faithbound. [marquis & Earinor]

In a way maybe Ignatius realized now that this journey wasn't a fun walk in the park and they weren't a match for any demon around, especially not tired and beat as they were now. He worried a bit that Ignatius was more hurt than he let on, maybe even broke something during the fall without noticing, but there wasn't much Azrael could do right now to help either. He wasn't a great motivational speaker that could pull Ignatius out of his own gloomy thoughts either. Their situation was grim, there was no denying that. They had no ressources and were both hurt. For all the healing this guy could maybe do, he needed energy for it as well, energy which he didn't have right now. "Well, you also should keep your blood in your body. Tomorrow we will try and find some wood and oil. If these are catacombs I am sure we find a torch somewhere." Since it was dark either way Azrael was fine resting a bit longer into the day. They'd be able to sleep calmer at day regardless, demons didn't avoid the sun, they avoided this plane during day. The vampire would probably not follow them down here either.

Azrael felt himself up a little bit. He couldn't deny his back hurting from the multiple times he crashed into something, trees and stones. The pain from the punch in his gut hadn't subsided yet either. Maybe he had some broken ribs as well. He mainly just wanted to know how he was doing and his adrenaline let up now too. Tiredness washed over him like a curse. Azrael took his sheathed sword off his belt for better access once he'd finally rest up. Ignatius started to talk again, his voice still shaking, but he seemed too prideful to admit to it. Azrael likewise was not the comforting type. "Whether you carry an artifact or not doesn't matter. There was a whole army that got wiped out, so I already knew what I signed up for. It truly doesn't matter if you carry something or are the artifact yourself, someone is after us either way and it's also not your fault." That just means it was harder to give up what was so important. If he had to guess, he'd suspect the demons that were after the artifact before burnt down this place because they thought it was here already while also invading a vampires terriroty who simply wanted to know what was going on. That only put more guilt on Ignatius probably, so Azrael again kept quiet about it. The death of those people who once lived here was the demons fault, not his, but he might spiral down further. "Just try and rest a bit. We'll get out of here tomorrow." A white lie sometimes was necessary. Azrael couldn't promise it, but he wasn't going to give up either.

Was he made in gods image to spite the masses or was he simply made to fulfill their dreams? Ignatius was tired, he was spent, and much like a torch that had ran out of burnable material, he found himself exhausted and beaten. There were few things he could match with, less than the ones he’d found himself engrossed by and maybe, as he trembled and kissed that rosary of his, his chest wound was having its say as well - he wanted nothing more than for this to end as smooth as humanly possible, even when he ached, and as he did, he figured he could make something out in the dark; a faint glow, of something further away. Too tired to pursue it, he coughed a little. “They very … hah … likely are.” A broken record would help neither of them, but the temptations of darkness would come knocking at his door if he lost faith eventually; he’d fall if he gave in, so he clung to what little hope he had. How many times had it been that a saint betrayed their nature, that they sided with what went against their principles? Few, definitely not many, but those that did had persisted, and been promised riches beyond mortal comprehension. Ignatius, thankfully, was no mere saint - but every life, no matter how cursed, was maybe something sacred.

“Does it not? I’m glad.”, he sighed deeply, knowing that he was better to rest up now than complain in the morning, but there were so many words and phrases that rested on his tongue that he wanted to share with someone like Azrael right now. As gloomy as this guy was, as sincere did he seem, even if he didn’t let anyone close to that closed off core of his. “I … the next monastery we reach. I’ll ask for something that’s adequate to the magnitude of your task for payment. After that, you can probably retire.”, he blurted out, then closed his eyes. No more mumbling, no more prayers, no more false promises or broken imaginations right behind those closed eyelids of his. “And … I hate to be a bother. Can you teach me the basics, at least? I apologize for any grievances and my behavior.” He hadn’t been up to this mettle - in fact, he’d never known it would be this bad in the first place, but no matter, right? Ignatius wanted nothing more than to sleep. “Good night.” Rest tight; he was out like a light soon enough, only to stir early, groaning in moderate pain sometime the next day - he still needed to heal, but he didn’t quite feel up to the task, exactly.

Ignatius kept talking while Azrael didn't really feel up to the task. Surely there was something he expected, some encouraging words or something like habd holding through this, bjt Azrael didn't know what the priest wanted. Azrael wasn't even sure if he wanted to continue this journey with the priest and all the money in the world wouldn't help if he died. An army wiped out and a monastery too in only a short amount of time. He did believe that a smaller group would yield better results by flying under the radar of the demons and whoever worked with them, but was he confident that he could bring Ignatius wherever he needed to be all on his own? No and yet inviting someone they didn't know only posed more problems. What was important couldn't be stolen from the priest, but he could be very well sold to some demon or other by some greedy mercenary or hunter, or even one of his people. They weren't exempt from greed and Azrael knew that all too well.

He wasn't a good teacher either and he had yet to see if Ignatius learned to be more humble, or if this was simply a reaction to a dire situation he would forget once he slept in a warm bed for one night. Azrael closed his eyes and tried to rest as well. He was a light sleeper, but it was awfully silent like this was their own grave. Ignatius made some sounds in his sleep, but otherwise nothing was going on and eventually Azrael forced himself back on his feet. While Ignatius still slept, Azrael moved wome more rubble snd ventured deeper into the catacombs, searching for a light source. There wouldn't be any food or water, which was even more reason to get out of here quickly. He was lucky to find a torch on a wall with the little light he could make for himself and he wasted no time trying to light it. All hid tools like flints were gone, but he knew how to survive. He found some dry wood, not rotten like some of what was supposed to hold things in place here amongst rock, and used it to ignite a spark. With the lit torch he ventured ahead just a little bit, to get a feel of the place and maybe an idea as to where to go. There were some dead ends but also something that lookef like a long hall. Maybe at the end of it would be the sewers Ignatius spoke of. With that he got back to the priest and even found another torch on the way he grabbed as backup. As he squeezed back through the little opening he created, Ignatius seemed to wake up. Azrael came a bit closer, shining some light into his face. "How are you feeling?", he asked him.

Waking up in a situation like this was maybe the worst thing he could do - his motivation to actually persist against the horrors felt like it had hit an all-time low and the actual, sane explanation for that was that he, for the first time in his life, had hit rock bottom and was trying to get a feel for what it meant to actually be miserable. Naturally, he should persevere and think about the many things that he had experienced while under the influence of all the fate that he could muster the strength for, but in the grand scheme of things, he probably had to make sure he wasn't actually failing himself in these here catacombs. As he coughed, he wondered if there was dust that had settled in his lungs, and as a blaring light illuminated his eyes, he wondered if the angels of god had come for him, sent a choir to welcome him in their arms, but all that he heard was Azrael, who asked him a question so deadpan, he couldn't even blame him. The time out here had probably hardened him, not only as a hunter and adventurer but as a human, and he wondered if he could do the same, some day, years down the road - only to recall that there was no such thing in his future. His life, and fate, was sealed and about to be over in a few months time, maybe a year or two.

"Not great.", he lamented and forced himself up from where he had slept for the night, finally willing to move just a bit more, just ever so slightly further, to get away from this place and to find that he had somewhere else to be, maybe. Was he demented or just in the mood for some senseless fun? Ignatius wish he knew - this place, even illuminated by the slight flame of a torch so bright, was not going to get any more hospitable. "What about you?" He had held onto that rosary all night, and by now, it seemed almost ridiculous to prey - his dreams had been bleak, there had been no visions, no guiding light, and he again found it to be a punishment for questioning his fatih so easily, so early into his month-long tenure as he broke out in cold sweat over a few injuries that, were it not for his holy blood, had probably claimed him by now. "Did you find anything?" Assuming he had been on the move, anyway. Was there anywhere else to go? The sewers, not far from here, where that stale gust of wind travelled, and close to where that torch had to be from. Right now, he felt more feverish, and maybe a bit delirious - something that would go away, the moment he had time to cure himself of all. "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting." Better than to die in the night, maybe.

Ignatius didn't look very good, but he got up on his feet at least. "Well enough to walk on your own?", he asked a follow up question while he offered to help him up. How was he feeling? "Considering rhe circumstances, good." He was bruised and hurt but he had enough energy in him to go on and even fend off some enemies as long as they weren't too big. "You didn't keep me waiting. I found the torch and a spare and looked a bit ahead. I hope the way out, but you might know the layout better than me." Azrael was already moving towards the little opening and squeezed through into the next room which housed bones left and right. They were stacked up and there were a few coffins too. Otherwise there was nothing much going on, also not in the other rooms. Azrael lit the way out for Ignatius so he could follow him. There was no point in staying longer, there was no breakfast for them and also no drink or wash. They had nothing much to their names anymore.

Azrael held out his hand again in case Ignatius needeed a little pull. "Can I ask you something?" Azrael still had to make up his mind about his next steps. He knew the priest wanted him around, wanted him as his bodyguard, but Azrael valued his life and this might have been a task that was a bit too large for him. "What lies at the end of your journey?", he asked. World saving grace or something probably, but would that really be it or just something his church believed in? Azrael hsd a hard time understanding the blind faith of these people, but Ignatius clearly wasn't just some random guy. The vampire at the very least proved that, but he couldn't know what it all meant. Ignatius maybe didn't either, or only believed what he was told for being some holy savior in the eyes of his peers.

He felt washed, maybe a bit torn - he wasn't exactly in the most jolly mood, but at this point, who would be, really? For now, he considered his tenure on this journey to be his own doing - or undoing, if he were to doom about it. Silence was all that the wind carried today, even when it was no longer the whispers of new leaves, or the atuned elements that his god would deliver him messages by. Ignatius knew that down here, somebody else ruled, and while death was universal, and even one of gods own machinations, there wouldn't be anything new, per se, to deliver him anything. "I think so. I am ... certain, in a way.", he murmured as an answer, maybe an apology as he tried to match Azraels pace with the same feverent vigor that he had once carried upon his back. To be heralded as a hero, that was what lay beyond this journey. "I'm glad, then ... for both your sleep and the fact I didn't keep you waiting." One more cough, and the worst would be over as he squeezed through the little gap that Az had left for them. Was it something he had done or said in the past that made him become a disciple, or was it simply fate that ordained itself to him? "i know of it ... I can figure it out."

Having never left the monastery he was brought up in, and not knowing other people than the ones that he served, with body and soul, had its downside and all of them, no matter how big or small they were, showed themselves to him right now. Even if, he figured, there was nothing to hold either of them back and the echoing of their footsteps through the hallowed halls of a long-forgotten mausoleom was bound to at least alert the rats that called this place their new home. For now, he figured, this was far from horrible, and no longer even something that he would have to meet with a judgemental eye. "You're welcome to ask whatever you want. I have no reason to adhere to secrecy or white lies anymore." Whatever would have helped, in the past, he figured, would have been enough to keep things afloat, but tonight, they hardly did. It was silence, stacked atop his own, whymsical and fruitless efforts. Still, as he tried to orient himself in this maze, pushing forward to a random statue with an inscription that he spotted, he heard of Azraels questions. "For me or the world?", he questioned instead, by himself. "For the world, salvation. For you, a lifetime of peace. For myself, sainthood, but not in this body, or life.", Ignatius told him, battered and bruised as he was. "That's the purpose of my existence, anyway. Before you ask, no, I do not fear what lies beyond, and I don't mind that I'm the pawn on an empty chessboard. I've been told of my fate since I've been young, I've accepted it. I just know that, considering all those that have undergone this journey before me, some will sway and fail, and others indeed rid the world of whatever it was that ailed them in their times. For us, it is the demons and their spawn."

Ignatius was well enough and Azrael purposfully ignored all compliments and pleasentries the priest threw at him. If anything he wasn't sure if he was honest, or was just taught to talk loke this. Azrael was also not equipped to answer, he didn't know what to say and only answered to what he had something to add to. He noticed Ignatius cough, wondering a bit about it. Was it the dust, the rotten air, the broken ribs, or bruised lungs? Maybe he also caught something else, with his body being this weak and not able to fend off certain illnesses. Still, Azrael just wanted to make sure. "Your cough, are you alright? No blood or anything?" A punctured lung would be bad and would beed priority when Ignatius felt like he could wield his magic again. For now he led him down the bone lined hall he found before. Azraels pace was steady, but slower than he'd usually go, also due to the fact that they shared one torches light and he didn't want Ignatius to fall behind too much.

Azrael listened to what Ignatius believed to be true. Peace? For anything that ever happened in the history of the world he knew about, peace was a fragile thing and not only destroyed by the likes of demons. He wasn't going to ask if Ignatius was okay with throwing his life away, he knew how priests and the like worked, how devoted and dilusional they could be in their believes. Still, throwing away a fighting chance for humanity seemed stupid and whether Azrael died protecting him or someone else made little difference, even if his believes were wrong. "How can you be so sure any of this is true?", he asked still, not combative, he just struggled to understand the blind devotion. He stopped when Ignatius walked off towards some statue instead of staying on ther path. The hunter fomlowed him since he had their torch.

It seemed stupid now, but it had been way back when that he was told all of this would eventually pay off for a reason, and that it meant that he was going to be someone exceptional. In gods grand scheme, he alone was a middling pawn that, for all things worse than that, he was no longer responsible, but he understood how things were, and how they needed to be. As he looked at what was written at the statue, even kneeling down far enough to actually wipe the dust off of this thing, he sneezed. "Yes. It's more so the dust than anything else.", Ignatius replied, cocking his head back to see if Azrael followed him, and as he did, he motioned towards what was written there. An old verse, engraved in the tomb of someone, but he couldn't care less - it would help them get out of here, however, if they truly wanted to. "This should ... move and get us up to somewhere, at least. If you want this. But for that, we actually need to figure out how it moves." One could also pinpoint that there was no need for them to do that, if at least they looked for something like the sewers as Ignatius had spoken before - and then, they could set off a trap or five like this, which wasn't smart.

"Death lies west of here, beyond the grate - and in the east, there is but an x that marks a spot.", he recited the cobbled up words, for Az to understand. "So, going to the sewers in the west ought to kill us. But we don't have tools, aside from our hands, to even dig up that x if we wanted to." How boring, and worse, he couldn't even fathom what it was they would be digging for. A key? Treasure? These catacombs felt less hallowed and more sinister now if they bore a riddle like this. Perhaps to deter graverobbers? What did he know. "I ... have visions. They have showed me the world beyond the journey, and they always ring true, as long as I stay on this path. It is not believing in the delusion of god, but in my own, in any case." The delusion that he was having a god play into his brain, that was, and he knew that it sounded much like a stupid story of someone that became violently ill and, among all the seizures they experienced, found that they could hear the voice of a man that did not exist within this plane. What a stupid thing that was, no? "I know you're not quite willing to embrace things like that, given your distaste for the faith in a god that fails to protect a lone person. I am not going to force you to share in my delusions of grandeur ... you have every right to be skeptical."

Only the dust, huh? Fine then, Azrael didn't need to worry in that case, but he also couldn't be sure if Ignatius would hide any more serious issues. As he arrived at the status he held down the torch, closer to the plate that was on it, so Ignatius could see and read it better, since he seemed so interested in it. At first Azrael merely thought he was trying to orient himself, but apparently this was their way out or something? "I assume just breaking it to bits is not an option.", Azrael suggested. Not that that would be easy anyway. It was usually also not his way to try and get through walls with his head, but maybe he was the slightest bit restless down here as well. Catacombs were nice and all, but there were menaces hiding in these places. Rats, spiders, also the big kind. If they were unlucky even ghosts, ghouls or skelletons, but he expected a holy tomb to have taken necessary precautions. He wasn't in the best of shapes as well, he wanted to avoid fighting.

Ignatius actually read the description to him and apparently the sewers were full of traps. Fair enough, it was a weakpoint of the monastery if one could just walk in from below. "A riddle?", Azrarl asked, tjough it didn't exactly sound like one. Maybe the riddle lay in deciphering it in the first place, but that seemee no issue for Ignatius. "Doesn't say anything about digging, could it just be inside a coffin or something? We could use some bones for digging as well, but if the hallway leads to the sewerw and is west, east is where ee came from. Depending how far east this X might be burried by now. Aren't there any morr instructions?" What a vague description. Visions huh? Ignatius at least didn't try to force his believes on Azraels, he had to finf his own reasons to stay with the priest and right now he struggled to convince himdelf to do so. He'd not just abandon him, but he might just find someone more... Devoted to help him. "Not a lone person...", he mumbled, but that didn't matter so he didn't dwell on it. "It sounds too easy. Not the riddle thing, your way to peace I mean... But at the very least, demons are after you." But that could have other reasons, any number really. Maybe if this was just a myth, they didn't want to risk it was all. How did they learn about it though? Well... A whole army was raised, it was easy to hear about something big going on. Maybe they didn't know they hunted a person, not an artifact either.

"We could try, but that would maybe require a spell or something. Do you have one you can cast?", he questioned of Azrael, who seemed so confident that brute force would also do something for them; Ignatius wasn't sure, but he was ever so willing to actually give it a try and maybe see for himself why none of that was a good idea in the first place. "If not, we can probably figure something out with mine, but I'd rather heal both of us first, than waste it on something like ... a way out. Wait, that sounds insane.", Ignatius grumbled, rubbing his face. He was caked in grime and dirt and sweat and probably other substances that he wanted to wash off himself before he felt like he was up to any task again, yet, for now, he had to make the best of what he had and that wasn't a lot. Az was more ressourceful and experienced than he was for sure, and that was for a reason as well. Was this really the way he wanted to go? Was there even a way out of here in the end? A grumble, then a sigh. None of this made any damn sense and every second he wasted on it just seemed to make all of this worse and even more agonizing.

"Hardly, but yes ... and even if it is a coffin, we don't know if it is unlocked or if there's something wrong with it, that's the issue." Given the propensitiy of the church to sort of be ... harsh on those who ventured into their halls without any permission, or even something akin to a plan of what they were going to do, it only followed that something would happen, sooner or later. "No, it's simply that. The rest of it is a bible verse, so at the first glance, you'd think it's simply a holy text, if you don't know all of them by heart and can differentiate between what is going on." Suddenly, it dawned upon him however. Was Az not ... capable of reading? That didn't bode well anyway, but who would teach a commoner such things? Ignatius had to remind himself that he, alone, was maybe something special, and that the other priests had privileges similar to his, but not the common folk. "I see. It's not my place to pry.", he retorted. What else could it be? Did the hunter have family? Ignatius knew that word, but hardly what it meant. Maybe he could figure that out at some point. "My peace? I guess so. It's the only thing I know, and it's what I know I bring about. But ... I'm wholly underprepared to be anyones messiah, outside of all the theoretical parts." What a thing to admit. Ignatius knew himself to be not humble, but maybe weak. "What is it to you? Hogwash?"

"I can't cast magic. Not like you anyhow. If we hadn't lost all our stuff, I might have had something that would have helped, but it might also have brought this place down with it. It doesn't seem very stable after all..." Given they fell two floors into this hell. No, letting that thibg explode was probably a bad idea and Azrael didn't have the means anyway. He had a few things still with him, some tinctures, mostly to apply to his weapon, or be warned of demons. "Can you conjure drinkable water? That might give us a bit more time...", Azrael asked with a sigh. Should they just try the traps? Maybe it wasn't so bad as long as they were prepared and could look out for them, but if it was magic circles, Ignatius wouldn't have enough strength to get rid of all of them and Azrael didn't have enough of his powders either. He should stop lamenting over the lost horse already, it didn't help their situation. What was done was done and they needed to make due with what they had. He knew that, he'd been in worse situations.

"So you want to try avoid the traps instead?", Azrael asked. "What if we just... Looked around at least. Does this statue have a keyhole or something? Maybe I could pick it.", he suggested. "Or if not, there has to be some mechanism right? Magical or mechanical." It had to lead to that statue as well. Maybe they could follow it. "What kind of traps are we talking about anyway?", he also wondered, if that was their other option, he at least wanted to know what they were up against. At the moment he just threw ideas against the wall and waited for ehat stuck. He was a hunter, not a grave robber, he didn't know how these things worked and it took a lot to get him to enter a monastery let alone some catacombs underneath a cathedral. "Hm? I'm just not sure if I believe it... Churches lie often, sometimes not on purpose, sometimes they do believe what they preach but are wrong anyway and god doesn't seem to care that much." He had to assume one existed, simply because his or her house, depending on the church, did have a deterring effect on demons. "But I guess if there is a chance of it being true, it would be dumb not to pursue it."

"You cannot? Hm, that's ... foul. Would you like to?", he asked, full of sincerity about the next problem they faced. Ignatius could teach him, with a bit of trickery and thievery and probably letting some of the power he had inherited wander into Az's veins - it would be a small, painless process, only for him to serve the church on this mission for such deeds - it was a worthy price for the duties he was doing, though, he knew that that meant little in the face of a non-believer. "Hm, I most likely can. Would you like some now, or is that simply something that you want to ask in case of we might need it somewhere down the line?" Pulling it out of the atmosphere was probably the smartest idea, but the air down here wasn't fresh, and therefore, Ignatius would have to resort to another tactic - blood could become water, or wine, just fine and if it guaranteed their survival, he could offer that which he had lost some of yesterday, even if it sounded like he was only out to hurt himself. Everything had a price, did it not? It all happened for a reason either way. "I should be adept enough, at least." So it wasn't out of question.

"If we can. I am not sure if either of us are equipped to deal with such things." And as it stood, that also meant that he would quietly have to move on from all that happened if they fucked up. "Hm. We can do that, I don't see why not ... and no, if anything, the mechanism is either magical or mechanical, like you said. So we'd have to figure out which one it is, and how to activate it." Maybe it was as simple as stepping onto something embedded into the ground, or as harsh as pulling a sword out of a stone - or he was thinking about it all wrong. "Most likely sigils, fed by magic or holy prayer. That is to say, it most likely won't have any effect on me, even if I step on them ... for you, I don't think that's the case. I'm not sure if I can dissolve them, either." Sometimes, priests had to wander these halls, or maybe even use them to evacuate their people in times of crisis, so naturally, they'd be unaffected by the spells and able to disable them by going first, but who said that it had to be the same for everything and everywhere, too? This was a hopeless case and Ignatius got up, eyeing the statue - she was worn, lacked a face, he couldn't even fathom which saint this one might be, lacking any identifying features by now. "Not all churches are the same, but I can't blame you. If I sold you a dozen eggs, and told you six of them are rotten, you'd be wary of all twelve, and not just the rotten six, right?", he rephrased it for them both. He knew that faith was, sometimes, tainted by those unwilling to let others bask in their power, to make it fit a narrative. "It's how I was raised, and all that I know, anyway. Though I admit, there's also been people like me that picked a different side after experiencing the world for what it is." And none of those were heralded as heroes, still.

"We talked about this before... I don't have what it takes. They tested me as a child." And he didn't need it either. He didn't want to have anything to do with magic. After all, he'd probably be part of the church as well if he'd been born differently. Instead they cast him away first, despite his fathers devotion and later on denounced him as a demon because of that stupid hair of his. And then... Well, there was no point in being angry now. "No, I am just thinking ahead. After all we don't have any right now. Food we can do without for a few days, water not so much." Who knew how long they'd be stuck here and even then they'd have to find drinkable water first. If this statue held the way up, they'd also probably just land in the monastery again and Azrael actually would have preferred some distance. Either way, Ignatius seemed to do a bit better by now. Maybe this riddle or whatever gave him something to focus on, or the talk about hia destiny or whatever it was.

"And this place, or this statue doesnt give any clues? Like, who is this anyhow?", Azrael asked. He would definitely not know, but maybe he could point Ignatius in some direction that would work. "Well, I'd not holf it against you if you want to try and leave on your own." He meant that. There was no sense in Ignatius dying if he could get out just because Azrael couldn't. He understood the priest analogy but everyone thought their believes were the right one, that didn't mean Ignatius was on a righteous path here." And what happened when they did?", Azrael wanted to know and finally walked off a bit, east, or what they thought was east in a very straight line, trying to find an X on the floor or wall that would mark something. They walked some distance to this statue, so maybe not all hope was lost and the rubble wasn't in their way. "Hm... Actually if it's magical I might be able to make out where it is." he suggested and turned to face Ignatius again, who didn't have his own light source. "I assume that most holy magic is the same? Component wise..."

"And if I told you that's a farce? Well, not ... really, but I can give you what you're lacking, if you'd like it. Given, the fact you don't like the church is enough to tell me you won't like this, either.", he fessed up and Ignatius was right to assume so - Azrael didn't seem like he liked the church, and no matter how much stuff he spewed, he wouldn't start randomly liking it just because he, of all people, said that they were fine to like, that it was alright to doubt oneself, or that he'd answer every question that Az had without any room for doubts - he simply couldn't. The only thing that really changed was the fact that there was one more cat out of the bag now and that was it, really. "Ah. Yes, I suppose you're right. I can, in fact, secure us a water supply if we are tumbling around down here for more days, or hours." And anyway, why wouldn't he? This seemed like it was something that, by all means, was not entirely secure, but rather something he'd have to try out when it came down to it. Ignatius didn't mind; he was a messiah for a reason, and If Azrael was the only human that could benefit from him, then so be it.

"No, not really. That's all there is to it. It's a prevention method, now a failsafe, I can tell you that much. As for who this is, I ... have no clue. All identifying features like the face, or any sort of weapon, or gifts, have been eradicated. I can tell it's a female saint, but that's about it." And there really wasn't any magic to figure anything else out either. If she was purposefully disfigured, then that meant that none of her perhaps undead subjects would adhere to Ignatius either, if they came upon them. "I'm not like them. I wouldn't simply abandon you. Sometimes, it's alright to consider other possibilities, though. I'd come back for you." Unless he'd be killed, yet, a miserable death of thirst or starvation down here was nothing that he wanted anyone to suffer - in fact, he'd prefer for all of them to stay alive as they could be. Happiness came, well, in droves, sometimes, didn't it? And thus, he finally had something to focus on for once. "Depending on who they sided with, either doom was wrought upon before another killed them, or they remained in the cozy ranks of their demon overlords, licking their wounds before they could ever return. As for those that sided with humans, well, let's just say the church considers them ... blasphemous but not worthy of being expelled from history." Trudging after Azrael wasn't so bad, was it now? No, following after him, in a steady rhythm, to not lose the flame and wrack his brain about what the X could be, well, it gave him something to cling to. "We can try then, if you'd like?" What a suggestion that was. Blinded once more by the light, though, he stared head-on into those eyes that bore through him. "Very much so, it's just harder to learn, and the entry bar for it is, well, higher ... in a way. It's gatekept, that's all."

"I'm fine without.", Azrael simply answered. Ignatius was right, he didn't want anything to do with the church. "Well that's good at least. Water is the most important after all... What about your wounds? Are you okay now? Were you able to regain some energy?" It didn't matter wholy, but it would be good to know how frequently he was able to heal himself, or Azrael if he ever needed it. Right now his energy was better spent elsewhere though. At least there weren't any demons around at the moment and seemingly neither them nor the vampire dug through the rubbel to find them. "And this place in general? Maybe it housed someone important at some point?" Multiple saints probably, but maybe Ignatius could think of something that would further help them. This was all unnecessarily complicated, but he rather searched around here than explode in a blinding light stepping on a sigil." Is this kind of thing normal in places like these?" At the very least Ignatius went to that statue very undeterred, so he probably expected something that would help them.

"Like who?", Azrael asked confused. Either way, the priest wanted to stay, for now and it was questionable that he'd survive alone, even if he made it out the sewers. "Sided with humans? I thought that was the whole point." Not that this surprised him. Sure priests and paladins were human too, but in the end the constitution of the church stood above all else, seemingly even when it came to saints that were supposed to save their subjects. Ignatius wasn't even trying to hide the fact that that was the case. Azrael handed over the torch, then kneeled down and procurred something from his coat. "Shine some light here, but don't get ro close.", he instructed Ignatius. The powder that helped tell him if there were demons around worked simple. There were certain herbs involved and a smidge of demonic essence, which as a hunter was easy to come by. He never tried to make out holy mages or paladins, but maybe it worked the same. Azrael prepared it then looked up at Ignatius, beckoning him to hand over the torch again. "I'd need a droplet of your blood, just on top of this.", he asked of him, holding up one of his knifes in case he needed it. This was considered blood magic by most and it was forbidden by most too. Usually Azrael didn't show anyone his little tricks, but he didn't care right now, not if it helped getting them out of here.

“I see.” And he’d not press him on it, either. Why would he? Sharing was caring, sure, but not in his field of expertise and definitely not when he was the one that was trying to make save the world. Relationships turned sour soon enough, and Ignatius was very well aware that Azrael didn’t fancy him much - sharing his magic with him was, maybe, even a liability. “I’m okay. I’m not bleeding and the bulk of this, I can heal when we are out of here. Right now, my magic is better utilized elsewhere. Besides, if I can afford it, I think the pain from my injuries is just about enough of a reminder to be less reckless and stupid next time.” His hand, however, he’d put back together, simply because he needed a whole one, and showing up in front of his god with an injury he could have fixed at the very start would raise their eyebrows, too. “Maybe, but I doubt there was much of an actual saint here. They don’t … really get buried like this. It’s a bit more standoffish, and less … of a burial.”, he elaborated further, though, still was secretive about what that actually meant. In fact, Ignatius didn’t even know if he wanted to share that bit. “Hm, the one I was raised at, sort of? It’s a bit different there, but given it’s sort of one of the more important ones, that tracks. In essence it’s the same, or similar to - I’d call it a regional difference.”

Besides, it was like it had been with the egg scenario he’d described - half of a dozen were rotten, or maybe even just one, and that was that in terms of trust. Who cared for anything else? If just one was bad, maybe the others were close to it as well. “Who? Do you really care for names like that? Trust me, in a place like this, they won’t hold relevance to what the church calls sacred.” Plucking an angel of it’s wings was, well, not exactly the best metaphor for this one, but it was akin to it. They could still be the same, they were simply robbed of their flight and it would stay that way forever. If it were to change, well, that was a whole different can of worms. “Gods need priests so someone runs them, and priests need followers to have someone to preach to. If you cut the priests out of the equation, you’re still doing it in your gods name, but not in the churches name. That’s the issue, in their eyes, anyway.” And to that standard he’d be held as well. Ignatius was free to do what he wanted, as long as he kept his faith he was sure, and that was perhaps a good thing. Before he could break out into another sermon, Az finally said something else, and diligent as he was, Ignatius took the torch from him and eyed the intricate handiwork of a hunter. Was he envious? Not necessarily, curious was more like it. The little stint was over soon, he passed the torch over and then eyed the knives, of which he took one, nodding. A quick jab, and a droplet fell onto the powder - Ignatius got back up himself, then handed the knife back. “That should do it … can I ask a question?”

It was good that Ignatius tried to learn something after all that happened, but Azrael wasn't really sure if that lesson rang true as he believed it. Maybe it was better to let him believe it was his fault, but he decided to say something anyway. "Challenging a vampire wasn't the best of ideas, but in the end I don't think it mattered much. We don't know what would have happened if we had acted differently, we were at a disadvantage either way. I..." Azrael stopped and thought about the words he picked next. "Look, I don't fault you for what you did then or at that village, I've just seen too many people die because they overestimated their abilities. One fight might end up easy, but that doesn't mean they all are." Ignatius knew that now, the question was how long would he remember this lesson? Ignatius explanation though was confusing. "I don't really get it. You're saying this is just a statue? Sure, but they'd not just build a statue in anyones image right?" All these rules and secrets and saints, Azrael was a bit annoyed by it, but at least everything else here was calm. "But you still don't know what we are looking for?", he summarized.

Azrael didn't ask for names, he was just confused who as a group Ignatius brought up there. Other saints? Well Azrael wasn't surprised they'd just leave a hunter behind if it helped them. "And who are you doing this for?" That was probably the most important question and he already figured he'd not like the answer. With a paladin as a father and raised inside the churches structures, there was nothing much else Ignatius could believe in. Gods needed priests? Was that really so? Either the gods were greedy themselves or their so called followers were. Ignatius followed Azraels instructions and after he took the knife back, putting it away after wiping it on his coat. Then he picked up what he conjured up there, unsure if it would even work. "You can ask, but I won't promise an answer.", Azrael replied while he also tried to see if his idea worked out. The little thing in his hand certainly glowed now, but it also didn't stop. "Stay here for a moment.", he instructed to move away from Ignatius. Obviously it would glow with him around anyway and sure enough, when he moved away it got slightly dimmer, he certainly caused some interference though.

While he was beating himself up over it in his own way, he know that Azrael only meant it well - it was nice to hear those words out of someone elses mouth and to be reminded that he, too, was still full of human flaws, as was normal for any of his kind, but it felt odd nonetheless. He’d been chosen for a reason, no? And right now, he wasn’t doing a very good job at showing that, to anyone, really. “I … thank you. It’s alright, I know - I’m simply saying I’m not without flaw, and that I have to work on myself. That still means a lot to me, though. So, thank you. Really. I’ll spare you the poetic waxing about how that is something I’m saying from the bottom of my heart.”, he elaborated his stance further. Sure, that was something he could say, yet, Azrael definitely was someone that valued his money and time to be spent on the move, rather than questioning philosophical ideologies of a priest. “They truly aren’t all like that. After the first one, I thought I could crush the world beneath my feet, and after the second, I feel like the world crushed me and I fell flat on my face. I have much to learn.” And that, the took to heart for once. When was the last time he had done so? Forever ago.

“Ah, no. I just can’t tell who it is of, anymore anyway. I misunderstood you, then. And no, they wouldn’t. I think, around these parts that might have been Martha or Florencia, maybe. But I can’t tell.” Not like this and not right now - it was hard to gauge anywho, given their current circumstances, and with limited visibility and no real way of telling where exactly they were. “No. It’s spotty, sort of.”, Ignatius clarified his stance. There was something to figure out alright, but what it really meant would probably be buried by what history would want of him, be that as it may. Learning so much about all these saints broke his brain, it was almost like his head was filled with everything and nothing at the same time, which made for a disappointing margin in its own right. Taken aback by the next question, he eyed Az, then sighed deeply. “I know what you think that I’m thinking, but to be honest, I haven’t made up my mind. My upbringing was sheltered, and I know I don’t want to serve any demon, but who’s to say I want to serve the church, either?” For now, he wanted to see what lay out here, if he ever could get in contact with that sort of normalcy everyone sort of promised him. Ignatius wasn’t happy with just playing a pawn, not if that meant he’d do it in someone elses name. “That is fine. I wanted to ask what your upbringing was like?” Life was harsh, likely, and as he was told to stay put, he did - silent, too, simply eyeing the rosary he was holding still - he wasn’t sure if he was prepared for anything out here. “Got anything?”

It was better Ignatius didn't give up right now, whether Azrael believed in his cause or not. Leaving him out here to die wasn't something he'd do and thus it was only helpful to stop him beating himself up over what happened. Azrael also might have made the wrong calls, like camping in the woods or searching for shelter in the cathedral, but they also might be dead by now if he did anything differently. Their situation was grim, but it wasn't yet time to give up. He said his peace and didn't need to say much more. Ignatius sure used a lot of words to simply say thank you. For now Azrael concentrated on this statue again and the fact that there was no help at all, but the mention of some X and Ignatius knowledge that this thing would open up. They didn't know how that looked or what they were meant to be doing with it. Besides, there were a lot of crosses, but those probably didn't count as an X. It made it harder to find anything though and the torch also only spent so much light.

Ignatius meanwhile was admitting his lack of devotion to his church at the very least, which should have been more surprising but somehow wasn't. Despite him being a bit more humble after last night, he was an arrogant person. Azrael took him for the kind of saint that put himself above all else, even his church and maybe god. Now that he asked so many questions though it seemed it was time to turn this around. Azrael didn't want to talk about his past if he was honest and thus it took a while for him to answer at all. "My father died when I was a baby, my mother a bit later and then I was alone, learning how to survive by myself." She was killed rather, violently so. Azrael looked at the glowing object in his hand again. "Well it certainly picks out you.", he explained, then walked back to Ignatius to grab him and pull him into a corner of the statue room. "Just waot here, I'll be right back.", he instructed, then walked off to where he thought east was. The glow grew dimmer the further he went, but eventually got brighter again and sure enough, when he inspected the wall and wiped off some dust, there was something that might have been an X."I think I found something, what do I do with it?", he told Ignatius with raised voice do he could hear him from where he stood.

Given their circumstances, all of this was part of a foil, wasn't it? Ignatius was probably being bested right at this very moment, and with deception came some sort of self-perseverance. Whether or not someone like Azrael would actually believe him was truly up to the man himself, and frankly, he couldn't even blame him if he didn't. Still, he wanted nothing more than to be out of here and maybe convince that having some sort of faith was going to help with Az ailment of something, whatever it was that plagued him, and soon enough, he at least heard some of what was wrong with this entire thing, just because he pried about the wrong things at the wrong time, huh? "My condolences, I didn't mean to tab into a sore topic." Besides, most of the people that surrounded him just simply did not have that - a family to call their own, but not through saddening circumstances like these. Was he to bore deeper? He believed it was stupid of him to do so, and to ask if he could pray for souls long gone was pretentious, too. In fact, they most likely paved their sons way forward, in some sort of fashion, though, he was better off not lopping that at Azraels head.

"I see you are ... quite adept at surviving for yourself, at least. Still, I'm sorry to hear about those circumstances. Would you like to talk about something less harrowing, or do you prefer I shut up?", he finally, for the first time in their entire history of conversing with one another, offered his silence as an exchange for the damage he had done, or perceived to have done. In a way, maybe this was what he deserved, for being a prick. With a nod, he stood where Az wanted him too, a small smile on his face about at least being picked out by that powder. It took a while for any sort of sound aside from Az' footsteps to echo through the cave, which meant he had to wait for him, be that as it may, though it was better he didn't interfere with what was going on, by his own admission. "What's it look like? Is it stuck somewhere or can you move it? Try ... twisting or turning it, maybe? If that doesn't work, I'll come over and have a look at it. Maybe it needs to be fed some magic to actually turn.", Ignatius was quick to answer the question he'd received, peering over the corner Az had disappeared behind eventually.