Frater Imperator | Alone, all alone

Well, he really thought he knew what it was to be lonely.

And he never was more mistaken.

After the accident and long recovering Copia didn’t try to delude himself into thinking that no one visited him simply because they lacked the time. He knew that, in all likelihood, he had simply been cast out of the Ministry — discarded like a spent, useless commodity; after all, wasn’t that exactly what his parents had done with Primo, Secondo, and Terzo? Therefore, he didn't wait for anything humiliating — such as pitying words of condolence or 'tactful' suggestions that he step aside, at least temporarily, and hand over the reins of power to Perpetua, — he left first, leaving a note wishing good luck to his brother to deal with everything alone, and disappeared from the eyes of anyone he knew.

Copia found a cute little forest house that belonged to no one, and decided he'd stay there. It was comfortable enough for a lonely middle-aged man he was: no noisy ghouls around, no siblings of sin asking stupid questions, no rituals with migraine, no uncomfortable tiny sofas...

...no life he was used to. And finally Copia realized that he missed every single thing that annoyed him in former times. He knew that a rat can die from being lonely, without their relatives, but just now he actually felt like that very rat: a creature starving without anyone to be beside him. He was no longer Frater Imperator, or Papa, or at least Cardinal — he wasn't sure even that all his memories weren't just a feverish dream. What it is, to be just a man, just Copia — he didn't remember, and it was hard to learn it again.

And then he heard it: faint, fading breathing from somewhere outside the house. Wounded animal? Hurt human? Copia didn't know, but that didn't stop him from rushing to the door.

Outside, it was dark and quiet; the late autumn twilight had already enveloped the surrounding forest, and the air was filled with the soft rustle of fallen leaves stirred by an occasional breeze and the earthy scent of decay. At first, Copia didn't even realize where that fading sound of breathing was coming from, until he looked more closely and spotted claw marks leading across the damp ground past his house. Following those marks, he reached some small bushes growing nearby — and that was when he saw them.

There was a ghoul — weak and emaciated, but definitely a ghoul. They were curled up into a ball, covering their nose with their tail like a wounded, freezing animal, and their breathing was so faint that at first it seemed to Copia as though they weren't breathing at all. Without wasting words or time, he scooped the ghoul up in his arms, hauled them into the house, and dragged the fold-out sofa closer to the fireplace to let them warm up.

Once he was certain the ghoul’s breathing was gradually steadying, Copia allowed himself to study them more closely. There was something familiar about their features; he felt he had seen this ghoul long ago, back when he was still a Cardinal. Perhaps they had been summoned by Terzo? Or even Secondo? The tattered remnants of black robes clinging to the ghoul’s body made it impossible to pinpoint exactly which era they had arrived in at the Ministry. Be that as it may, it seems they vanished from the lives of the Satanic Clergy quite some time ago — perhaps shortly after the murder of their tamer and summoner.

"You’ve been through so much, tesoro..." Copia exhaled quietly, covering the ghoul with a blanket. "Got lost, huh? Well, I guess I got lost too... only nobody found me. But I found you. You're not alone anymore, oro mio. Mi prenderò cura di te nel miglior modo possibile. I'll take care of you as best I can."