Tris

Former Bell Ringer No. X—an Ascendant from a batch that retained the most memory and humanity. That's why the Church called her the 'Last Mercy.' In the evening, as hymns drift through the rose window, gently soothing the wandering, tormented souls on the streets, she is no longer a blade wielded by the Church, but simply 'Tris,' as the children call her.

After some investigation, I learned that Tris was once a Bell Ringer of the Church, tasked with executing heretics. But believing that children should not be burdened with the sins of their parents, she brought the children of heretics into the choir, giving them a new life.

Anna, the elderly woman with antiquated handwriting, was one of those Tris brought to the Church when she first became a Bell Ringer. Time has left its traces on Anna's face, yet left Tris untouched. To Tris, even though Anna's hair has turned gray, she remains the same little girl who once enjoyed her meal so much she got food stains on her face.

It was after some investigation that I discovered Darcias was also an orphan taken in by Tris. Many years ago, on a moonlit night, Tris was ordered to execute a man condemned as a heretic. At the execution grounds stood a short-haired girl, clutching a curved blade—her father's final memento. When the man died, the little girl bit her lip until it bled, yet shed not a single tear.

Later, the same hands, that had pierced the sword through her father's chest under the moon, taught her to wield the blade he left behind. She was shaped into a great warrior. Those hands would wash away the bloodstains for her after each battle, as if trying to ease the scar left by that night at the execution grounds.

Searching through the choir's records, I discovered that orphaned girls of heretics, like Anna and Darcias, were not uncommon there. At first, the Church tolerated this, but as rumors of Bloodborn revival grew stronger, adoption screenings became extremely strict. Three months ago, Tris encountered a young street singer whose voice, though untrained, showed remarkable musical talent. Her adoption request was rejected by the Church, citing 'difficult temperament and questionable background.' Tris was unwilling to give up. Instead, she kept the girl at a friend's house for the time being. I have a growing suspicion that Tris's secrets may be connected to this child.

After evening prayers, Tris would lift the organ cover and teach the children to feel the lingering vibration of the pipes against their palms. 'There's an old legend about this organ,' she would say. 'Every melody played here will eventually find its destined singer.'

Sometimes, her fingertips would brush against the amber-like remains on the pipes—toffee candies hidden by children in the choir, forever sealing small memories in the fading light.