Aylin's heart raced as they neared a heavy wooden door, its surface worn and adorned with old, faded carvings of religious symbols. The Cardinal produced a key from within his robes, the metal glinting faintly in the candlelight as he unlocked the door with a soft click.
As the door creaked open, a cold draft swept out from the chamber beyond, and the smell of ancient parchment and dust filled the air. Aylin stepped forward, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. Shelves lined the walls, filled with tomes, scrolls, and dusty books.
The Cardinal stepped forward, his hand trailing along the shelves as he surveyed the contents. "I'll need to search for a few specific scrolls and texts. This might be a bit dull, so please bear with me," he said, offering a gentle smile. "It'll only take a moment."
Jiang shifted uneasily next to Aylin, letting out a soft squawk. "Wait," he said, his voice carrying a note of concern. "If we're this secluded, what if the Yokai decides to strike right now? We know he's close and watching."
Aylin's brows furrowed, her mind immediately flashing back to their previous encounter with the Yokai. She turned toward the Cardinal. "What about the Yokai? He could come after us, just like when we were with the priest back in Jiang's home country."
The Cardinal chuckled softly, not breaking his focus as he thumbed through a particularly ancient scroll. "Tell me," he said, his voice calm, "why aren't you dead, then? And your friend?"
Aylin blinked, momentarily taken aback. "I'm... I'm not entirely sure. The Yokai tried to grab Jiang's neck but failed. Then he just stared at a jar of water the priests were about to drink... and left when they entered the room."
The Cardinal's smile widened, as though the answer was obvious. "Well, humans have a natural repellent to demons and Yokai in the physical plane. For whatever reason, they can't physically harm us as easily as they'd like. However, they're more than capable of attacking spiritually—manipulating thoughts, driving people to evil acts, influencing actions in subtle ways."
Jiang's feathers ruffled slightly as Aylin digested the information. "But once a place is blessed," the Cardinal continued, "a creature like that could never make direct contact. So it's highly unlikely your Yokai will show up here—at least, not in a way that would harm you physically. I imagine he barely has a body to use right now."
Aylin let out a breath, her shoulders loosening a little, though the tension didn't completely leave her. "Woah... I thought you didn't know anything about Yokai or monsters."
The Cardinal chuckled again, his fingers still busy searching through the shelves. "Oh, I don't know much, firsthand. But I've read a lot in my long life—documents that were never meant for public eyes. Most of which I passed off as... well, stories. But in your case, it seems they are far more than just myths." He paused, glancing back at her. "But rest assured, the Yokai won't be able to harm us on these sacred grounds."
Jiang squawked softly, nudging Aylin. "Look," he whispered.
Aylin turned, her eyes following the direction of Jiang's gaze. There, standing at the entrance of the chamber, was the Yokai. It lingered at the far steps, its form barely visible in the dim light, watching them with what could only be described as barely contained rage.
Aylin tensed, but she stayed rooted in place. "He's watching us," she said quietly, her voice steady. "But he can't touch us here."
The Cardinal gave a soft nod, unshaken by the creature's presence. "Exactly. He is powerless here."
The hour passed slowly, the weight of the Yokai's presence looming as the Cardinal continued his search. Finally, he straightened, several scrolls and ancient readings bundled carefully in his arms. "I've gathered enough for us to work with," he said, his voice calm but purposeful. "Lady, please hold these for me while we return to my desk."
"I've gathered enough for us to work with," the Cardinal said, his voice calm but purposeful. "Lady, please hold these for me while we return to my desk."
Aylin took the scrolls in her arms, her grip firm as they walked back toward the main building. The Cardinal led the way, speaking with calm reverence as they left the crypt behind. "This church... it tells the story of life and death. The bones you see, the structures—each is a reminder that death touches us all. But our spirits, our souls, move beyond this plane."
As they moved through the grand hall, Aylin's eyes were drawn to the details. The pews were simple, wooden—normal, yet above, high on the ceiling, bones formed the chandeliers and supported the arches. Skulls and bones crafted with care, a strange harmony of death and design.
Jiang lagged behind, his steps slowing. A sharp pain shot through his neck. He stumbled, his vision blurring. "Ugh..." he groaned, barely audible. The room began to spin around him, a sickening dizziness overtaking his senses. He glanced up and saw it—a faint blue line leaving his body, stretching into the air like an invisible tether.
Aylin, noticing him falter, turned quickly. "Jiang, are you okay?"
The Cardinal paused, concern crossing his features as he noticed the penguin struggling. "What's wrong with your friend? He looks ill."
Jiang collapsed to his knees, his body trembling. He could feel his strength leaving him, his breath shallow and weak. The blue line pulsed from his neck, faint but growing stronger.
Suddenly, the air around them shifted. The temperature dropped rapidly, and a dark presence filled the room. A deep, guttural voice echoed, seemingly from all directions. "I've waited long enough to regain my form. I just need to consume you, penguin."
Aylin's breath caught in her throat. She spun around, her eyes darting across the room, searching for the source. The shadowy figure, barely visible, emerged from the far end of the hall. It was distorted, its form incomplete, but its glowing razor-sharp teeth were unmistakable. A hand, dark and clawed, extended from the shadow, reaching toward Jiang.