To the inhabitants of Mushin it had felt like an eternity since the warm glow of the sun had slowly sunk behind the distant horizon leaving behind a moonless night. What would have been a star-studded sky had instead been suffocated of any illumination by dark shapeless clouds swirling and birling in the heavens.
On a night where the very light of all celestial bodies was obstructed from nearing the town a single shadow remained. The stench and shadow of death overwhelmed the place; enveloped it entirely without exception. The graves of the ancestors that had been silenced were now stirring. The villagers had long since abandoned their daily activities; working on farms, coin and ware exchanging hands in the market and cries of preachers calling for sinners to repent. The evenings hunt had been left sour; any game that might have been snared had fled in terror from the dark energy gathering around the town. Even the tall oak trees that had been standing in place for centuries now swayed to the lightest breeze. Only a single soul still had not found refuge.
In the distance a figure could be seen rapidly advancing across the far-off fields the villagers had worked so tirelessly during the daybreak. As he continued to make progress he felt a sinister chill begin to creep in. In the self-assured arrogance of youth, he thought he could resist but the merciless winter cold refused to discard its feeble target. Its vice grip tightened and tightened around him until he had no choice but to admit defeat. The heavy burlap sack he had been carrying hit the ground with a thud. He opened its contents to reveal the magnificent winter clothes he had bought just for this job. He was forced to overpay for them; the bitter cold did not come often to his hometown. Despite steeling himself when he shrugged out of his thin summer clothes, he let out a high-pitched shriek when a sudden gust of wind blew past. Suddenly motivated he quickly changed into his new outfit which was surely more adequate than his previous garments. He now wore a thick woollen coat over matching pair of bright magenta tunic and breeches and a tough pair of leather boots. The only things that remained were the gem, armband and bracelet he now wore under his clothes that marked the unique nature of his profession. Keeping them tight against his body, he no longer felt the thick tendrils of dark energy around his throat, but the threat was still present.
As he began to near the town the blistering pace he set had slowed to a crawl until it was all he could do to put one foot in front of another without stumbling. The possibility of tripping and breaking his neck had not escaped him. In these conditions no one would ever find him, he mused, if there was even another living being out here in the darkness. As he approached the village he paused briefly while he rummaged around inside his overcoat. He produced a small stump of a candle with a short wick, a smooth but sharp flint that had lost its lustre with time and use, and a misshapen chunk of singed wood. With a well-practised flick of the wrist he struck the flint against the wood, a spark latched onto the candle and the vicinity burst into life as light washed over and illuminated everything it touched. The man flinched with pain as his eyes struggled to adjust to the brilliant white glow, but he forced his eyes to stay open. He slowly gathered his bearings and began to take note of his surroundings. To his immediate right was a well that greeted guests at the front of the town. Suddenly aware of his thirst, he strode over to it, grabbed a nearby bucket and extracted a pail of water. As he lifted it to drink the sound of metal clinking metal reverberated throughout the night. Shining the lamp light over the newly found prize revealed to his amazement that the pail and well were filled with coin upon coin. Mostly polished silver and glittering with only a few bronzed among them, he clutched a handful and hastily tucked it away. The journeys toll on his health and possessions was surely deserving of compensation.
He wandered through the unfamiliar village here and there raising his lamp so the light would catch the houses all around. The crudely barricaded doors creaked with the wind, nails poking through long wooden planks. Thick black smoke was rising from the chimney of a small cottage in a lonely part of town. The whole place was marred with black marks; darkest near the top of the house, as if the thatched roof had been set alight numerous times. He couldn’t help but recoil in disgust as the strong mixed odour of plants and herbs, animal insides, possibly bits of human and other nefarious ingredients were fleeing the place. It was the only building in the entire town that had not been sealed shut from the outside world. He continued to walk along the narrow streets until he found the building he had been looking for. A quiet shoddy looking monastery that had been chiselled out of stone by masons who were no doubt hurrying to far grander and richer ventures. The outside of the building had been draped in pictures of Christ in various forms: Jesus giving out bread and fish, Christ at the Last Supper, Christ on the cross. He stepped up to the plain looking front door and gave it a sharp rap. As he raised his fist to knock again the door was yanked in causing him to nearly fall over in shock.
He was greeted with a rough hand gripping his back, holding him from falling. As he regained his balance, he saw that his saviour was a pale giant of a man dressed in simple loose-fitting garments. His hood was down, exposing his bald head which shone in light from torches arranged neatly along the walls of the abbey. A monk then.
“Get in! Where have you been? We’ve been waiting for eternity! The elders of the town are going to be furious-”.
“Then we don’t have time to waste with idle talk.” The man simply shrugged off the monks hold and walked past him through the monastery. The monk stared for a second before hurrying after him. One look at the state of the monastery was enough to see it wasn’t just the poor townspeople that suffered. The adornment on the outside hid most of the damage; the poor condition of the bricks that held up the monastery, the rotting sunken floor and gaps in walls where rats had burrowed through. Clearly Church officials, responsible for all formal Christian property, no longer had the money nor the will to contribute to the upkeep of a convent as small as this.
As they came upon the door to the nave, a curious stale smell wafted in along with the soft chants of hymn.
A dozen hooded monks were kneeled in prayer at the altar. A monk at the front had his back to the congregation while leading the chants with a big booming voice that echoed around the spacious, empty room. It did not go unnoticed he wore silks in place of the simple brown tunics of the other members. Loaves of hardened bread and goblets half filled with wine were lying on tables either side of the altar.
“Ahem”, the man coughed. “I believe you have an urgent situation on your hands. I am the curse cleanser you requested.”
“Yes, yes come in” the abbot waved a ringed hand in the air without turning around. “You’ve certainly taken your time. Last I checked the journey from Terenae was not a long one.”
“True enough. But I take it you have noticed these are strange and perilous times. The road to Mushin has all but been abandoned by any soldiers who might protect it. A single traveller must fend off a small army of bandits and thieves if he is to get here alive.”
“You seem very tired. Was it a difficult task?” the abbot asked innocently.
The man ignored him and, to the abbot’s surprise, strolled past him to the tables of food. He picked up a goblet and drank deeply until his thirst was quenched. For a moment, the brothers paused their prayers to look up, every eye on the newcomer and his alien ways.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
The bread might have been stale, but he reached for it anyway, eager to satisfy his hunger. As he went to reach for it the abbot caught his forearm with a strong grip.
“Ill-mannered as well as tardy”, the abbot shook his head in disgust. “You are in our presence now. From now until you have cleansed this town you will obey our laws and customs. The brothers and I have decided this misfortune will be a time for reflection and prayer. A ritual fast will do wonders for the spirit, especially for one lacking such restraint”. The priest sneered down at the man with obvious disdain. “The only alcohol you will find in this establishment is for Mass. “
“You’ll be glad to hear I brought my own. I am not here for a religious sermon. Show me to my rooms.”
“Mira! Lead our curse cleanser here to his lodgings.”
A young boy popped up from around the door. He raced over to the newcomer and looked up at him in wonder.
“Before I leave for the night. We must discuss my contract and what it’s worth. Truth be told this is a hard case-
“And how do we know you can complete it? You have shown us no proof of your capabilities. Where is your mark?”
The monks could no longer hide their interest, their reverie broken. The room was filled with nervous trepidation, all hopes of salvation in this life pinned on this one outsider. The man removed his overcoat and handed it to the boy. The clergyman all stared; their eyes fixed on the jewellery adorning the man’s arm. He slipped off his armband and bracelet and delicately handed it to the priest. He looked down at it, transfixed in disbelief.
“Only a silver armband? And a copper bracelet? Is this meant to be a mockery?”
He flung the metal pieces at the man’s chest who caught them, his face flush in anger at the disrespect.
“We are facing untold dangers and the destruction of our whole town, and this is who they send? Boy you better have a good explanation-“
“If silver wasn’t enough, maybe this is more to your taste?” The man brought out the polished amethyst around his neck, glittering in the torchlight. For a moment in time nobody moved. The monks sat still in shock; the abbot open mouthed, his previous fury forgotten. Then laughter. The walls reverberated with the sound of mirth coming from the priest, doubled over shaking with glee.
When he finally regained his composure, his eyes moved over the stranger head to toe as if seeing him in a completely new light.
“Well its not often we receive a member of nobility here in this monastery. Or should I say ex-nobility.” A slight smile still played at his lips as he spoke. “Let’s see if we can take care of you during your exile. You have been banished, were you not?”
“That’s right” the man muttered between gritted teeth, his fists clenched. “If you’re going to talk so brazenly let’s do it somewhere private. The whole convent need not know of my private affairs.”
The priest was evidently enjoying the level of discomfort he was causing but nonetheless acquiesced to the request. He led the man down into an alcove that was as elegant as it was small. A beautiful silk rug stretched out over a polished oak floor. The slow tick tock of an intricately carved wooden clock could be heard, a solemn reminder of the current predicament.
As soon as he heard the door close with a click, he whirled around to the priest.
“You may have heard my jade armband was taken along with my name. It is true. But the curse that holds your town is a potent one. You said it yourself, this would be too difficult for an ordinary silver and copper carrying cleanser.” He stepped up to the priest until they were nose to nose. Heavy perfume clung to the priest’s rich fabrics but the smell of nervous sweat dripping from the priest overpowered it easily. “Don’t think for one second my skill has faded. You know my reputation. If you’ve got the coin, we can do business. As long as you don’t mess with my personal affairs, we have an agreement. Is that understood?”
The priest nodded his understanding and the man withdrew.
“Now onto business. Like I was saying, this is a delicate situation. From the looks of it the whole town has been infected with ill magic. To remove it is a tricky process. It may take days. It may take months. It may take years. Shhh- don’t interrupt me. These are the terms for any contract, but especially this one. With regards to my personal arrangements it seems you already understand guests’ rights, although your etiquette could use work.”
At this the abbot became positively outraged. The man continued regardless.
“While I am here, I will have private rooms with your Mira as my servant. He is to fetch hot water, clean my clothes, bring me meals and if necessary, taste them.
“You suspect foul play?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time. You’d be surprised how profitable misfortune is for several businesses- tarot readers, cemetery workers, witch doctors - hell even some religious institutions stand to benefit.”
To his credit the priest did not lower his eyes, his own icy stare meeting the mans unfazed look.
“If anyone is to communicate with me, rather than disturb my work they are to talk with the boy. In time he will learn how I operate. The cost of apprehending whoever, no whatever is behind this will be immense. No doubt the plentiful coffers of the Church will be accommodating. The people of the town must also be at my service, ready to answer any inquiry necessary to deal with the root of the problem. In exchange I will purge this curse. Tougher spells have been broken by lesser cleansers. If these terms are favourable-”
“Favourable?
The man shrugged. “As favourable as they can be when you have no other choice. A perfect segue to discuss how much this venture will cost you.”
“Our simple monastery is but a humble abode for those who have moved beyond material possessions.”
The man raised an eyebrow, his eyes sweeping around taking in the riches on display.
“As a representative of the Church, however, I am willing to invest a considerable sum to save the people of this town”, the priest hastily added. “Name your price.”
“1000 gold pieces.”
For a moment nothing. Then priest finally broke eye contact, sighing into an armchair, his head in his hands. The lines in his face deepened, his sunken eyes and gaunt face revealing a weariness that was not present before.
“And what’s to stop you robbing this fortune in gold in the middle of the night and fleeing?”
“Fine. 500 in advance and 500 upon completion of the job.”
Another sigh.
“I’m sure I can persuade my brethren. We have already paid dearer than that, in life as well as treasure.”
“Good.” The man stood up and began walking around the room. “Now as I understand it the powers that hold your town hostage are still unknown?” He shot the priest a look, trying to glimpse any change in his expression.
The priest’s face gave nothing away.
“Yes, it is true. After a month of this infernal damnation and we’re no closer to the end of it. I suppose you’ll want to know the little information we have gathered.”
“I also need someone of experience to give me at our of the town. But that can wait until morning. I have not slept in weeks.”
This time it was the priest who raised his eyebrow. “Perhaps you have been misinformed. There is to be no going out during the day for most citizens. The only times we are able to work is during the sunrise or sunset, but even then the chill is barely tolerable.”
The man cursed, threw his hands in the air and glanced up at the clock. “Sunrise? That’s barely a few hours away!”
“Then you’d better get to bed. Time to earn your pay.” The priest answered curtly. “Mira! Show our guest to his rooms. I’m sure he’ll find them pleasant enough.”
A young boy came running from outside the door with big shining eyes.
The man turned to leave before spinning back suddenly.
“Oh, and one more thing. After the job is complete, I will be taking the boy.”
The priest was startled by this and then stood up suddenly. “Does your greed know no bounds? You have no such right to be taking anyone! Much less a member of the Church!”
“I don’t care about some runt of the litter turned serving boy. Unfortunately, in this my hands are tied” replied the man coolly. “The Council insists upon tradition. The ancient contracts of the early cleansers demanded blood for blood. The freeing of the town in exchange for a young initiate. Have no fear” the man reassured the priest, who’s eyes were by now bulging. “You will be compensated for your loss. As for the boy, he will be trained in the ways of curse purging, spiritualism and more. In time he may even come back here, a grown man and cleanser, to protect this town from any future ills. In the meantime, I’m sure your Order will cope with the loss of one choir boy.”
The man turned to leave.
“I must inform my brothers and the Church representatives of this arrangement” the priest called to him. “What name should I write on the contract?”
“Well, I don’t have a name anymore. If you insist then…..hmmm….yes, Myzak will do. Tell them Myzak of Terenae has arrived to purge your town clean.”