vim over time, or if Vim and religion were just… more in-tune than Vim would ever admit?

“Still, I’m glad you seem to be taking it well. Honestly I’d be a little overwhelmed if I ever found out my life had some greater meaning, such as yours has,” Randle said.

“Gosh, don’t even make me start…”

He chuckled at that. “We’ll have plenty of time for you to do so, I’m sure. Not to change the subject too drastically, but are you ready to leave Renn? I think it’s time.”

I nodded. “Yes. I had been hoping to see Oplar before we left, and spend more time with everyone else, but I just gone done with lunch with the Chronicler and Mapple, and to be honest I’m glad to get going now. I almost got roped into some scheme concerning a new cardinal? Someone being sent south?” I said. The Chronicler had gone on a long and windy rant about how much safer it’d be for the group heading south would be if they had someone strong with them. It had honestly been kind of unnerving; since she had made it rather clear they hadn’t had any prophecies about them or anything. She had just… wanted someone like me to go with the man and his group. And I just so happened to be there, and as such available, in her eyes.

I don’t think she had actually been trying to convince me to go with them, but at the same time I felt like she would have been happy to hear me agree to do so. It almost felt as if she was hoping I’d abandon my quest up north… which was weird since she seemed to think I’d be up there for a few years…

Randle frowned at that. “I’m no longer involved in such workings… so I can’t help you there. But honestly I’d say it’s better to not get involved in such things, if anything to keep Vim’s attitude in check. He’d not take kindly to you getting wrapped up in the church’s inner workings,” he warned.

“You’re telling me. I offhandedly suggested to Vim I might spend time while we’re up north learning more of your religion and he broke the fork he’d been holding at the time in shock. You should have seen his face,” I said with a smirk, thinking of the moment made me happy.

For a small moment Randle didn’t say anything, but then he sighed at me. “I’d be more than happy to help you discover more of faith, Renn, but please… don’t do it too drastically. Vim’s destroyed more religions than he has the gods which spawned them, and he’s brought low an untold number of them. Please don’t add mine to that list just yet,” he said, sounding rather serious as he did.

Gently reaching over, I patted the now troubled priest on his back. “Worry not, I actually kind of like your religion! I’d not let him break it so easily!”

Randle didn’t seem to find that humorous at all. In fact it seemed to bother him so much he had dropped the conversation entirely.

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