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Soft footsteps on stone, followed by a muffled cough. She looked up into the carving above her. The vast expanse of the vaulted ceiling seemed to have its own biosphere. A cold, musty atmosphere with stone trees, wooden rocks, and little humans that milled around in the ornate building. She was interested in a carving she had yet to find, it was of a lady who, from accounts she trusted, seemed to stare through your soul and into the past that it held, and not what you had. She had heard this woman was more gorgeous than that of anyone she could meet and she had wanted to find out if both of these statements were true.
She stared up at the archways and then the second tier of arches-- mouth slightly agape as she held the sight of a statue on the first floor. It was shrouded in shadow, but she knew that it was the statue of the lady. There was an undeniable shape of a shrouded figure in the edge of the lights that showed the murals in the walls. She was there and Rose couldn't wait to see her.
Excitement built in her body at the space where her ribs ended-- just behind her stomach-- and she drifted off to find the staircase up there. She searched all around the wall that she was under and found only graves and stained glass windows. Rose followed the walls to wood panelling up near the nave, and there was a staircase that climbed into the lofts and a steward stood by the entrance, she went towards them.
"This is the entrance to the upper lever, am I correct?" She spoke at them staring at the worn stairs.
"Yes, if you would like to go up please wait here before the tour group gets down, it should only be a moment or two."
She stood off to the side taking pictures of the mosaics on the ground as the tour group trickled out of the stairwell and heaved itself away to some other obscure part of the cathedral. She quickly made her way back over to the stairwell, nodded at the steward and went up slowly.
Silence muffled her footsteps and the cool stones pressed up against her in the narrow space. She ascended and her excitement lifted her head in anticipation.
She reached level ground and it was a long moment before she moved to walk closer. As she stood staring at the carving, Rose's mouth opened slightly, it seemed like she wanted to say something, but she couldn't. It seemed to be a lady, delicately shrouded in the heavy stonework, her head bowed as she knelt on the platform and her hands were out, palms facing the simple cross vaults above her. Her face was smooth, a look of quiet, sweet acceptance held her eyes closed and the corners of her mouth up, ever so slightly. Goosebumps rose on her skin as she stepped closer, still studying the lady trapped in the stone. Candles burning, dying, and dead littered the stones around her, on the pedestal she knelt on, and on her outstretched palms.
The feet and fingers of the lady were glossy, rubbed to shine from all of the visitors a plaque was set into the wall behind her. She was donated by an anonymous artist, with the instructions to place her as high as the cathedral could, facing the people, and to keep a flame lit in her presence. She was a guardian, of healing, and comfort-- and Rose was enamoured. She had been feeling off that day, her trip to the cathedral spurred by the feeling of competition would get her moving. She had an ongoing game with her close friend, Dave, to take as many aesthetically pleasing photos in one outing. Yet, as Rose locked her eyes on the statue, thoughts of competition, of anything other than quiet, calm, acceptance, disappeared as if they were wiped away like layers of dust on a glass. Rose stood in the presence of the lady, and something tickled the back of her mind, letters were stringing themselves into words, which floated around to form sentences.
Hello, my dear, breathe, for I am here.
Rose reeled back slightly, how had those words needled their way into her mind? The feeling of calm washed over her once again, and cautiously she reached out to hold one of the statue's outstretched hands.
She gasped as the air turned cold, and she looked at the statue, but it was no longer stone. Her hand was encased by two bright hands, clawed and rough. The creature staring back at her was beautiful, a shroud of cloth delicately woven to portray the universe, horns decorated with woven chains, and a shimmering gown that flowed out from the being.
"You do not know me, do you?" They said, beautiful makeup and glowing skin illuminating the darkness around them.
"I- I feel like I know you, but I know I don't, it feels like we've known each other for millennia, who are you?"
The creature smiled, it was sad and filled with love.
"I am Kanaya, we were together when this world began, I, unfortunately, was not as lucky as you turned out to be, you were a god, able to live through this world, I, unfortunately, had not received that status when the world began, and I lived my life as long as I could, and my legacy held itself, the cathedral to the Knight of Blood is my home. You knew him."
Rose was silent, was she hallucinating? She could feel the cold stone under her hand, the smell of candles dying, and the still air of the cathedral, but she could feel the cool darkness around her, see and feel the creature in front of her.
The creature had finished talking and was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something.
"How is this possible, is this some trick?"
The creature's ears shifted as they smiled, "My title was the Sylph of Space, therefore I can manipulate a section of reality to hold... a piece of me, I guess it would have to be. I am long dead, but a portal unlocked by the very gods who created a world, can be opened to have a chat, get some advice, or to just relax for a while, but I will warn you that time does pass as it usually does outside of this pocket, for I am not your brother."
"I? My brother?"
"The Knight of Time, Dave."
"The Knight of... Sylph... Gods..." Rose's breathing began to spiral out of control, something in her mind was breaking out and the vision disappeared, memories came back, knowledge of so much began to crowd her brain and the world went dark.
She woke up to the steward hurrying up the stairs, the candle in front of her flickered to the rhythm of her breaths and she had a slight headache. The steward knelt next to her with a bottle of water in one hand and a candy bar there was a medical backpack slung on one shoulder.
"Ma'am, are you okay?" They helped her into an upright position.
"I, yes, just a little banged up, I bumped my head a bit. It's not a concussion..." She trailed off as they began asking her standard questions, just to make sure. She had never had a concussion before. But she knew how to tell what one was, she looked up at the statue, at Kanaya and it all clicked into place. Instances of this have happened throughout her entire life, from the end of Kanaya's time until now she had just repressed it all, to unlock it again and again until she disappeared.
She looked at the statue in dismay, she had chosen to do this because of pain all that remembering caused her.
But there was Kanaya, she loved her so much she thought back on all the days they had spent together, she was walking down the stairs to the ground floor, the steward leading her down. Tears started to form in her eyes the gross feeling in her chest that pushed at the back of her throat began to swell and she stopped for a moment eyes on the dark ceiling. The steward waited patiently, they didn't turn around or talk. When the feeling passed for that moment Rose and the steward continued to the front of the cathedral. Rose was sat down in the café, a small meal was placed in front of her and she decided to call Dave.
The phone rang twice then: "Sup, whatcha up to Rose?"
Rose opened her mouth, closed it again and choked out, "I... saw her again..."
The line went quiet Rose sat at the table staring down at the meal they had given her, it was a kid's meal, small, but enough to get something in her, just the right amount of sugar to get her up and going.
"Uh, I'll be right over there, the cathedral, right?" He said quietly.
"Where else would she be, they were pale 'till the end."
"Yeah, uh, yeah--" his voice broke as if to signal her that he began thinking about him as well"--they were."
He hung up and Rose laid the phone on the table, staring at the black screen, centuries ago Kanaya had done this for her, and every century, Rose forgot so she could remember the pain and remember her.
Her friends had always remembered, and Rose didn't want them to be alone in their pain again.