“The impurities that the Moon reveals can be cleansed by fire. To be spared on the darkest night, one must burn on the brightest day.”

-Tenet of the Solstice Church

Gaspard kicked a foot through the ashen remnants of the building. The last remnants of the flame had burned out long ago, it seemed. With one gloved hand he dug at a suspicious glint in the ash, and pulled out a half-charred corpse. The blackened skin flaked away at his touch, exposing charcoal bone beneath. There weren’t many facial features left to go by, but thankfully gold endured flames that flesh could not.

The finery of the church still hung loose around the neck of the charred corpse. Gaspard knew the sigil of the high priests on sight. While there remained the slightest chance that the golden vestment had been stolen or gifted to another before the Moon, Gaspard took it as a loose confirmation that the preacher was dead. While there would always be a measure of uncertainty, Gaspard could cross the preacher off his list, just as he had the host.

Gaspard had heard rumors that the preacher had turned to the teachings of the sun cult in his final days. Rather than face the Moon, the preacher had chosen to face the fires of the Sun. Just as the Solstice Church said, he had ignited his home and all his worldly possessions, to cleanse himself of sin. Likely the house had burned down with him still inside. Gaspard had to wonder if the preacher had held to his faith in the final moments, and burned with dignity, or if he’d changed his mind and scrambled for safety before the flames had taken him. If they had taken him at all.

A scorched beam crumbled to ash as Gaspard kicked it in frustration. There was no satisfaction to be found here. Not even in the idea of the preacher’s painful death, for if he had died at all, he had not died alone.

This home, unlike the home Gaspard had burned not long after his awakening, had very close neighbors. The inferno had jumped from building to building, spreading across half the neighborhood. All told, there were about ten homes that had been consumed in the inferno. That made for a lot of innocent people who’d been consumed for another man’s sins. Just another reason the preacher deserved justice, and another reason for Gaspard to be frustrated he was unable to deliver it.

This temporary disruption did not put an end to Gaspard’s mission. There were other targets on Gaspard’s list. The philosopher, the painter, the merchant, the astrologer, and the king. Gaspard trudged across the ashen ruins, heading for the guilty parties that still remained.

Since the beginning of this harrowing undertaking, Gaspard had kept his mind, sharp, always expecting the unexpected. He assumed the worst in every situation and thus was never surprised when some new horror lunged from the shadows. The mantra of pessimism kept him mostly calm as the first hand emerged from the ashen ruins, and for the second as well. The third hand started to strain it. As three became four and four became five and five became countless, Gaspard began to admit that he was unpleasantly surprised.

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He cut away the ashen claws that grasped at his boot and stepped back, nearly stepping into two more grasping hands. Gaspard struck his sword down towards the source of the arms and watched it bounce harmlessly off a charred piece of wood. Burned flesh made it impossible to tell where the monster ended and the scorched ruins began. Gaspard hacked at another of the grasping limbs and surveyed the situation. There were dozens of limbs reaching up from the wreckage. It was doubly shocking because Gaspard had never seen more than one monster in the same place.

As Gaspard stood in the field of ash and arms, he slowly came to realize that he wasn’t looking at more than one monster. Beneath the charred rubble and ash, the fused flesh of dozens, perhaps hundreds, had melted into one. His stomach turned and he slashed at the nearest arm, trying to maim this monstrosity however he could. He would need more than severed limbs to slaughter this beast, though. Gaspard looked to the edge of the ashen monster’s form and saw a single scorched remnant of the buildings that had once stood here. A heavy brick and mortar wall, burned black by the fire, still stood -for now.

Hacking away the ashen limbs like a conquistador cutting through the undergrowth, Gaspard slashed his way to the wall. He could feel the fused flesh of the creature below shifting underfoot, unsettling it’s shell of burned wood and wreckage. Gaspard shuddered to think of the true appearance of this creature. Better to leave it buried beneath the rubble and ruin.

One limb managed to take hold of Gaspard’s ankle, just a few steps from the wall. Desperate to be free of it’s grip, he slashed with too much of his strength and set himself off balance. Gaspard plummeted down, landing hard on a sizable piece of charcoal. He grabbed it and pushed it aside in an attempt to right himself. The charcoal rolled away. Gaspard looked down, and a single yellow eye looked back up at him.

Gaspard stabbed down at the eye with his sword and cursed the Mad Moon aloud. He abandoned his cutting path and dashed across the burned expanse, avoiding the grasping limbs as best he could. He reached the burned wall and kept his back to it as he edge around to the far side, out of reach of the blackened limbs, out of sight of the yellow eyes.

Though he was out of reach, Gaspard would never be able to relax as long as the monster still lived. He grabbed a piece of fallen timber to use as a battering ram and slammed it into the charred stonework. The wall, lacking the support it had once had, shifted under the impact. Gaspard rammed into it again, and again, striking it with breathless blows, desperate to see it fall.

With a final strike, the bricks of the wall gave way, and it tumbled towards the burned beast. Gaspard could hear gurgling cries of pain from hidden mouths as stone after stone tumbled down onto it’s body. With one last single sickening lurch of it’s unseen form, the ashen hands reached out to the sky and then fell limp.

Gaspard took a few steps back, just to be safe, and collapsed against a wall that was yet standing. He flinched and pulled away for a moment, expecting hands to emerge from the bricks and grab him, but no such monstrosities emerged.

In time, Gaspard allowed himself to sit and breath, and then to continue on his path.