Bloodborne - 180 Master Willem

Surgit explored the observatory. There were two floors and an atrium on top. Surgit climbed the stairs to the first floor. There was a large hole, recently created near the ceiling. Surgit’s monster had flung the hunter that welcomed them to Byrgenwerth through it. He looked at it, fascinated by the strength he possessed.

He feared losing himself to the monster, true. But he couldn’t stop thinking of the power he held. He only needed to activate it, let go of the rules, of the distinction between good and evil. What he’d seen so far in Yharnam proved that the world he was trapped in wasn’t a good one. Everything and everyone tried hard to kill him. There was no talking to mindless beasts, no reasoning with them.

The only truth in Yharnam was power.

He walked around the first floor of the observatory. It was a library, quite small for an institution like Byrgenwerth. But then again, Surgit never would’ve imagined the academy to be this small. Books were stacked on dusty shelves. Spider webs covered most books. Moisture had infested the wooden shelves, consumed paper. Only a scrap remained unharmed, with some words scribbled on them.

Surgit inspected the paper with his insight. It read: “When the red moon hangs low, the line between man and beast is blurred. And when the Great Ones descend, a womb will be blessed with child.”

“The line between man and beast is blurred,” Surgit said aloud. “A womb will be blessed with child…”

Something about these two sentences attracted the hunter’s attention. He’s found an umbilical cord when he found his way into Gerhman’s old house. Perhaps the womb had already been blessed with child and the line between man and beast had already been blurred.

But where’s the red moon?

Surgit turned away from the dust and moisture then headed for a big door on the first floor. No matter how many times he pushed, the door didn’t seem to budge.

“To think with all this power and strength, I should be able to break a door open. How ironic!”

He walked back downstairs. He needed a key to open the door, and it was bound to be hidden somewhere in the building. It was always like this with Yharnam. It throws difficult tasks your way but still offers you a way out. It wasn’t unfair, just stupidly difficult. He searched the ground floor of the observatory.

There were glass containers in which round objects floated in a dirty liquid. ‘Nobody’s been to this place by the look of it,’ he thought as he moved closer to the containers. He didn’t have the chance to explore the place before. He was prisoner in his own body, while a much stronger version of himself obliterated all hostiles in the area.

White spheres floated in the dirty liquid. Surgit knelt near the container, observing the peculiar objects before him.

“What strange objects did Yharnamites study in here?” He tapped the glass, trying to get the spheres to move. The glass was too fragile to take a hit, even if it were but a tap, and stay intact. It broke and a nasty liquid spilled on the wooden floor. Surgit covered his nose then quickly backed away. It smelled like rotten eggs that were marinated in vinegar for a century.

Nasty, nasty smell!

The white sphere rolled on the ground. Some hit Surgit’s feet and stopped. When he looked down, he saw eyeballs, perfectly preserved. They were bigger than most, but they hadn’t shriveled one bit.

“Ritual materials!” Surgit happily exclaimed. It didn’t even occur to him that he was happy because he found a bunch of organs, perfectly preserved in a shady place called an academy.

He looked around him. There were all manners of strange objects, either neatly stacked on a shelf or perfectly preserved in some nasty liquid. He could finally obtain more material to access the Chalice Dungeons. He hated the place but it allowed him to grow stronger. It was stuffy and gave him a claustrophobic feeling, but the gain was better than the pain.

He was busy collecting Bloodshot Eyeballs, Arcane Hazes and Coldblood Flowers when a chest he hadn’t noticed before caught his eyes. He opened the chest to find a shining slime-like creature stored inside. It was placed atop a crimson cushion. An eye, embroidered in golden threads, could be seen below the slime.

Surgit picked the object then inspected it with his insight.

“Empty Phantasm Shell: Empty invertebrate shell that is said to be a familiar of a Great One. The Healing Church has discovered a great variety of invertebrates, or phantasms, as they are called.

Shells with slime still harbour arcane power, and can be rubbed on weapons to imbue them with their strength.”

Surgit rubbed the shell against his sword, nothing happened. He inspected the object again then realized he needed to infuse it with three quicksilver bullets. He took three bullets then placed them atop the slimy creature. The bullets dissolved inside the shell then it started glowing brightly. A silver liquid started dripping from it then splashed on the wooden floor.

There was a faint spark as the drop fell to the ground. It shone an icy white before it disappeared. Surgit rubbed the phantasm shell against his sword. The weapon glowed brightly. A mixture of white and silver auras coated the sword. A sound, akin to putting one’s ear against a seashell, emanated from the aura that enveloped Surgit’s weapon.

“I need to test this on something,” he said as he made for the door. He stopped in his tracks when he remembered his monstrous self, clearing the area.

“The ladder!” he thought then dashed upstairs. Near the library he had inspected, there was a ladder leading to the atrium. Surgit climbed the stairs, four at a time, then reached the ladder. He soon found himself in another study. There were no books this time, just Ritual Material. Serpentine stairs, at the right corner of the study, led to the atrium.

Surgit pricked his ears, he’d heard some footsteps. He needed to confirm his suspicion. When he heard a faint clicking noise, Surgit dashed through the serpentine stairs. A creature with a gigantic fly head, was roaming about the atrium, oblivious to what had happened in the building below. Surgit swung his sword and cut the beast’s back. The silver and white aura penetrated the beast’s body. From the open wound, silver aura started spreading through the beast’s body, like rust consuming a forgotten sword.

The beast shrieked and flailed its arms around. The strange bones that protruded from its back moved about as well. One of them grazed Surgit’s arm. The hunter flinched then looked at his shoulder. ‘That’s a sharp bone!’ He thought as he looked at the bleeding cut. ‘Lucky they can’t control them.’

Surgit slashed twice at the beast then watched erosion consume it. With a final thrust, Surgit finished the monster then walked away. The Phantasm Shell was pretty useful, but Surgit thought he could finish the monster in four attacks, even without the coating.

“It still helps limit their movement. Reduces the damage I can take.” He pocketed the item, shrugged then walked toward the ladder. A chest caught his eyes again. He remembered he still needed to find a key to open that large door downstairs. Lucky for him, it was inside the wooden box. He inspected the object with his insight. It had become second nature to him, to inspect every object in Yharnam with his third eye.

Lunarium Key: Key to the lunarium facing the lake on the second floor of Byrgenwerth College.

In his final years, Master Willem was fond of the lookout, and the rocking chair that he kept there for meditation. In the end, it is said, he left his secret with the lake.

The rocking chair! Surgit remembered seeing it when he touched the skull at the Great Cathedral. The man who sat there was Willem, he remembered that young man addressing him as such. Surgit climbed down the ladder then headed for the door. He wondered if he’d find the long lost master behind the door. Perhaps he’d be able to give him some answers.

He shook his head, dismissing this overly positive thought. If he needed answers in this city, he knew he’d have to find them himself. He put the key in the socket then turned it. A click, and the door was unlocked. Surgit hesitated to turn the knob.

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What if Willem was really there?

The man who rallied so many devoted scholars and hunters must have been very powerful.

What if he’d also transformed into some hideous beast?

Surgit dreaded the idea of fighting some man with celestial powers. He’d had a bad time against that snake.

“Perhaps I’d go to the dungeons, get stronger,” he said as he held the door knob, unwilling to turn it.

“Ah what the hell! What’s the worst that could happen? Die?”

He finally turned the knob and pushed the door open.

A bright, full moon welcomed him to the open terrace. The lake below hugged the horizon, there was no end to it. In front of him, Surgit saw an old man on a rocking chair. He wore extravagant clothes and held a scepter in his right hand. The old man looked at the Lake, his back to the hunter.

Surgit approached the old man then stood before him, obstructing his view. The old man pointed his scepter forward then opened his mouth. The only sound that left was a low growl. The man’s skin was saggy and pale, too pale. His eyes were covered, giving him an even weirder look. He certainly looked like the Willem Surgit saw during his multiple visions.