The comfort of those that know

"Are you awake, Mr. Croft?" A voice sounded out.

Lumière's eyes fluttered open slowly. He was lying face-up in a room lit up by a single incandescent lightbulb overhead. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the light, and afterwards, he quickly realised he was looking up at Adeline, the Bassist of the quartet. She had set Lumière's head on her lap as she watched over him.

"Did you watch over me for very long, Adeline?" Lumière asked hoarsely.

"All the other members had left, but I said I would stay behind until you woke up. They insisted on taking you to a medical facility, but I knew that would only make you feel worse, as you probably wouldn't be able to pay for it."

'This woman... she's right, but does she have to say it so blatantly?'

As Lumière regained his lucidity, he began to feel a remnant chill left permeating throughout his body.

'That scene... I've seen it before...'

'Why does this keep happening...?' Lumière wondered, his eyes and heart still holding remnant horror he couldn't dismiss. 'Was I hallucinating...? If I wasn't, then what was that? Have I really gone mad?'

He sat up, facing Adeline as he bowed his head slightly.

"I'm sorry to trouble you so much," Lumière spoke gratefully. "Please extend my apologies to the other members of the group."

"It's no worries, Mr. Croft." Adeline smiled softly. "I just hope that you'll continue to come listen to us practice more in the future."

'Eh? She knew about that?'

Lumière's face flushed with embarrassment, so he quickly stood up and grabbed his hat off of a hanger on the wall of the practice room, pulling it over his head as he bowed once more towards Adeline.

After bidding farewell, he walked out of the show hall. He made his way through the middle borough and down the flowering staircase. He went down the path that cut straight through the lower borough's factory district and soon came to Cobbler's Street. By the signpost of the street, two men stood dutifully as if watching over the street itself. It was Adonis Trinder and Eamon Stroud, the right and left-hand men of Constantine Adler, the leader of the Blackfeather Group that operated out of Cobbler's Street. Although, after the day's events, Lumière was in no mind to deal with them.

His body felt cold and anxious, and there was a sharp tingling on his skin that gave him a sense of imminent danger. His eyes narrowed and he bit at his tongue as he stepped onto Cobbler's street.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Croft," Eamon spoke cunningly, walking up towards him.

"Fuck off," Lumière spoke callously, walking past him without paying him a glance, adjusting his hat as he stepped forward. He had too much on his mind to mess around with the fools that clung to his friend Constantine like flies.

Eamon's eyes widened, and in a stunned silence, he just watched as Lumière passed him by. Adonis Trinder walked up, placing a hand on Eamon's shoulder as he adjusted his glasses.

"Pay him no mind. He's carrying a lot on his shoulders, so he hasn't time to play around with our childish games."

"What's childish about a greeting?" Eamon huffed, shrugging. "Sure I tease him sometimes, but can he not even offer us that much in return?"

Lumière made his way past the towering dilapidated stone buildings and up the steps of the hillside towards the monastery with two bell towers. He entered the door and crept past the sleeping bodies on the floor that had gathered around the many fireplaces. He then ascended the staircase leading up to the second floor and stood in front of Sister Alinde's room. His body was still slightly shaking, and his heart felt tense and cold.

'Even if it just means seeing her... we don't even have to talk. I just want to calm myself...'

After knocking gently, he entered Sister Alinde's room.

There were formerly-white linens still scattered about her floor, stained with all manners of paint and dye. Dozens of sheets of thick parchment hung up from clotheslines suspended from the rafters of the room, and an ambient orange candlelight bathed the room in a warm glow. The smell of turpentine and linseed oil had rushed away out of the open window, which let a thick torrent of rain drip slowly into the room, carrying with it the scent of damp soil and the spring season.

On the bed in the centre of the room, a woman with a head of flowing golden hair had wrapped herself up in woollen blankets, watching the amber sunset erupt past the harsh rainfall of the emerging night.

Lumière felt all the worries in his heart wash away as soon as he laid eyes on her.

He walked over and slumped down below her bed, leaning his head back against its edge as he smiled up at her. She didn't look back at him- but parted her lips as if to speak without greeting him.

"Do you treasure your memories, Lumière?" Sister Alinde asked, her gaze still falling upon the sky that had been stained purple and red by the sunset.

Lumière thought for a moment before letting out a relaxed sigh.

"Some of them. Sometimes I wish that others could be wiped away from my memory."

"Do you hate them? Those cruel memories of yours?"

"Perhaps," Lumière spoke softly.

"I wish I had the luxury of hating past memories."

Lumière only chuckled slightly as his lips curved up.

"You would say that to me of all people?"

His eyes focused on her. They weren't harsh, despite the tone of his words. His gaze was gentle and without malice- as if he only meant to tease her.

"No, you're right. I was wrong to say that to you without thinking. You of all people have memories that no one would want to remember."

"You still can't remember much? Is that ruining your appetite for happiness?"

"Yes, I still don't quite remember anything…" She spoke softly, a pained smile creeping up her face. "Isn't it pitiful, that I can't remember the things that should be most important to me? What's the point of it all, if I can't even recall where I come from?"

Lumière just shook his head in response.

"I can't remember my father's face. I know he was kind to me, and that when he was alive, my mother seemed the happiest she's ever been. Now, however, she can't fathom the idea that she has a son, as if she can't remember the slightest bit of me." Lumière smiled softly. "So, maybe it's just the curse of many… to forget important things. I don't think you have to blame yourself for that."

"Then who should I blame for it?"

"Do you have to blame anyone at all? Is it really any personal slight against you?"

He reached forward, grasping her hand in his with determined eyes as he spoke out, pulling her close to him. Her head fell flat against his chest as her eyes widened, her cheeks blushing a bright red.

"Your past memories… surely they held something important, and maybe they aren't so gone… I can always help you find them." Lumière smiled. "Until then, the present and the future are something to look forward to, I think."

'Sometimes, even those that speak their beliefs the most falter in them. I'm sure that for her, who can see that 'bright sun', it becomes tough to see the light through the dark clouds.'

Slowly, tears began to drip down Sister Alinde's face, and she buried her pained expression desperately into Lumière's chest as small sobs erupted from her mouth.

'We're all just broken individuals aren't we?' Lumière lamented inwardly, almost in a humoured fashion. 'So, as friends, it's our job to piece each other back together. What a horrifying world.'

'So, if I'm going to change the world in some spectacularly massive way, don't I need friends to help? Well, as long as I stay determined, maybe I can do it by myself. Although, if I have the choice, I would rather do it alongside someone.'

Lumière had to hold himself back from cursing at himself. Even saying such a thing in his head made his heart feel awkward and embarrassed. But he knew it was necessary to at least consider the thought. After all, if one man could conquer a nation and rule as Emperor, even if it meant using the army underneath him, then the concept of a man changing the world surely existed already.

If he were to do such a thing, he would first have to decide the root of the problem, of which he definitely couldn't grasp. If the material conditions of the people around him were the fault of class disparity, then he wondered if the fault would lie in the hands of monopolised mercantilism, and therefore be the fault of the Forger Empire itself, which seemed hellbent on colonising the entirety of the western continent while forsaking its denizens. For instance, in a market of 'freedom', anyone who could procure a sizeable amount of wares would be able to participate in said market. However, since the various tycoons and large merchant businesses had been bolstered and backed by noble entities, the means of the production of those wares had been seized in singular hands, and so there was only the drip-tray of opportunity left behind.

At face value, it meant that those who were lucky enough to be born into means had the opportunity, and those who weren't were left to struggle against the pittance of fading chance. Of course, he couldn't completely disdain the concept as a whole. It was a driving factor of industry and the growth of the Empire's technological fields. Those who had the mind to lurch forth through the mud of their struggle could find themselves at the top. It was a way to bring brilliant minds forth with enough effort. However, on the other side of that coin, it meant that those capable of growing up to be true geniuses- the inventors and innovators of the medical, industrial, and technological fields could have often been forced to be street sweepers, vagrants, and beggars instead.

But as long as Lumière had people around him willing to fight that struggle, he was sure he could topple it all, and enact some meaningful change to that inequality of opportunity.

So, letting his friends despair was not an option. Nor was allowing himself to despair any longer. In some fashion, he would improve their lives, even if it meant toppling the fastholds of an Empire.

Slowly but surely, in his arms, Sister Alinde's form grew softer, as if her tense nerves had all but vanished away. Her sobs had slowed, and her tears had begun to dry up on her reddened cheeks. She looked back up towards him, and as she met his gaze, her heart shook with a light flutter. Her mind raced as she suddenly recalled the day previous.

'Does Lumi… love me like that…? That woman asked him if I was the reason he wouldn't marry her… and he said yes.. rather, why did she say such a thing? Is Lumi being proposed to often?' Her eyes furrowed in an annoyed fashion as she thought of such a thing. 'Are other women vying for him…?'

She suddenly lurched out with her hands, grabbing him by the collar as she pulled him close. Her lips seemed to hover over his, and the two were stuck in a moment of heart-stopping silence. But her face brightened up with a dark vermillion-red, and her mind grew hazy, so she let go of his collar and fell back into her bed.

'Ah, I'm really scared to do it…' Sister Alinde pursed her lips. 'Rather… isn't this against the Goddess's teachings?'

She grasped at the copper pendant around her neck, symbolising the crown of thorns as her mind raced.

'Was this the alternate path that Father Benedict spoke of? Can I do this much?'

At the same time, Lumière sat at the edge of her bed in stunned silence, his face a bright red, and his mind completely blank.

'Eh? Did she just try to…?' A thought burst through Lumière's quiet mind. 'No… It could have been so many other things, surely. I can't just jump to that conclusion…'

Lumière smiled amidst his blush, shaking those thoughts away.

'But… even though it didn't really happen… it made my heart feel warm.'

Rather, apart from its warmth, his heart felt like it was beating a thousand times per minute. Lumière immediately stood up from the edge of the bed, failing to turn his gaze towards Sister Alinde. He felt that if he did, he might not want to leave her room for the night.

'Although, she desperately wants to be a servant of the Goddess… I know this much.' Lumière sighed inwardly. 'So how could I make it harder for her? I'm sure she's always been aware… how I've felt about her. But that much she's stayed silent about, so maybe this relationship between us… how it is now, is how it always should be. I don't need her to love me. After all, for my purposes, I just need her to be by my side as long as I may strive to change all things.'

Lumière smiled softly, as he let out a sigh, turning towards Sister Alinde.

"I should retire to my room now," Lumière spoke gently towards her. "It's quite late."

"Will you come to my room tomorrow night? I would like to speak to you once more, seriously this time." She spoke as her gaze shifted towards the window, where lilac-coloured moonlight gleamed through the crystalline windowpanes. Rain pattered on its surface, refracting the light in dozens of gentle beams that fell against the polished wooden floor.

"Sure. I'll visit your room tomorrow, then." Lumière smiled. "Goodnight, Sister Alinde."

After bowing his head slightly, he opened the door to her room, stepping into the hall, and closing it behind him. Sister Alinde was left alone in the darkness, still staring at the light that beamed through the window as the bright expression slowly fell away from her face.

'Maybe it's wrong to wish so… but just once, I wish you would call me by my name again…'

Sister Alinde let out a pouting sigh as she fell against her pillows, burying her face into them as she mumbled incessantly.

The night was drawn out, quiet, and filled with pent-up emotions of many that begged to be released into the sky of stars.