Sunlight covered all in sight.
There was no escaping it. After the congregation had left the mountains and traversed these empty plains, less and less cover remained available to them. The trees were no taller than Ezekiel, and a dusty expanse enveloped all in front. Shrubs bitterly clung to the sands beneath, with no water to bring them succor.
The congregation continued their pilgrimage through this desert. As Moses once had with the Israelites, the Father assured them, but Ezekiel felt this akin to the expulsion of Adam and Eve. Their bayou might as well have been Eden when compared to here. Though the strength of the Lord’s light aided them on their journey, their cattle could not handle such strain. Many had to be killed as their limbs failed within this wasteland, and their Brothers and Sisters struggled against the Sin that their exposed blood produced.
Communion was becoming a challenge as well. Consumption of flesh was heresy for the Beholders, so they relied on produced milk alone. The Friars ordained this process to form the Holy Communion that their Brothers and Sisters relied on to keep their spirits from becoming vulnerable to Sin. With so many cattle harmed during this journey, less milk could be produced, which meant less Holy Communions were performed. How much longer could this pace be sustained?
A few more weeks, maybe. But Father Abraham held his head high as he marched onward, his sight piercing through the shifting horizon to lands not yet seen.
If only everyone could share in his faith.
Brother Ezekiel closed in, his long-range crossbow in hand. “We should consider making camp again, Father.”
He chuckled. “On a day so fine? Now, what would compel you to think that we should?”
“We’re vulnerable right now. The Inquisitors are too busy helping transport supplies, and only a handful of my Brothers still keep watch. There’s no telling what lies beyond those hills. Or whom.”
“Oh, my son. Such cynicism. Do you not see the progress we make? Why, those mountains were once so very small, and now, they could be no further than a day away.”
Ezekiel studied the terrain in front and swallowed the bile in his throat.
An act that did not go unnoticed by the Father. He raised an eyebrow. “The more we advance our pilgrimage, the more disquieted you have become, Ezekiel. What is it that troubles your heart so?”
“We’re drawing too close to the Unholy City.”
“Is this not our intention?” Brother Aaron called out from behind, with a troupe of his Friars hauling a cart with him.
When did he get there? “Our intention is to find the Chosen One and return home.”
“And yet, by your own admission, our path brings us there.”
“No,” Ezekiel corrected. “Our path brings us near. Those tracks took us west. We know little more than that.”
Father Abraham hmph’d. “Is that so, Ezekiel? Do you believe your Brothers would lead us this way on little more than a hunch?”
He blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“The Inquisitors are not our only source of intelligence,” Brother Aaron said, angling his nose so as to look down on him. “The Friars have been conducting our own investigation.”
Now, this was unexpected. “Explain.”
He continued with a sigh. “As you know, when this pilgrimage first began, many of your Brothers were sent out on tasks of their own. Brothers Philip, Nathaniel, Uriel, Mateo, and Reuben. Each took charge of a small group to distant lands. Have you not wondered about this purpose?”
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“They were sent to scout other likely places where Liam Fenix could be found,” Ezekiel considered.
“Untrue! They were sent out to locations where heretics gather in the hopes that the Lord’s message could reach new ears.”
“What!? Our Brothers were sent to the Unholy City? Do you not know the risk!?” He looked to Abraham. “Were you aware of this foolishness?”
The Father merely glanced his way, his lilac eyes cutting deep. “I was the one who ordered it. Do you not remember this discussion, Ezekiel? Has your soul become vulnerable to Sin again?”
Ezekiel quivered under the revelation. He had no memory of such a conversation, but if the Father declared it so, then his spirit was more shattered from his failures than he first realized. The Father could not be in error. Not about such matters.
Repentance would have to come soon.
He frowned. “I seem to have forgotten, Father.”
“Then let me remind you of these divine truths. We all have roles to play in this congregation, Ezekiel. Yours is to lead Inquisitions to ensure the faith is kept, while the Friars must interpret and spread the Word for all to hear. That is for all. Even heretics. As we marched across the land and the Inquisitors sought out Liam Fenix, many Friars dispatched themselves to find others willing to listen. We cannot forget how close we are. When the seven bowls of judgment are poured, and the Beholding is resolved, none but the purest of heart will be saved.”
“The Lord truly blessed the Father for his foresight,” Aaron filled in. “Nathaniel and Uriel have spent months in the Unholy City now, and their reports have worked their way back to us. Within days of your failed attempt at capturing the Chosen One, vehicles matching your description worked their way back there. An odd coincidence, do you not agree?”
Father Abraham grinned wide. “It is the Lord’s plan that guides us onward. Where the Inquisitors fell blinded, the Friars gained new sight. One could not have happened without the other, and that is only because we have changed our ways. No longer can we hide in our swamp over fears of the evils beyond. As the Beholding grows in strength, so to must our world diverge into something new. That is His will. Or, in the case of you and many of your Inquisitor Brothers, Ezekiel, does your world converge.”
“You were once a member of the Unholy City, were you not?” Aaron asked.
Ezekiel grunted. He did not like being reminded. “That was a long time ago.”
“And yet, you quake at the mere thought of seeing those walls again. Does this place bring a temptation you seek to forget?”
He sighed. “It is not that, Brother. My concern is where it has always been, with the safety and purity of our congregation. You have always been shielded from what the heretics can bring, while I have done what I can to combat them so we were never found.
“To that end, the Hunters that have crossed our path are mere gnats compared to the demons within that city. They have thousands of soldiers in their ranks, armor-plated tanks, automatic rifles, guided missiles. A false god of death leads them, bearing the name of Hades. He is a fierce warrior with a heart of the Devil, and would have no qualms about destroying us all on sight.” He thought back to his lesson with Jericho, along with the paradoxical nature that the Lord’s tests often bring. “To go against him directly would be suicidal.”
More than that, they would be undoing everything that had been built. Father Abraham cultivated a vast and powerful congregation, to be certain, but their ranks were still a bubble in an ocean compared to what the Devil could bring. The Unholy City was the capital to Sin itself. A profaned monument that stood against all that they believed. Could it be true that the Chosen One went there? Would the Lord really send them to breach a wall so impregnable?
But Brother Aaron only smirked. “What if I told you that your god of death has fallen?”
“Hm?”
“The heretics have continued their barbarism in your absence, Ezekiel, only to have one dictator be replaced by another. Their new ruler is a queen who covers her face in red cloth to hide the Mark of the Beast that the Lord scarred her with, and it is said that she consumes her subjects for sustenance, much like him.” He stared forth, his red eyes twinkling. “Do you cower in terror to the weaker sex as well?”
“She is the Whore of Babylon,” Father Abraham echoed. “The text of the Holy Word continues to align with our journey, and this is only further proof of our place in the Beholding.”
Ezekiel walked on in silence. His instincts told him to agree with his Brother, but something hid within those words. A memory. Distant, fleeting, obscured by his rebirth, and the Sin that came before. But it was there. Whispering in the back of his mind.
Could it be her that rules this land now? Brother Ezekiel halted. The others stopped soon after, seeing his resolve suddenly shift.
He cleared his throat. “If what you say is true, Brother Aaron, our fears have only been compounded. The Lord may have liberated my soul from those heretical days, but there are some memories that still bleed through. Just as I can handle a gun without being trained, so too do I recall this sense. Hades was a powerful warrior, but he had never been the greatest. There has always been one more deadly.
“And she is not to be underestimated.”