In front of me sat a plate of steamed vegetables and rice on flatbread. A carafe of sweet tea, unfortunately with no ice, had been placed in the center of the table. Upside down paper cups were stacked neatly beside it. Frankly, it was the best thing I’d seen in weeks. Even before everything had changed, my diet tended to come out of a microwave, or a fast-food drive-through.
“This is great,” I said. “Thank you so much for having me.”
“You’re quite welcome,” a said man wearing a clerical collar.
Tiller had introduced the priest to me as his uncle, Pastor Belk. He had been a minister at St. Matthew’s Lutheran Church, at least he had been before the events of Eldritch Night. Pastor Belk was the first I’d heard use that term to describe the upheaval that had changed our world. Apparently, it was commonly used among the survivors of Charleston. Generally, only spoken of in hushed tones.
No one used the ‘A’ word. ‘Apocalypse’ or ‘Rapture’ had become taboo. I guess the connotations were too final. If you admitted the world had ended, then what was left to do but wait? I wondered if it was the end Father Belk had imagined when he gave his sermons. Did he hold out hope for some robed messiah to set things right?
Sitting to my right was Tiller, and Pastor Belk sat on the other side of the table. To my left was a young girl with a blue dress and two puffy, gravity-defying ponytails. When I caught her staring she turned away, hiding her face.
“This is my sister,” Tiller said. “Tish, say hello to our guest, Mr. Finn.”
“Hi,” she said with a small wave, still not meeting my eyes.
“Hello, Tish,” I said. “I was wondering who was keeping Tiller in line. It’s nice to finally meet you. I love your dress.”
“Thanks,” she said hesitantly. “Is it true you’re a monster hunter, and you travel with a blue demon? My friend Mike said…” The words were a torrent, flowing together until they were almost unintelligible.
“Calm down, sweetheart,” Pastor Belk said. “Let’s say grace first. We can talk over our meal. Unless our guest objects?” The pastor turned towards me, awaiting an answer.
“Uh, no,” I said. “It sounds nice.”
Pastor Belk had us all briefly hold hands as he said grace. The simple prayer gave the meeting a sense of normalcy. I cherished that feeling, fleeting though it was.
“Please, eat,” Said Father Belk.
“Thank you, again,” I said. “Really.”
The vegetables were crisp and fresh and the bread was flaky and warm. The tea was room temperature and overly sweet, but it was exactly what I needed. It made me think of home. Home was no longer a place. That place was gone, changed. Home was a time. Time and the people who had shared it with me.
“Pastor Belk ...” I said.
“James is fine,” he said.
“Alright, James,” I continued. “You don’t know a woman named Margaret Finn, by any chance? She’s short, blonde. Goes by Maggie. She’s not Lutheran, but my mother probably would have sought out a priest if she were here.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know her,” The pastor said. “I’m not the only minister that survived, however. I wouldn’t give up hope. Is that why Jonathan brought you to me?”
“Who is…” I started before realizing who he meant. “Right, Tiller. No, but it is the thing that is on my mind the most. Thank you, anyway.”
“Uncle Jim,” Tiller said. “I was hoping you could show Finn the skill we talked about, the one from last week.”
“I’m still not comfortable with all this,” Pastor Belk said while shaking his head. “This skill… business.” He spat the word ‘skill’ pausing after as his face twisted into a frown.
“It still seems like sorcery, witchcraft, and the act of receiving power from any source outside of God doesn’t sit right with me.”
“Pastor Belk,” I said. “James. There are real demons out there. I have seen them. I’ve fought them. Whatever this system is, whatever its source of power, I do know one thing. It can help us fight the things that are truly evil. It may be the only way to stay alive.”
Pastor Belk met my eyes, his expression unreadable. He shook his head and stared down at his plate.
“I know. We’ve all seen them,” his fork fell from his grasp. “I’ve seen children literally snatched from their mother’s arms, and cars pried open like a tin can. My calling is not to fight those demons, however. Mine is to safeguard the souls of my flock. I will pray, and leave fighting the more … literal demons to others.”
“The two types of demons may not be as exclusive as you think. I’m fighting one now, it warps my memories. Infects my soul, and your skill might give me what I need to defeat it.”
“God will be our Shepperd,” Pastor Belk said. “But he gives with one hand as he takes with the other.”
The pastor sat here for a minute, picking at his food before he looked up and spoke. “All right, I’ll show you, but just you. I won’t have this affecting my family.”
“Good. Thank you,” I said. “Where can we go?”
“We have a small room over at the Port Authority building. It’s used for prayer meetings and counseling. It should be empty right now. Let’s finish our food first, how ‘bout it?”
“No complaints here,” I said.
“I’ll come with,” Tiller said, quickly backpedaling when faced with Pastor Belk’s glare. “What I meant was that I have some stuff to do back at my office. It’s on the way.”
The rest of the meal was mostly silent and a bit awkward. It reminded me of mornings spent around the family table. Vague question would be followed by noncommittal answers, everyone wanting to connect, but unsure how. We finished our meal with smiles, as we all stood and turned away.
Tish stayed behind to wash the dishes as the Pastor guided me back towards the Port Authority building. I was still faced with silent glares as I passed through the city of tents, but the outright hostility of the survivors had lessened. They still didn’t approach, but no longer made an effort to move from my path. A trail of children followed us, though they always kept at a distance.
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“Jonathan,” Pastor Belk said once we had entered the building. “Please go ahead, I need to talk to our new friend.”
“Sure,” Tiller hesitated, before giving me a pat on the shoulder and walking towards his office. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
“You wanted to talk to me alone?”
“Finn,” The Pastor placed his hands on my shoulders. “You’re little more than a child, I wanted to let you know that you are not alone.”
“Thank you, I—”
“Please, let me finish. I will be here if you need guidance, but if you want my help with this you have to promise to keep it away from my family and from my flock. These people need faith and compassion, not heroes to lead them into battle.”
“Pastor, Thank you. I really do appreciate it, and I will do my best to keep it away from your family – but you have to understand. This will find them eventually, and if we don’t meet it head on … you might not have a flock to tend to.”
“You are not a soldier, Finn, though I suppose my Jonathan is,” He leaned against the wall and sighed. Pastor Belk had seemed to have an air of strength about him. At that moment, he seemed tired. Broken.
“Just be a friend to him? He isolates himself, and I fear for what it will mean for his soul if he feels he must stand alone.”
“I’ll stand by him when the time comes, and I’ll do my best to keep this away from you … and Tish. I need your help though.”
“And you’ll have it.”
I expected pomp and ceremony, a consequence of growing up Catholic, and yet the actual blessing was a simple process. The pastor led me into the center of the room and placed his hands on my temples and began to recite from scripture. A warm feeling spread through my limbs. I felt rested as the small aches and pains I had accumulated gradually faded away.
You have been blessed! This status effect will increase your resistance to all negative ailments and effects. If a citizen is already under the effects of an ailment, being blessed will reduce the effects and duration of said ailment. Additionally, a priest can use Bless ® to drive out evil spirits, curses, and corrupting forces.
The pastor continued to recite verses as he dabbled water on my forehead. I knew that the ceremony was not needed to use the skill, but I didn’t interrupt him as he spoke, “Do not become overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
The Pastor stood in front of me not moving.
“Did it work? Can you feel it?” He asked.
“I can feel it,” I said. “Can you do it again without all the scripture? Try just focusing on the skill and saying the name.”
“Alright, I can try,” he said while placing his hand on my forehead. “May God bless you and protect you from evil.”
I felt it hit me again, stronger this time. I stumbled back as I felt a burning behind my eyes. My skin tightened and I felt a numbing tingle make its way down my limbs.
I focused on the altered memory of Liv and Troy as the soothing energy washed through my mind, seeking out the corruption. I could feel the two energies opposing each other, one a gentle, warm light and the other an icy black that carried the taste of rot.
The energy from the blessing was passive, seeking to surround and protect my memories. It sought to drive out the corruption, not by destroying, but by denying it access. It shielded me from the darkness that was slowly awakening. Yet the dark spread and began to absorb the warm light. In a battle of attrition, it was clear what the results would be.
I immediately knew how foolish this decision had been. I was playing with forces beyond my control. I hadn’t expected such a violent reaction. in hindsight, it was probably unavoidable. I might just be making things worse, I thought.
I had no choice but to continue.
The Peacekeepers would kill me, imprison me, or perhaps worse if they discovered the corruption. Letting the degradation of my mind continue was not an option, either. My only choice was to find a solution on my own, and risking my life was an acceptable cost if it meant I could be free.
I began to shake uncontrollably, my legs buckled, and my jaw clamped shut. I sank to my knees and looked up at the pastor. “Again,” I said.
Pastor Belk stepped backward, “I’m sorry," he said. "I don’t think this is working.”
“Please,” I said. I opened my eyes and tried to hide the pain by loosening the tension in my face. “It’s working, this isn’t dangerous. Just a little unpleasant.”
He must have trusted me because I soon felt a hand pressed against my forehead and the low murmur of a prayer. A flood of warmth flowed into me.
The two powers swirled around each other. I saw images of a bright white energy forming around a pitch-black ooze. Scenes of distant memory flashed briefly before my eyes, but I was unable to keep them in my mind for longer than a moment.
I could see the competing energies fighting over my mind. The darkness would invade like a virus, stabbing into uncorrupted memories. It would spread and feed, as the warm light sought to insulate and protect.
I was beginning to understand the shape of these two powers. I had theorized that my ability to learn skills relied on my own understanding. For instance, I didn’t learn system created skills from watching Catayla scouting and sneaking because I hadn’t understood the principles behind what she was doing.
If I was going to harness this energy I would need to understand the basics of how it functioned. How it was shaped.
I could feel the flavor of Pastor Belk’s faith upon the energy of the blessing, it was gentle and didn’t confront its opposition head-on. Instead, it shielded and renewed. It gave strength as it defended, never going on the offensive.
The power of corruption sought only to consume and replace, trying to strengthen itself by gaining a foothold in my mind and by absorbing the power of the blessing.
This confirmed a theory of mine. If the eldritch energy, the dark power that was corrupting my mind, could absorb and be reinforced by the power of the blessing – then they must be connected. Perhaps they were different sides of the same coin, alternate forms of the same energy.
It was like the difference between alternating and direct current. The same thing really, just in a different shape and used in different ways.
I reached out for the dark energy in the same way I had tried to manipulate my mana during my imprisonment by the spider. I hadn’t been successful then, but I was counting on my Reactive Adaptability to recognize the life or death nature of my current situation. It seemed to be most effective when I was on the verge of death.
I was only alive because I had spontaneously developed a resistance to venom. It was time for an encore.
The energy fought me and whenever I thought I had a grip on it I would lose control. It felt like water slipping through my fingers. I slowed only the smallest fraction of the energy. It was enough. The power of the blessing started to surround the eldritch energy.
Congratulations! You have learned a new skill(s). Mana Manipulation Ⓤ (0/10)
Congratulations! You have learned a new skill(s). Eldritch Manipulation Ⓐ (0/10)
This is what I was waiting for. I threw all my will into containing the eldritch energy, forming it into the simplest form I could imagine – a sphere. I compressed the ball of corruption as much as I could, allowing the golden light of the blessing to coat it. I almost immediately gained two levels of eldritch manipulation, and containing the globe of darkness became the smallest bit easier.
I poured every ounce of my being into containing the dark energy. I imagined my mind as a vice holding the sphere tightly and gradually squeezing - making the ball smaller and denser.
I tried to sever the darkness from my mind completely, but the energy had nowhere to go. I tried to push it out of my mind, but it resisted. It fought, clawing itself further into my consciousness.
I looked around, reaching out for Pastor Belk. I yelled form him to use the skill again, but he was gone. Instead, I was in a grey void. My memories swirled around me like stars, a twirling constellation that represented every moment of my life. A sphere of shadow and golden light hung over my head.
I could feel myself slowly losing control, gradually losing the battle to stay awake. In a moment of desperation, I grabbed the sphere of light and shadow and cast it into a dark corner of the constellation.
In this state, I could see the barriers and connections between my memories, and I used those connections to wall off that section of my mind. It slowly began to break away, drifting into the dark space around the constellation of memory like an iceberg falling into a cold, dark ocean.
The severed island of lost memory drifted into the void. My eyes closed.