I walked through the streets as the last of the light faded below the horizon, casting the world into darkness. Lamplighters came out to do their jobs, bringing at least a little illumination to the streets. Very few people were out at this time of night, allowing me to walk and contemplate everything in peace. The night air carried a slight chill to it, but the lingering warmth from the sun kept it at a comfortable temperature.
Lost in my own thoughts, I wandered back through the market district, not that it would have mattered if I was more focused on finding lodgings for tonight. My familiarity with this city was nonexistent as I had avoided it in the past due to its religious affiliation. Wandering was the only recourse I had for finding a place to stay.
Eventually I passed by a building that had a clamorous amount of noise coming from inside. The sounds snapped me out of my thoughts, and I looked up at the sign above the door to see it was an inn. I probably would have walked right by it if it wasn’t for all the people inside having a good time carousing with their friends after a long day of work.
Figuring this would probably be as good as anything else for now, I made my way inside. The noise only amplified once the door was open, and I was hit with a wave of smells. Cooked food, strong alcohol, and a light smokiness to the air were the most prominent amongst them.
I found someone working at the front desk and asked for a room. They gave me a reasonable price and I paid it happily, receiving a room key and some basic directions on how to find it. It was just a short trip down a few hallways before I found my room.
The basic accommodations were provided, a bed, nightstand, and oil lamp for lighting, but otherwise rather compact and utilitarian. I shrugged off my travel pack, feeling the liberation of my shoulders and the relief that the sensation had brought. Feeling quite tired, I undressed and got into bed.
Lilith came out again as soon as I was settled in. This time the bed was a lot smaller than before, and no matter what I did I couldn’t seem to convince her not to lay on top of me like an uncomfortably heavy fur blanket. I could do nothing but groan and shift around a little until I was in a relatively comfortable position. She rested her head squarely on my chest, and I gave her ears some scratches while staring up at the ceiling.
My mind once more wandered, returning to my situation as champion to a forgotten and feared God. There was only one thing that I wanted to know. Why did you choose me? The question was directed towards my pocket god.
I did not have very many options at the time.
My brow dropped incredulously. You’re a god, how do you not have options?
As I said before, I have had much taken from me. The battle between myself and the other deities was not a gentle one. I was broken and then forced into the equivalent of a box that was hidden away from the world. As ironic as it may sound, my prison was also the only thing keeping me alive. Without it, I would have, for lack of a better term, bled out.
I could feel some manner of anger tinged with misery emanating from them. Before I could even ask another question, they started talking again. The prison they put me in was suffocating, but it stopped any of my draining power from escaping, and anything else from getting in. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t hear, I could barely even feel the dull pain of my broken form. Over a thousand years of sensory deprivation on a scale you can’t even imagine. To go from being able to experience everything, to nothing. All that I could do was plot, imagine a million different scenarios that could be enacted upon my return... if I returned.
They continued. When you freed me, I was not prepared for the flood of sensations that came crashing down on me. The screaming of pained souls, the feeling of life slipping away from a myriad of people, the maddened minds of those who had already turned feral. So much chaos, and I could only sit there, stunned by all the damage that had been done. By the time I was able to come to my senses, reconcile all those sensations, you and your village were already fading away. I was still hurt, ‘bleeding’ so to speak, and I needed a new vessel to house me in. You had already made a connection with me, so I came to you with that offer. I won’t lie, I was relieved that you accepted, and after using what little power I had left to chase away the death that lingered over you, I spent those years until you grew up recovering and dealing with the hurt souls that had managed to cross the threshold. Now, at least, I won’t fade away, but I am still withered.
That was a lot of information to chew on, and a pitiable story besides. So, you needed me to survive? Was I just a last resort?
To be honest, it wasn’t the most optimal situation. However, I am not unhappy with the choice. Your heart and mind are in the right place, even though you still hold reservations about me.
I didn’t know how I felt about that. On one hand, it did make sense. Any port in a storm as the saying goes. But on the other hand, it felt a little bit underwhelming to think that the only reason I was picked was circumstances.
The only thing I could do was shake my head to clear it of those intrusive negative thoughts. The how and why didn’t matter so much anymore, what did matter was that I had been picked, for all the good and bad that would bring. I needed to focus on the now, on the task ahead of me. There were people I needed to convince to join our fledgling religion.
I decided that we had talked enough for one night and snuggled into Lilith a little more to get comfortable under the weight of the large canine. When I found a good enough spot, I settled in and let myself fall asleep. Tomorrow will certainly be a busy day.
And what do you know, I was right. After going through my daily wake up routine, and reading a little more of my spell book, I went out onto the street to see what I could do. I was not prepared for the amount of people that I walked into. The crowd was thick, people traveling to and from their jobs carrying a wide variety of products, some even driving carts loaded with goods.
As I pushed my way into the flow of people, I began to realize that this would be a problem. I couldn’t very well stand up in front of everyone and preach, that was a good way for me to disappear without a trace. I needed to find other humans, hopefully isolated humans who would be willing to listen to me. There was only one thing I knew that was a constant in every city no matter where you went. If you want to find humans, go to the slums.
Like always, the fastest way to reach the slums in most cities was to move in the opposite direction to the main road. The further away from the economic center of a city, the more likely you were to find those who only worked manual labor jobs, which were mainly humans. Compared to a master of two-hundred years in any subject, the credibility of human craftsmen is dubious at best. Maybe Malery was right, if we still had access to the guidance of our ancestors, we might have had a way to keep up with them.
While I moved, I noticed a few changes happening the closer I got to the outer walls. For one thing, the number of people decreased in both quantity and variety. Secondly, while not in terrible condition, the state of both the streets and the buildings showed signs of wear or just a plain lack of maintenance. The buildings became smaller, more compact, some of them being two or three stories tall and looked to house a dozen different families.
Frankly, I didn’t even know what I was looking for. Malery had been simply a lucky find, someone who was already open to new ideas or sources of knowledge. How was I supposed to find someone like that again? Wandering around until I bumped into someone who cheerfully greets me and proclaims a desire for centuries old knowledge seemed unlikely, as well as inefficient.
While contemplating my options, something caught my attention. Drifting along between two houses was a wisp, one whose form was tainted with black strands that shifted around its smoky form. Curiosity, and I suppose duty, bade me to investigate. As inconspicuous as I could be, I changed directions and moved away from the eyes of passersby.
Whoever this wisp once was, they seemed to notice me as well when I got close. The little light drifted towards me, and then started to follow as I walked more into the cover that this alleyway provided. Once I was convinced that any wandering eyes could be avoided, I began my examination of this wandering soul.
Reaching out, I cupped the wisp in my hands, forming a connection between us. Regret, that was the primary emotion that flowed through the wisp and into me. They didn’t die in pain or suffering, but there was something that was left unfinished, or unsaid.
As soon as I got a sense of what was going on, the soul left my grasp and started to drift away. I felt that they wanted me to follow them, so I did so, content to see where this story would take me. After a minute or two of walking, the wisp took a sharp turn and entered a building by phasing right through the front door. The building in question was one of those community homes, so I figured that entering through the main door was fine enough, but I hoped that the wisp didn’t want me to break into someone's private room.
We ascended to the next floor until it came to a stop outside of a particular room. I stepped up to the door right alongside the wisp. From the way it was acting, it almost seemed to be hesitating, but my presence behind it apparently spurred it forward, and it phased through the door, leaving me to deliberate just what to do.
I guess knocking would be a start. A few raps of my knuckles on the front door later, I waited for a response for a moment before the muffled sounds of footsteps reached my ears. A locking bolt was undone, and the door creaked open ever so slightly. From the gap I saw a woman's face, middle aged, sandy blonde hair, and most noticeably, swollen puffy eyes. Her entire disposition just screamed dejection to me.
“Yes? Can I help you?” Her voice cracked a little when she first started talking, which only provided further evidence that whatever tragedy befell them was recent.
Being as polite as I could manage, given the strange circumstances, I answered her query. “I’m sorry to bother you miss, and forgive me if this is a strange question, but did someone pass away in this house recently?”
Her eyes widened for a moment. “What, how... Who are you?” She scanned me up and down scrutinizingly, more on edge now.
That was a rather difficult question to answer. Do I just blurt out that I followed a spirit here? No, she would probably think I was crazy if I did that. I considered for as long as I was able to and could only come up with one thing to say. Perhaps it’s time for me to accept my role.
“Ma’am, I am a wandering priest, here to bring comfort to the dead and their families. It may be a little much to ask, but I would like to provide my services to your family, so that all may find peace.”
She narrowed her gaze a little. “You don’t look like a priest.” Her eyes drifted down to my waist and the sword that was there. “And you’re awfully armed for one too.”
“Traveling can be dangerous at times, and it pays to know how to defend oneself.” Perhaps a show of trust was needed. I started to undo the strap that held my blade to my hip, removing the blade sheath and all while presenting it to the lady. “If it would make you feel safer, I would allow you to hold onto it while I work, but I would very much like it back.”
She seemed to be interested yet concerned at the same time. Hesitantly, the door opened a little more as she reached through it, stopping once she had a grip on the sword. “I have no money to give you.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“And I have no need of your money.” I answered in retort.
There was only a little more hesitation before she pulled the sword out of my grip while opening the door for me. We walked and talked for a moment while we made our way through the small home towards a back room. “My husband passed last night. He was a hardworking man, but he grew ill, and we didn’t have enough money to afford taking him to a doctor, or even to have the temple treat him.”
“The temple asks for money?” That seemed a little backhanded to me.
“Not exactly, but those who don’t offer a suitable amount in donations are forced to wait for weeks, sometimes even months for a priest to see to them. We didn’t have the money to give them, nor did we have the time to wait as it were.”
“I see.” That sounded like a very predatory practice, and it brought up a question of my own. What was the deal with those priests who came to my village then? They offered everything for free. While strange and in need of answering, I refocused on my current task.
The lady of the house opened the door to the bedroom, a very tiny little hole in the wall that seemed to be taken up solely by an above average sized bed. It seemed that the whole family used it, and it was a miracle that they didn’t contract any illness. Perhaps it wasn’t contagious, but I wasn’t a doctor, and the man was dead so I wouldn’t be able to tell either way.
Right now, two small children were kneeling by the side of the bed, fresh tears in their eyes. Upon the bed, with the sheets draped over most of his body, was the father of this household, a weary faced man with a stubbly beard laying still and calm. The scene was a heart wrenching one, but my gaze was drawn to the soul of what was undoubtedly this man above the body, waiting patiently for me.
The kids looked at me, a stranger in their house, hesitantly. I just gave them a small friendly smile with a slight bob of my head before moving to the opposite side of the bed. If this man had regrets, then he would probably want to be able to voice them to his family. There was a simple item detailed in the book that could help with that, but I would have to make it first.
From my bag I retrieved a small bone about the size of a finger and the small knife that Garth had given me. I stopped for a moment to look fondly at the tool, pleasant memories coming back to me for a moment before I shook myself free from the nostalgia. Taking the knife to the bone, I started to carve a specific set of symbols and runes upon it.
The lady watched perplexed, maybe a little uncomfortably, as I worked. “What are you doing?” She asked.
I thought about how to answer that in a way that wouldn’t get me immediately thrown out. “It is a charm of a sort. It will help me perform a ritual.”
“I’ve never seen a priest use bones before. Who do you serve?”
There was no way I could just come out and say it, I'd probably be labeled mad if not a heretic. So, I went with the roundabout explanation. “My god cares for humans, they wish to bring peace to the minds of those who hold regret and pain in their hearts, and your husband has regrets.”
She looked flabbergasted. “What do you mean?” I didn’t answer the question as I had just finished up with the charm. Now I just had to put it in the back of the man’s throat. Reaching towards his body, I pulled open his jaw which had begun to stiffen in rigor mortis. “What are you doing!” She stepped towards me challengingly, and I even saw her hand move to the hilt of my sword that she still held.
I defused the situation as best I could while still working. “Miss, please, I beg of you to have patience with me. I intend no harm. This is a necessary step that must be taken.” I lowered the bone into his mouth, pressing it downwards until it slipped into the back of his throat. Even I felt slightly grisly doing it, so I could empathize with the wife’s reaction.
Now for the part that I was sure would give everyone in the room but me a heart attack. I reached up for the wisp that was hovering above the body, placing a hand on either side of it to begin directing it back into its body. Whatever this looked like from the outside got me a queer look from the mother and a curious pair of glances from the children. My hands slowly lowered with the soul trailing along with it. In what was now a familiar motion, I placed my hands upon his chest and watched as the soul entered his body again.
It was only another moment of waiting before his body jerked back to life. A yelp of shock escaped the wife’s mouth, and she leaped forward to drag her children back. The family stared in muted horror as the body of the father began to sit up again. His eyes opened to reveal the unnatural blue glow of the undead as his body creaked and popped when he moved.
A timid voice from the other side of the bed managed to squeak out. “Daddy...” The little girl called out to her father.
The man now turned his attention towards his family. His wife flinched a little, but I couldn’t help but see the slight glimmer of hope on her face. Now a soft smile graced the man’s face as he stared at his children once again.
“Maria, Mathew, it’s me.” My charm seemed to have worked as the man could indeed speak again, but the voice came out strange, like an ethereal echo down a long corridor.
The kids, hearing their father's voice confirming his presence, surged forth intent to tackle the man back into the grave. Their mother fruitlessly tried to contain them, but she would have needed another two arms in order to accomplish that as they both slipped out of her reach and into the waiting arms of their father.
I was very much an outsider in this situation as I watched the reunion take place. The kids were obviously overjoyed that their father came back, but it all came out in the form of tears. Their father just gave their heads a gentle caress before saying what he wished to.
“I’m so sorry, to the both of you. I was always hard on you, pushing you because I thought that was the best way to prepare you for the world. I am a fool, and I have deprived you of many years of your childhood that you should have spent playing, carefree as to the woes of the older generation. You should not be forced to grow up, and I hope that you will forgive me.”
The kids heard his words but were too overwhelmed by their emotions to give any thoughtful response. Now, it seemed, it was his wife’s turn to be talked to. His smile remained, but his eyes became sad as he looked at her.
“My sunflower, I am sorry to you as well. I could not give you the life you deserved, and now I have even left you to bare the weight of the world on your own. I have failed you; I have failed you all, and I could never hope to-” His speech was interrupted when my sword slipped out of her grasp and crashed to the floor. While I didn’t appreciate the treatment of my weapon, I didn’t interrupt what was to come as her eyes were filled with tears that flowed down her face.
She rushed to the side of her husband right next to their children, her voice shaky but filled with conviction. “No, you didn’t fail any of us. You gave me exactly what I always wanted, what I always needed. You gave me love, you gave me a family, everything else means nothing to me.”
His gave was cast downwards. “I still left you alone when I always promised we would be together forever.”
“That wasn’t your fault. They worked you to death. I knew how much strain was put on you to provide for us, even when you tried to hide it beneath your smile. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, so don’t you dare say that you’re a failure.”
If he was capable of it right now, I think the man might have started crying. Because of his current condition, he was only able to close his eyes tightly, face melting into relief. The whole family dissolved into a group hug while I just tried to make my presence as small as possible.
They held that hug for several minutes before the man finally broke out of the pile. He gave his children each a kiss on the forehead. When it was his wife’s turn, he cupped the side of her face in his hand, gently running a thumb over her cheek. She pressed his hand against her, savoring the sensation one last time.
Once the quiet farewell was over, the man turned to me for the first time, giving me a nod that conveyed he had said all he needed to. When I approached, I was met with an extended hand and a few words.
“Thank you, sir. Words cannot express how much you have done for me and my family.” I accepted the handshake but couldn’t find any words with which to respond. With only an acknowledging nod, I dropped the handshake and went to bring a close to this scene.
Reaching forward, I placed a hand upon his chest and began to feel around for his soul. Once I found it, buried inside of him, I began to pull to extract it once more. Despite his willingness to pass on, the soul itself was loathe to leave its body once more. I had to get forceful with it, practically ripping it free from its hold as the wispy smoke of its form slowly emerged. Before he was completely removed, the man gave his family one last smile and closed his eyes as his soul was finally extracted.
I was able to catch him before he crashed down to the bed, lowering his body at a much more respectable rate. The man’s soul was now free of the black regret that it once held, but I decided to give him a proper sendoff anyway. Holding up the soul to eye level, I bowed my head slightly and felt the familiar words reach my lips.
“Be at peace and return to the calm twilight at the end of all things.”
With that, the wisp solidified its form into a vibrant orb of pale blue before ascending and disappearing into the air. I let out a sigh of resolution, feeling content with the work that I had done. Collecting my things, including the bone charm from the man’s throat, I made to give my own farewell to the family but was interrupted by the wife.
“Sir, please wait. Might you tell me of your god? I would like to give thanks to them.”
I received an immediate go-ahead from the omnipotent voice in my head, so I told her. “The Lord of Twilight, the patron of the dead, and the god of humanity. They shepherd our souls to the next life, and those who serve them may even speak with the dead again as I have shown.”
She asked for no more information, and instead just went to her knees in prayer. What I did not expect from this situation was for my god to actually flinch in a such a way that I could feel it. If I didn’t know any better, I would have said they recoiled, but as it were, they simply seemed to be stunned, like they weren’t expecting it.
It has been so long since I last felt a true prayer.
The term confused me. True prayer? Why is it that different from a regular prayer?
She asks for nothing, there is no ulterior motive, she is simply praying, thanking me. Her faith feels... invigorating. I was happy for them. In my mind I likened what they must have been feeling to drinking water after almost dying of thirst.
The rest of my stay with the family consisted of answering a few questions and giving a few warnings. I educated her a bit about her new focus of worship, what to expect, the limits of their power, all the pertinent information. Just like that, we had more followers.
The success of this visit gave me an idea. There was a local graveyard outside the city that was used for most burials. Perhaps I might replicate what I did here, finding a soul whose family still lived and needed closure. I couldn’t expect every encounter to go like that, but it would be better than just walking up to some random family with a sales pitch.
When I got to the graveyard, it was indeed filled with wandering souls. Some of them were simply those who couldn’t find their way, others bore the telltale signs of regret or trauma in their black tinged forms. I helped the lost ones pass on to the other side while I followed those who were filled with lingering attachments towards the source of said attachments.
It worked, more often than I expected. Those who led me to family were the most awkward, yet the most successful. I could use the ritual to speak with them once I had convinced the family to let me do such a thing. It always started with shock and fear, but once they began to talk to their loved ones, to hear their voices again, it brushed aside the family's concern and gave way to a touching reunion.
So far, I had managed to avoid running into anyone who had too deep an attachment to the current religions not to at least give us a chance. Despite it being slow going, I knew that the risk was steadily increasing the more people I talked to. I gave those who accepted our religion warnings about the dangers of the situation, but people talk, and they may say things that they don’t mean to.
I had been at it for a little over a week now, I had talked to hundreds of people and helped probably a thousand souls find peace. Even with all that, it felt like I was barely even making a dent in the masses of souls that I found, and more seem to wander in daily. I wondered if perhaps me performing these rites were attracting them.
Right now, I was walking down the street after just finishing up another meeting with a family. I became curious if it was just as difficult for Malery and decided to ask. How’s Malery doing? Are there any problems on her end?
Physically, she is well, mentally, she is asking an incessant number of questions, and recruitment wise, she is still getting used to seeing and interacting with the dead, though she has found a few more to add to our numbers.
I gave a slight shrug. I guess I have had a few years to come to terms with this ability.
Just then, I looked down a side street that led towards the main road to find a crowd of people lined up on the side of the street. Curiosity drove me to investigate this happening, and I approached the crowd to see what was going on. There was a dull murmur amongst the people, and the consensus was that not everyone knew what was happening as well, they only knew that they were moved off the street by some soldiers just a minute ago.
We would get our answer soon enough, because I was able to see some people moving down the middle of the street. As they got closer, I could make out more details, and it was obvious that they were affiliated with the local religion as a procession of robed individuals moved deeper into the city.
Disdain colored my features as I watched the flaunting of power. My interest in this whole thing was quickly fading, and I was just about to turn away when I noticed something, and someone, who made my chest seize and my eyes go wide.
The clopping of horse hooves heralded his arrival, a dozen followers riding along behind him. Surrounding him, a storm of angry wisps darted around, flashing like black fire, hardly a hint of the natural blue they should possess. There, upon a white horse, face displaying confidence in his own authority, was the elvish paladin who burned down my home and reduced my parents to the state that they were in. In that moment, I could barely think. My jaw clenched and I was sure that my eyes were filled with unmitigated rage.
I was seeing red.