The valley of all, beheld by those above the status of humanity; of mortality. Those of great status within the realm of kingdoms could not compare—kings, Emperors, the sky itself; all these things all below that of those above.

With their all-seeing gazes being birthed from the sea of nothingness, the world of mortality came to be with those who created such a palace leaving it behind for one much grander than imaginable by the human mind.

Concepts were soon made by those insignificant beings occupying the former palace of the ones above. Those who began to put faith in those submitted themselves to the being who gaze no more than a passing glance at the ants beneath them.

Even through tried contact, none were able to get their messages to reach that of the grand palace of the greatest being above all. All efforts were in vain. Whether the message be adoration or opposition, no reply was ever met.

Only those with the special constitution may inherit any gifts for those above the sky itself.

…

The small yet thick book closed in the old preacher's hands. Clasping the book between his arms and chest, the old preacher slowly creaked his torso downward to the audience. He jerkingly moved his way outside of the view of the commons.

Those with children were the first to leave; the unaccounted amount of energy needed to be accounted for. Soon after followed those who had jobs to attend to. They moved out in depressed motions as they felt begrudged by the thought of work. Those off from work and those who bordered between elder and commons were the remaining few left.

It didn’t take long for even those to disappear into the shining light of the outside. The sun, which should’ve shone into the beautiful building, was hindered by the deep black curtains covering all windows of the main hall.

From behind a closed door off to the side came a slightly younger gentleman who donned the title of priest at the church. His complexion was hindered by the lack of sun, but otherwise, he seemed to be quite healthy for a man of fair status.

He held a book whose title had been crossed out many years ago. The book had been encased in a leather coating and bore a lock of greater heft than the pages themself. The book itself was otherwise quite plain even compared to most books the church held in their possession.

The priest had already sat down on one of the aisle seats meant for those to pray. His relaxed arrangement was unbecoming of a priest, but nobody cared as the hall was empty of all visitors. The priest, only then, began to look closer at the book he held within his arms.

From out the entrance corridor came a young, curly-haired girl who looked no older than ten. Her tattered clothes showed the level of commons to which she resided. Despite her appearance, she wore an excellent smile on her face.

Her joyful skipping came to a stop when she found herself at the front row seats of the church’s glorious hall. She gleefully sat herself down and began to pray. Despite her energetic entrance, she stayed completely still as she clasped her hands together.

Watching this, the old priest smiled and turned back to the book in his hands. In the grasp of one of the hands that had released its grip over the book, was a key shining in golden light, but darkened by the age of dawn.

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An insert and a turn; the book opened. Inside the binding were pages of nothing. No words took over the pages of the book. Not a single one. Those who knew of the book all knew; That this book was that of a sinner’s novella. Up until recent history, the key for the locked and cursed book had long been missing from those of the clergy.

Found by a member of the commons, it was given to the clergy for studying due to its odd nature and the finder’s lack of intrigue. With the book now opened, the old priests made sure to search nook and cranny to find what may be hidden. Even with the book opened and every page skimmed, nothing showed up on the pages of paper.

With a quick sigh, the old priest decided to close the book and go on his way. The energetic girl from previous had long gone. She seemed to have skipped away as joyfully as she had when she entered, but the priest couldn’t know for sure.

As the priest walked away, the book to his left breast, a sharp impaling feeling struck the man’s heart like a heart attack. This occurred for only a few moments before stopping as if never there in the first place.

The book was soon after, placed back into its shelving in the church library.

…

Each day, the priest would go and sit in the aisles once everyone had long gone to live their lives. Each day, the young girl would return in her joyful mood, seemingly to guardian in sight, and pray for a few minutes before leaving just as gleefully as she entered.

With her leaving the priest would stand and head back for his other duties past his break, and each day he would feel the same sharp pain in his heart. Every day got slightly harder to bear as the pain seemed to grow with time.

Nobody other than the priest knew about the pain in which he felt every day at the same time of day. His fist would punch his heart and it would not react, but a single time of day was enough to strike it with fear.

Along with everyday prayer, the man began to pray to the one of the eclipse for a few minutes every hour he stayed awake, much more than even those of high standing within the clergy.

Eventually, when feeling the need to calm his heart in some way, he turned to the book which he unlocked from its unrelenting grasp. The book, similarly to the last, was empty and the name on the cover was still crossed out by the unknown.

After a quick skim, he closed the book once again, or at least that was the attempt of the old man. The book seemed to have something rather large stuck between the pages that were being pushed to close. Between the pages was nothing but the air of the room around when observed by the priest.

Eventually, the priest gave and opened the book back up completely. Inside the book, the faded words began to appear. These words, despite very obviously being words, were incomprehensible to those of mortal being.

As the priest observed the words closer, the spike in his heart began to rapidly appear and disappear repeatedly, getting fiercer with each strike. The pain would not subside even with looking away.

As the pain continued to grow, the young girl skipped along as she had every day previous. He watched the girl pray as his heart continued to be pierced by the invisible dagger that was relentless in its assault.

His own heart, which was in such great pain, began to yearn for that unknown to the priest’s moral mind. His gaze had long wafted from the book to the young girl who sat in silence and prayed like a solemn statue.

His mind began to falter as the heart possessing his body began to yearn greater. Those feelings infected his own mind with that of innocent words of finished suffering. He took his first step toward the door of the great cleansing room. Then another. One more.

He walked his way, but before he even knew it, he had already appeared right before the praying girl. His own eyes were out of focus and his body moved against his previously strong will. His fingers touch the little girl’s shoulder, causing her to look up at the elder. As the priest’s body lowered, he began to feel a complete loss of focus as the pain consumed him completely.

When his mind finally awoke itself, the pain in his heart was gone, and so was the girl who sat there. No trace of her existed on the seat, but a strange heat sat on his lips, a deep red that covered and stained. A quick taste made it apparent, but the priest did not feel guilt or sin. A sense of relief and satisfaction unfamiliar to the priest left a great smile on his face. For the first time, the priest left the church while on duty, his body, mind, and heart ecstatic as to the joy of human life.