The winter has arrived—bringing upon these lands its chilling pale sheet while the mist blinds the sight miles wide. To keep warm, I quench my insides with the alcohol I find scattered down in the cellar. My long strolls through the corridors can only do so much as these thin windows contain no barrier to the cold air. With a simple glance outside, I see something moving... A wagon pulled by two black stallions with fabrics covering their backs. Has a Phader arrived at the chapel at this time of year? I had not received a letter about such a visit. I headed for the main door, where Cresalin and her helpers were already greeting our guests.
She stood presently with a welcoming gesture, then invited the strangers into the main hall... As I approached the group, the modest welcoming had already turned sour. The Phader known as ‘Horton’ splurges unthankful words towards my colleague: “My dear, I am considered a prophet to many people of this fine country. If I am not presented with wine and—”
The man beside him grabbed the Phader’s shoulder, urging him to calm down: “Please, Phader Horton. This lady welcomed us in without question. You could say ‘Thank you’ at the very least.”
I walk forward with my greeting: “Welcome, Dr. Krill and Phader Horton,” I said eagerly, “It is a surprise to see the two of you here—especially in the winter.”
Dr. Krill walked forward with a long smile against his sunken face, shaking my hand as he spoke: “Phader Karthuras, it has been a long time since I had seen that damn beard of yours!” he chuckled.
I replied: “I had always kept it firmly trimmed over these past months.”
“Enough of these—pleasantries,” Horton intruded: “I am tired from the cold and bumpy roads! My pecker is shriveled and may fall off any moment.”
To keep my—limited hospitality, I lead the two with Cresalin by my side. She walks forward with a stern expression. Horton had already left a negative impression on both of us; however, I had already expected it to be the case due to his insecurities. He was first to be considered Phader for this Cathedral, only for me to be chosen instead... Only the three of us gathered by the fire at one of the tables as the servants prepared a small meal. Tempted, Cresalin was to sit by my side, but the foul first impression from the Phader made her walk elsewhere for the time being.
Before she left, she whispered in my ear: “I shall prepare a place for them to rest in. But if the Phader speaks anymore, I shall leave him outside in the cold...” Her spitefulness worried me.
I turned my attention back towards our guest: “Normally, the capital would send a letter of one’s arrival. Especially the presence of a fellow Phader...”
Dr. Krill responded: “I’m afraid these matters are private. We cannot have a commoner read the letters and turn those words into gossip for the public. You and I both know the dangers that could cause.”
“You... Have you read my letters to the Archphader?”
Horton grins, turning the fat folds of his face while speaking: “Oh yes, Phader. We have read these—interesting riddles of your anomalies and wench malformities... Such tales could place you in a noose if read by the wrong set of eyes.”
Dr Krill looks at me with discomfort, “I’m sorry about this intrusion. I did not wish for it, having no choice under this circumstance.”
Before I could curse Horton for this—act of betrayal, our drinks had arrived, and so had our meals. Alas, the anger boils inside me, detracting the sense from simple pleasures. Krill could not touch his food either as Horton dug in with restless fervor... I had to drink to calm these nerves from further expansion. Thankfully, it did not take long for us to join my study.
I was the first to break the bitter silence: “Phader Horton, what provokes a coward’s way of negotiation? What is it you’re after?”
Horton chuckles again under his breath, “Oh Karthuras, how long I have waited for this moment to see that calm face stern with a fiery lust for blood. I will never forget this moment!”
Krill commented, "I would not worry about such affairs, Karthuras. We are here for other reasons besides politics.”
I ask: “What other reason could you have?”
Horton replied: “To answer the greatest question we all ask ourselves when no one is looking,” he leans forward, “To see Sleeper himself... To see if such a being truly exists. When I read those letters, the contents regarding the conjuring arts prompted the idea. You may rejoice to know my death draws closer by the day—and before I die—I must witness the answer for myself. I will be remembered as the man who observed the other side and returned to the mortal realm.”
“Are you dull from your old age, Horton? Do you wish for our order to brand us as heretics?”
Horton replied: “Do not whine, youngling... I shall take the fall if the question were to arise. There is no point in me destroying your reputation if there is nothing to keep in the long term. In fact, you should thank me—by licking the boots that grace your floor... But that’s enough for me; I have bottles to empty before this night ends. I expect our plans will be explored by tomorrow.” He left the room.
I had to rest deeper in my chair, allowing the bitter sensation to course through me. Still, I needed more answers from my—friend; I hesitated to say: “What is your arrangement with that bastard? Are you not an atheist?”
Krill took a swig from his flask before he spoke: “That—I still am, for now, to be given such an opportunity is a rare treat to devour. It’s hard to look away... But I was not given this opportunity respectfully, no—he threatened my livelihood and prepared his servants to brand me a heretic, following the ways of Hettalies... Believe me, I did not want us to reunite under these conditions.”
“I can tell you’re distressed from this affair, and yet—there is something I should mention... I have indeed researched the minimal exploits of this—strange power, but I have no intentions of using it. Sarian had only the basic framework for me to learn from and only one conjure to put into practice.”
“From the contents of your letters, it seemed to work in his favor.”
“He could transfer his soul inside a commodity, true as it was at the time. However, to bring someone back from the dead is—speculative, to say the least.”
“Does the framework you mentioned not contain the fundamental understanding for you to practice?”
“I also mentioned my limited involvement with this knowledge... I do not wish to practice such—wicked...” I had to stop myself before ranting about its implications and the time I spent with these anomalies.
“You don’t have much choice in this matter as I,” Krill mentioned, “Horton is more than willing to destroy our social standings and rid us into the countryside—or by the noose around our necks.”
I hesitated: “If our choices are limited as you say, then I shall—dive deeper into this—abyss of lunacy.”
“We shall discuss more of this tomorrow, Karthuras. Remember, if you need my help, do not hesitate to ask.”
“I shall keep that in mind.”
#
This task lingered in my skull like a damn—parasite. For a month, I handled my research with absolute precision (within my spare minutes, of course.) Such lengths I had dived into the unnatural bending of the material world... The only times of peace I’ve had were through Cresalin’s persistence to care for my agitated state. Simple as it may seem, to feel an ounce of peace from the bitter drink she often brings. At times, I wondered if her presence was nothing more than an illusion in my mind, conjured to balance my sanity—before I fell into that swarming state of paranoia...
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This is what I have learned thus far: these arts are performed under the strict rules of sacrificing the body or the life that dwells within it (a hard choice to make in the short term); either the body is repurposed, or the soul is removed from this plane of existence... I had mentioned this rule to both Horton and Krill—who remain ambitious... Dr Krill assures me that this medical procedure will control the contents of his life, allowing my efforts to have less strain. I’m afraid to say such comfort cannot be afforded; instead, I had to devise a plan that would guarantee some level of success. From the very words of Sarian himself: ‘Taketh the soul from the body and deliver upon the rotting corpse. What keeps the body whole is the essence of life previously departed.’
I had one more point to take from this consultation. From the very man who is held, rotting in the dungeon. The Galik-Brusadore... Entering his cell, I find him against the wall, covering the contents of his festered skin. It does not take an intellectual to see the man is dying from the current state I had placed him in.
“W-what is it you want!?” Galik demanded an answer.
“I wish to know more of these conjuring arts—including its consequences.”
Galik laughs violently with a graveling rumble in his throat, “Have you grown curious about the ideas of true freedom!?”
I replied: “I only wish to experiment with this concept.”
“I won’t tell you anything! Anything at all... How dare you ask of me after leaving me here for months! All I’ve had to eat—is dung falling from above my head... May you rot in the realm of nightmares for the rest of eternity!” Lunacy had corrupted his mind. It was pointless to ask such a simple question, and I would have granted him a mercy killing if he were to answer simply. A waste of effort, this was...
There was one last thing I needed to do: Equipping blades and amour. My skills in these tools are nonexistent. Even when I tried to fight that monster on that unfortunate day with the widow and her son, almost slicing my hand from my lack of grip...
I had begun wishing for the chance to burn Sarian’s book of the Conjuring arts—while strolling down the corridors with Phader Horton and Dr. Krill. With the knowledge I had obtained, a certain darkness looms behind me—or perhaps it’s the paranoia overwhelming my thoughts. To speak truthfully, practicing this art among my colleagues terrifies me. Every action we take comes with consequences—thus, will I be tempted to experiment further?
We had made it to the lower depths of the cathedral. Through the darkness, we enter the next room, with flagstone walls and planks left to rot under the humid atmosphere. The twitching of the slowly dying rat—did not spark any sense of confidence... Dr. Krill lays out a bed roll for Horton to lie upon, then digs into his bag to find the needed tools. Strangely, he takes out a curious leather mask: Its design contains a single silver ring around the face, held within the leather folds, while the leather within the ring is cross-stitched, allowing the wearer to have sight of the operation. I ask: “Is it wise to wear it during the procedure?”
Krill replied: “I can see just fine... I can’t have the sweat of my brow dripping into Horton’s innards.”
Horton added: “And it would be wise to see Sleeper’s ring in my final moments. Even if it’s just a mask...” he coughed.
As they continued the preparations, I took a moment to secure this room. There were no other exits besides the door we entered through. With a strand of rope, I could tie the door handles together... Then I reminded myself of my current gear—taping the sheathed dagger around my belt and feeling the cold steel of my chest plate and—the potato hidden underneath.
“Do not worry, Karthuras,” Krill reassures, “Will you remove that rope and put aside your dagger? You’re making me nervous.”
I replied: “The consequences of my actions might take a toll greater than us. Perhaps it could take over the cathedral...”
“I doubt Sleeper will interfere with our work. Does he not wish us to prosper and find the answers we seek?”
“That is a part of the many lectures... I doubt we will encounter the very being that created us—rather... Well, I’m not sure of what we’ll find.”
#
In my quarter span of life, I had never countered such sights committed under the pretense of medical dismemberment. A sight which regards the skin and takes the innards of oneself for operation. Horton consented to our colleague Krill committing such actions, but I don’t think the old man truly comprehended this act. Fortunately, the doctor had a special potion to render the individual unconscious promptly. I watched the ghastly sight of the doctor splitting the flesh, stretching folds to reveal ribs until the heart was—exposed for all to see... As I tried to hold back my spew, the doctor placed a needle inside the old man’s heart, injecting a serum. I asked about its contents, and in response, I was answered with ‘Salt and sugar,’ the two components needed to stop a beating heart—or at least simmer the rhythm into a dying state.
Blood spilled in liters with every moment spent on this operation; with the mask on, I could sense the Doctor feared his own capabilities. Even so, the perspective needed to satisfy the question of Sleeper’s existence lingers on as our commitment... As he injects the serum into the beating heart—its rhythm decreases in the passing moment. The pale curtain is drawn over his lifeless body as the excrement passes into his undergarments. Dreadful the smell is...
Those small moments of our time are counted—making a minute. Within that minute, Krill uses both hands to press Horton’s dying heart in a rhythm until it beats lively again. His efforts unfortunately had no sign of progress, thus acquiring me to perform the ritual. Hesitation pulsated through my thoughts as I considered this action, merely digging my grave for the terms of ‘promise.’
Before I allowed the Phader to die, I had placed the spud near his body to allow the blood to flow onto its skin. Krill did not question this action and rather helped me lift the fat man’s body. Once he leaned him over, I then chanted the words: “Taketh the soul from the body and deliver upon the rotting corpse. What keeps the body whole is the essence of life previously departed.”
His blood slithers like worms exhaling from the soil, devouring the nearest morsel. Festering away at the spud—twisting and turning the body until a human-like face appeared.
Krill removes his mask, revealing his unnerved gaze, perplexed by this... for lack of a better term ‘morbid-comedy.’ He muttered: “Hor-horton...?”
Horton opened his eyes, hazy in his current state, “Krill... I—I had seen him... I had seen the endless dark...”
I lingered towards their side with my dagger ready to strike.
Krill pressed further: “Damnit, what did you see!? Tell me everything!”
Horton’s eyes rolled side to side as his teeth began chattering, “My soul was carried away from my body, past the stone walls and into the night sky. I could see the stars as an ocean of darkness surrounded me. Then I saw him, floating with his hands stretched out, the dark hood showing me true oblivion. The nothingness... I had no control of my path; the void was absolute, the destination. Before entering that abyss, I suddenly returned to this world to where I am now... Please, I beg of you—don’t let me return!”
Krill steps back, “No—I don’t believe it...”
I asked: “There is only darkness behind the shadow?”
“Nothing more...” Horton answered, petrified.
My fears grew profoundly as the moments passed, not even in silence where we were left to ponder this reality. I could sense a presence—it draws closer yet...
“It’s coming for me! It’s coming for me!” Horton shrilled.
Then, I could see something moving within the darkness at the ceiling. A silver ring, spinning as it gives a hollow cry... I wanted to run, and all be damned in my absence! Within that wide ring, I could see something else moving from within. Before long, it also emerged like a fish hook sinking into the bottom of the lake. Its structure wasn’t human though—abstractly designed to be one, beyond the realm in which can grow and produce... It protrudes over to Horton, who remains in his perplexed state.
“Join with us—Horton...” The creature’s voice echoes through the room with a deep rumbling tune. Its arms rip apart from the folds as the hands grab him!
“No, please!” Horton cried, “I don’t want to go back! I don’t want to see him! I don’t want to see him! I don’t want to see him!”
Those deafening cries did not hinder the creature’s heart from changing action. It was relucted... When they transverse into the darkness again, the ring removes itself from this reality, leaving Krill and I astonished by this terrible event.
“There... There is nothing more for me to do,” Krill cried, “Even in truth—I still don’t know the answer...”
I replied: “We cannot allow this idea to spread among these walls. If they don’t believe in the land of dreams, the people will forever remain in a nihilistic state of existence.”
He turns to me, amazed by my comment, “Why would you keep this hidden!? Do you not understand what we could do with this answer? We can finally escape—truly be free from all corruption and disorder—finally, we can strive to become immortals.”
“We still don’t know what lies beyond the void. There is still a possibility that the land of dreams still exists.”
“No!” Krill yelled, “I am tired of this religion...! Karthuras, you are a free thinker such as I—why will you allow these ideas to continue to sway your mind!”
“Because life is uncertain... Please, my friend—rise from your despair.”
“I can’t do that, Karthuras... The people deserve to know the truth of the afterlife.”
As he made his way for the door—my anguish twisted my heart within a violent grasp, pulsating the very organ within a tight grasp. No words could utter beyond my lips... Why could he not listen to reason? Does he not understand the nature of our kind? Our kingdom will fall into ruin once more if he spreads the truth. Damnit to all! He left me with no other alternative... As he tries to unbind the rope holding the door in place—I take the dagger with a firm grasp, plunging the blade into the skull of my dear friend! He fell over on his side as the blood poured from his untethered flesh.
Tears ran down my eyes as I tried to keep myself planted on the ground, but this pain—this pain was too great for one to bear. I never wanted this to happen—no, I warned them of these consequences, and they chose not to listen. Why do they all choose the path of destruction? Perhaps I am the mad one here—I held myself back from the truth for too long, and now, I stand in desolation.