84 - High Grafter Fidelia [Cherno]

A/N: You're not having a stroke, I accidentally numbered this one 85 at first.
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Casus and Firminus soon returned with a woman in tow - at least Krahe wagered it was a woman by the voice and figure, considering the wholly obscuring hooded robes and mask. She was also fairly short. From her reading on the church, this had to be High Grafter Fidelia, one of the three religious authorities presiding over Audunpoint’s Central Temple. Though they possessed great administrative discretion, they were not expected to perform administrative duties in most cases.

“This is the candidate?” came a distorted, yet distinguishably female voice from the figure. “And you are certain of your choice, Aristedes? You know the weight of sponsoring another… And the consequences, should she turn out unworthy.”

“I am certain, High Grafter.”

The High Grafter turned as if to focus on Krahe, and then gestured to her: “Very well, rise up and come with me. There are yet steps you must take ere your sundered flesh can be mended.”

She wasn’t sure if it was an honest statement or if some strange test hid within it, so she assumed it was the latter and forced herself to her feet unassisted before taking the crutches she had formed just after they had arrived at the temple.

The High Grafter brought the three of them into another part of the temple complex, a secluded sanctum wherein strange machinery towered up to the ceiling behind a modest altar. Atop that altar was a metal-encrusted skull. Statues and murals of presumably long-dead saints filled the final hallway which adjoined the secluded sanctum; some were merely extremely well-sculpted humans, while others were covered in seams and bore an alien, unearthly beauty. Fidelia took up a position behind the altar, resting a mechanical hand upon the skull as she began to speak on the Grafting Church's tenets.

Being inducted as an official member of the Grafting Church was rather quick, though it was fairly obvious that the ritual had been expedited for the purposes of her situation. The High Grafter simply listed off the fundamental tenets of the church, then the High Blasphemies, and had Krahe acknowledge them and swear that she would seek to act in accordance with those tenets. She found it surprising that the faith had rather limited focus on Zavesh as a deific figure of worship; that statue out in the square was the only depiction of Zavesh that Krahe remembered seeing. Instead, from what she had read, it placed utmost importance on adherents turning their bodies into fitting vessels for the “divinity inherent to all mankind”. In this manner it was rather similar to some minor gnostic mystery cults back in Megacity Gamma, though significantly less escapist and less eager to chop off perfectly good limbs with the assumption that metal was automatically better than flesh. All in all, Krahe found the Grafting Church’s faith to be completely unobjectionable to her personally, even if the whole graft-apostle and graft-saint system came across as strange at best. She nonetheless couldn’t help but wonder what sort of dark secrets hid beneath the surface, and how much of the faith’s true nature was hidden from those outside the inner circles.

The High Grafter produced a fragrant oil from seemingly nowhere, smearing a sigil of some sort on Krahe’s forehead, and with that, her anointment as a member of the Grafting Church was done.

“Before we move on, I would ask you this: Have you undergone grafting procedures in the past? Though you show no outward signs, Brother Firminus has brought it to my attention that you bear many scars emblematic of an unskilled grafter carrying out heavy work… And yet, you seem to lack any external grafts to show for it.”

She glanced at Casus. It wasn’t an accusatory glance; she had wholly expected Firminus to notice when she subjected herself to his expert eye. No truly skilled surgeon would mistake surgery scars. He didn’t nod, but by the look in his eyes and the fact both he and Firminus had brought back this particular High Grafter, she decided she could divulge at least basic information.

Sighing, she set her face into a facial paralysis mask so that not an iota of emotion would show, giving Fidelia a hard, yet non-hostile look.

“I underwent extensive grafting in my homeland, though it was not of the type practiced on Ashametan. I cannot divulge why, how, or when I divested myself of those grafts, and I am largely unfamiliar with your methods. As Firminus likely deduced himself and made you aware,” she said, glancing at the grafter before returning to Fidelia, “I have undergone spinal replacement in the past. Undergoing it again, even if the specifics are different, will be no issue to me. Regarding my lack of apparent grafts, it is not a solely external matter - I can assure you that I possess no grafts of any kind other than this bodysuit. It seems the Seven Spokes System considers my left arm a graft, but at no point since my return to flesh have I had it replaced or modified by grafting.”

“How interesting. Assuming you speak true, you can be said to be more qualified than many prospective apostles, if not for your experience with foreign grafting techniques, then for your potential to contribute to our knowledge as a patient. Rarely do we see patients with such a disparity of graft density versus graft experience,” Fidelia said. Her response sounded neither disappointed nor gladdened, but downright dripping with curiosity. “Let us go, then.”

Fidelia turned and walked out of the room, not looking back to check if Krahe was following after her. Krahe wasn’t entirely sure if Fidelia’s use of “we” referred to the church at large, or herself; she’d encountered a handful of people in the past with Collective Consciousness Syndrome, a strange condition that rendered one individual into a self-contained hivemind with no apparent deleterious effects.

As they walked, the sound of her stone crutches echoing against the vaulted ceiling, a question gnawed away at Krahe.

“Does every new graft-apostle’s officiation require the involvement of a High Grafter?” Krahe questioned.

“No,” Fidelia answered openly. “It is, however, required to bypass normal officiation procedures, and to conceal the fact a new apostle has been officiated. You will be an Unlettered Apostle, your identity unrecorded in official documents.”

Fidelia fell silent for a short time - no more than five seconds - as if considering whether to keep talking.