I know very well what the Master seeks and why he does. I had lived and served in the Church of the Divine Mother for nine years now, as I am entering the sixteenth year of my life. I have known Master Noir since then. He is wise, firm, charismatic, and fair, a natural leader. He would have made a fine ruler, but instead he chooses to destroy all. And the reason why is more than obvious to me. At night, when sleep would not come, I could hear him in his room. His dreams were often filled with nightmares, which resulted in him crying out, "Maman!" Mother. The source of his dreams became clear as they went on.
The man I revered and admired was in fact half a man. Half demon. Half human. Because of the circumstances of his birth and their revelation to his fellow villagers, his mother was killed when he was just a child. I was torn by fear and sympathy. I wished to tell him that he could confide in me, but I admit that I was afraid of what he might do if he knew that I knew. The teachings of Poitreene say that demons are cold, calculating, and cruel... my Master was none of these. So I kept quiet on the matter. The most I could do was enter his chambers and ask if he needed anything. It would usually result in a quick, sharp dismissal and a command to go back to bed.
He stopped sleeping after a while. I was worried that his health would deteriorate, yet he seemed just fine. Seemed. On the nights that I did not sleep then, I would creep into the choir loft above the altar. And there, on several occasions, I would listen as Master Noir consorted with those from the Netherworld. Demons and Demon Lords. And he spoke of his Dark Utopia, which would cast down Poitreene and take the power of Calamity and make it his own. He planned to kill everyone. To avenge his maman. I waited for almost four hours after the meeting ended to make sure they were truly gone. Now I did not sleep at all. My days were spent tending to my duties in the church, nerves threatening to send me flailing every which way every time I caught sight of Prêtre Noir. I spent my nights praying and praying, seeking answers to the many questions that now flooded my mind. Was I wrong about Master Noir? Was he as cold, calculating, and cruel as was spoke of demons?
No... no, he could not have been. If they had just left him and his mother be, this never would have had to happen...
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I did not know the details of what happened back then, but my mind began playing tricks on me. I've a wild imagination, you know. And it sent images of what might have happened through my brain at a rapid pace, especially at night. ...Eventually, it got to the point where I would will myself into the situation and kill the villagers, saving Master Noir and his mother from that fate.
Time went on and I continued to feign ignorance about the entire ordeal. But the meetings with his demon consorts became more and more frequent. Soon, another name entered the fray: La Pucelle. The demon-hunting squad of the Church of the Holy Maiden were interfering with Master Noir's plans. His consorts urged him to deal with them before they unraveled everything, but Master Noir brushed their concerns aside. He said it was unnecessary, that he would deal with them when the time came. In hindsight, it might have been a wise decision of his to eliminate them when he had the chance. Unfortunately, La Pucelle proved more a threat than anticipated, despite Noir taking the Dark Prince of legend.
But that has all led up to here and now. Staff in hand, I had managed to stow away aboard the pirate ship Escargot, in league with La Pucelle, and attempt to find Master Noir here in this ancient castle in the sky. The Tenjin knew their stuff even then, and Master Noir knows all there is to know about them. I have not been able to find him, though. This castle is a labyrinth, and there are monstrous creatures everywhere. I have found respite in a secluded corridor where I may write this, and even now, that respite is disturbed by the sound of voices down the corridor, the sound of boots striking the marble. They are coming. It is time to prove my worth to my Master. The blood of the faithful - of the servants of the Goddess Poitreene and my own - shall paint the way to your future!
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Today is a dark day. I live still. So does La Pucelle... well... most of them, anyway. The lovely blonde woman lies lifeless in one of the cabins, with the redheaded boy weeping at her side. The impossible has come to pass... Master Noir is dead. Dead, just as the blonde woman. But there is no body. I can barely speak to anyone. The Princess, Eclair, is with them. She is the only one who will speak to me. She wishes to know why I was fighting for Master Noir, but I cannot speak. My throat is choked and sore. I cannot say anything.
Needless to say, I was defeated soundly. My daydreaming led me to believe that I could manage a staff with ease. Reality, as it has shown today, is cruel. My staff broke the instant I attempted to crack it over the redheaded girl's head. I know her, Prier. Her brother, the one weeping for the woman, is Culotte. I've seen them in Pot Au Feu, but not really that well. I can scarcely believe that she is the one that defeated Master Noir. But I know that she defeated me. She delivered a kick, one which could shatter bones, right into the place I dreaded. That was all it took to put me out for the count. I awoke as a prisoner of the Escargot, and we're going back to Paprika now. My fate... is still uncertain.
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I have explained myself to the Princess, finally, and in turn, she has convinced her mother to grant me reprieve. I am a free man. As free as I can get. But I do not know where to go now. Word has spread throughout the kingdom. Master Noir has died from a sickness. ...I suppose that is true. Master Noir had a sickness in his heart that would not cease until it was wiped out with everyone else in existence or it overtook Master.
Master Noir, I live while you do not. It was not supposed to be this way. It isn't fair... after what you endured, you should never have had to suffer death. Though, perhaps, death was a blessing. May you sleep well, Master, away from the nightmares that this world forced on you. Leave them behind... for those that have earned them. I do not know what I will do with my life. I cannot stand to look at either Church now. The Gods do not have my worship any longer.
...I'm alone... but I hope that I find you again one day, Master Noir, wherever you are. I failed you, but I hope you are able to forgive me. ...For right now, I'm leaving Paprika. I do not have a home here, so I will find a new one. Perhaps I will find where your village once stood. Who knows. I was honored to have you as a Master, and look forward to the day when we meet again. Goodbye.
Sincerely,
Your Faithful Acolyte