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Copia walked tentatively towards the Emeritus Crypts. It was nearing midnight, so no other siblings were out. He held a single book and a dim lantern in a tight grip. He stumbled over some rocks in the gravely path, but was otherwise fine. The weather was clear, and the temperature felt as refreshing as ever. In fact, despite the mood Copia was in, it was a perfect night. Copia had hoped to be able to stay out tonight, but considering the full moon, it was prime time for something else he’s been wanting to test. He itched at his skin, his hands were clammy beneath the gloves and he kept fidgeting beneath his robes. His heart felt like it was clawing its way out of his body, through the hole in his stomach. In what felt like no time at all, he was stopped at the entrance of the Emeritus Crypt.
He opened the crypts doors and was greeted by stairs immediately. It looked like it could go on infinitely, with only a flicker of a torch light to signify the bottom. He meekly stepped onto the stairs, feeling with his feet to find the edge before going onto the next one. He grasped his book tightly, his knuckles turning white against the spine. The book read “Evocator Lunae” with crude drawings of skeletons along the front and back. He nearly tripped multiple times, but somehow he lived.
When Copia made it to the bottom of the stairs, he took a deep breath in, then out. He hesitated near the doorway before entering the Crypt fully. The papa didn’t need to travel too far into the crypt, as his person of interest was in the first room. In this room, the walls were covered in Latin words and drawings of the papas. Copia remembered faintly doing these in his madness previous nights when he attempted what he was about to do again. He wasn’t sure if the madness was brought on by his spells, or his failure. But whatever caused it caused him to write all he knew about the Emeritus brothers along the walls. He felt proud that he was always the most keen observer, but he wished it wasn’t like this that his abilities were displayed. He sighed, of course he had to do the most dramatical display of love and remorse. He wondered briefly if the others in the clergy had seen it, or perhaps even him in that maniacal state. He shook his head hard to reset himself, he couldn’t get distracted tonight.
In the middle of this cursed room, there were three caskets. Behind the middle one was a door leading to the rest of the crypt. All of the caskets were closed; however, atop the middle casket was a dead Terzo. He was in his papal regal and his paint was done like the last time he stepped on stage. There were also golden stitches across his neck, a haunting reminder of Copia’s rage and madness five years ago. Copia wondered if Terzo knew he’d be painted as an icon after his death and brought along like a show pig to all of his upcoming shows. His frown deepened.
Copia shivered as he felt the cold dead air of the tomb brush past him, as if pushing him towards the dead papa. He didn’t pursue it however, as he had other plans.
His supplies were already set up on Secundo’s casket. It felt most appropriate to put the ritual items on his mentor’s casket, a sign that he had become much stronger than the kid he used to be. Even if he graduated from kid to adult just four years ago, after realizing he so desperately needed the papa’s back after killing them with Special Ghoul.
He set down his book on the casket and flipped it open to a marked page. The Orpheus ritual. The ritual was inspired by the Greek mythology of Eurydice and Orpheus, in which Orpheus had sung hymns so well about his dead lover Eurydice that it brought Peresephone and Hades to tears. They had agreed that Orpheus could go retrieve his lover on the rule that he could not look back to Eurydice or the underworld on the stairway to the overworld. Well, he had failed, as he looked back in fear and doubt his lover was there at all. Eurydice vanished into thin air and he was left standing alone once more.
This ritual meant that he could never look back at the one he was casting the spell on until the end. Copia didn’t like that he could be potentially wasting precious time, but he had no choice. He was running out of options.
He grabbed a small bowl of hand crushed chalk and began to sprinkle it in a circle around Terzo’s casket. He was light at first, to make sure he covered his basis, then began to drop it heavily to make a thick line. After that, he reached to grab a vial of red. It had a mixture of pig, ghoul, human, cow, and other blood. He went to dip his hand but stopped midway. He realized he did not want to get his gloves stained with the stench of blood. He huffed, delicately taking the gloves off and folding them onto the casket. He grabbed the vial again and put his hand in. His nose scrunched up in disgust at the smell that hit him as he took out his hands. He dripped the blood onto his forehead, chest, shoulders, crotch, and shoes. He muttered some Latin incantations he memorized as he did this, and his breathing became harsh as he realized he was really doing this.
He turned back to the casket, with one last thing on it. A dagger. It was old, Copia got it nearly on his first days at the ministry after hitting of age at the orphanage and getting kicked out. It was a gift from a younger Primo, who had always stressed caution and safety to the younger sibling. He went to the front of the casket- where Terzo’s shoes were- and turned around. From here on out, he could no longer glance at Terzo.
Copia trembled, he pulled back his left sleeve and brought up the arm to horizontally align with him. He gripped the dagger in his right hand and brought it to his form arm. The cold metal made his skin prickle up and he winced. He drew in one last breath, before slashing down on his arm. He let out a yell, dropping his dagger and reaching for his arm. He hissed out, tears pricking at his eyes as he cursed in Italian. He couldn’t stop now though, he had to continue.
He began a mantra in Latin. He let his arm go and let the blood spill into the chalk. He watched as it weaved its way through the chalk to out of his eye range. Copia hoped it continued to make the circle. With shaky hands he brought his fingers to the large slash and put a line of blood from his forehead to mouth, all the while still calling out the mantra. He heard sounds, whispers, but he dared not look back.
He tenderly reached down and grabbed the dagger again. Without hesitation he slashed again, and he fell to his knees. He gasped out in pain and heard the blood falling to the ground. In blurry vision he could see it forming a near perfect circle around him, it had to be working.
He stopped the mantra, calling out in one last breath “ Satanas, spiritum e regno tuo solve! ” He closed his eyes, reaching to the sky, and all was quiet.
Nothing dared move or breath. The sound of silence was becoming unbearable, just like the pain he was feeling. He began to deeply regret thinking this ritual would in any way work. It was too simple, too quick. He opened his eyes and shakily brought his arms back down. He began to heave. He was going to bleed out at this rate, but he wasn’t sure if he cared anymore. At least then he’d be with Terzo.
He sobbed painfully. Every breath he took in and yet not a single noise was coming out of him. He was just a pathetic quivering mess for the world to see. He brought his hands to his face, trying to hide his shame as he rocked back and felt his back hit the casket hard. He barely looked up to see shoes in his sight. He stopped breathing.
He was paralyzed. Copia felt like a deer caught in headlights as he pulled his face away from his hands to follow whose shoes it was. It felt like it was unmistakable, but he had to be certain.
The pants, the garb, only one papa had been able to pull it off effortlessly without looking like a balloon bag.
“ Terzo? ” He barely whispered. He couldn’t move, but he saw the former papas' heterochromatic eyes flash in recognition.
“Copia?” Terzo bent down to one knee, unsure how to take the pitiful man in front of him. Copia wasn’t sure how to take it, he was certain he had gone mad. But if this was madness, maybe this is the true state he belonged in.
He snatched Terzo’s robes and brought him closer, as if afraid to lose him again. He wept with anguish. He could barely process Terzo’s smell as all that filled his nose was blood .
Terzo pulled back instantly, making Copia feel dejected until he saw the concern in the papas eyes.
“You’re bleeding badly , Copia.”
“And you were just dead two minutes ago!” Copia exclaimed back. Terzo nodded and stood up. He looked around the room before spotting wrappings and ointment. Terzo didn’t have time to look around the room in astonishment just yet, he had to fix Copia.
He grabbed the wrappings and rushed back to Copia, “Mio cara, I don’t know what you did but I am here and you are on the ground near death. I am thankful for you.” Terzo’s italian accent was heavy. Copia nodded and brought his left arm up. Terzo began to work, applying ointment quickly to the wrappings and putting them around his arm.
“You were prepared,” Terzo muttered. He didn’t understand what was going on, but was thankful for all of Primo’s lessons in safety and training. Copia nodded weakly, shaking below his touch.
“Si, but you’re alive!” Copia replied with astonishment. He brought his right hand up in awe as he pulled back a strand of hair from Terzo’s face. Terzo stopped momentarily, eyes fluttering shut at the touch before refocusing on the wound.
“And you were an idiot, yes?” He finished tying the last bit roughly to his arm to apply pressure to help stop the bleeding. Copia groaned at the pain and his head lulled to the side. Terzo sat fully down and began to undo his stiff papal gown. He took off the hat first, as it was always a pain to keep on anyways, and undid the belt. He looked around the room, eyes widening. There was so much carved into the walls. He was able to understand bits of the Latin, as he understood that one of the stories on the wall was of him and Secundo as kids, stealing each other's clothes.
“Did you do this…?” Terzo murmured, looking over to Copia. Copia was panting but was able to shrug.
“We need to get you checked out, you’ve… you’ve been gone for five years, Terzo. Your brothers… we’ll get them next, I promise. But first, you.” Terzo hesitantly nodded, his head hurting already.
There was so much to take in. The crypt, his brother's caskets, his casket. As he helped Copia up, his eyes latched onto where he was laying before. It felt like he had woken up from an airplane trip, unrested and sore.
Copia stumbled into Terzo. He was still light headed from the blood loss but tried not to show it. He pulled off of Terzo and the duo helped each other up the stairs. Then, they went out of the crypt and into the Abbey. What should’ve taken less than five minutes took a half hour. Both were slow and in too much pain to make it any faster to the nursing station. It wouldn’t be long after entering the Abbey that they got the attention of a sibling of sin, who practically woke everyone up with their screech upon seeing a alive Terzo.
Most after that was a blur for Copia. They were tossed hands to different siblings and brought to different areas. He passed out not long after hitting the bed and vaguely remembers Sister Imperator coming to visit. When he was finally conscious, he saw that Terzo was stationed right across from him, staring him dead on with a glower that Copia had never seen before.
“Terzo?” He muttered, sitting up.
“Special Ghoul came around,” He spat out. Copia felt a rush of adrenaline hit him all at once as his heartbeat raced. What did they tell him?
“And…?” Copia managed out.
“Why?” Terzo’s voice cracked at the words. Copia looked down at his hands, scratching at them unnecessarily.
“I… I cannot recall anymore…” He breathed.
“You took… you took five years of my life!” Terzo strained, wringing his hands out, “Nearly all of them! For… for what? For something petty? What? What is it Copia?” He shouted out. Copia bit at his bottom lip as he tried not to cry.
“What for? Jealousy? Papacy ?”
“Shut up!” Copia screamed out, tears falling involuntarily down his face, “You’ve got no idea, the… the amount of shit I dealt with before that, after that, all of it! You don’t fucking know the half of the shit I went through to get you alive and here, you don’t know half of the fucking shit that I had to deal with before that incident! ”
“Well, that ‘incident’ nearly cost me everything! My brothers are still dead, Copia!” He screamed back. The doors to the nursing facility burst open, Sister Imperator the first to walk in. The boys fell silent, both heaving. The only thing that broke it was when Copia began hyperventilating.
“Boys, please . Calm down,” Sister Imperator spoke softly.
“I-I’m going to get them alive. Y-you were the first! It can be done!” Copia barely had the breath to speak, but he was so desperate to get Terzo to understand him, even in a small capacity.
“You’re not doing anything, C,” Imperator said sternly.
Copia looked up at her with wild eyes, “If you think you can fucking stop me then by all means, try. But-but-but-” He clutched at his chest, and his world went black.