You’re never alone so long as God loves you, he reminded himself. Ezekiel hobbled onward, ignoring the damage that the sinners delivered to his limbs. When the light of day came and the others succumbed to sleep, he would take time to meditate in the light of the Lord. His grace would help close these wounds.
Clouds shifted above, sealing away the light and leaving a moonless sky. Ezekiel hated when it became like this. Though the Lord still aided his vision even in the darkest of environments, the lack of illumination twisted this once beautiful landscape into something more sinister. Colors and forms diluted without the sun, leaving only a dull, grey wasteland. A far cry from the tapestry that the Lord had woven for them.
Why must the world have come to this? Brother Ezekiel was eternally grateful for the blessings the Lord had given him – of course he was – but he could not help but wonder what else could have been. Had mankind lived with more devotion and penitence, would the Beholding have ever come to pass? Would they have been able to keep their souls intact?
Ezekiel rubbed his scalp, his fingers tracing the tattoo that ran along its length in the shape of a crown of thorns. He had never known the origin of this design. Not since facing judgment. It had predated the Beholding, back when his soul was free from Sin.
The Lord’s lessons truly were fickle. Brother Ezekiel would never know what had compelled him to make such an alteration on his flesh. Had he considered himself one of God’s Chosen Ones? Or had he merely done so as an homage to the suffering inflicted for his benefit? The crown of thorns was indeed a sign of the Almighty, but it also stood as a reminder of the burdens one may take. Of pain, of suffering, of humiliation, of death. All for the benefit of the downtrodden. Could that have been the path that he had originally walked? Had he been a righteous and penitent man before?
Ezekiel once again pried the depths of his memory for answers, only to find nothing in return but the vacuous hole that had always been there.
He exhaled and kept moving. The past no longer mattered. Only the future remained. Only through following God’s will would the seven bowls of judgment be poured and the Beholding brought to an end, ushering forth a gilded age for the Lord’s children.
Then maybe, just maybe, he would be united with his old life yet again.
More time passed as Ezekiel continued in silence, with the Chosen One on his back and Liam tied behind. His captive’s movement slackened occasionally, but a firm yank kept him on the path.
Brother Ezekiel blinked through the grey miasma of this elongated night and drew his last bottle of cream, still locked tight in the dark-tinted bottle to ensure it would last. As much as he knew this needed to be rationed, with the blood leaking from his wounds, it would not do to let his spirit slacken. He popped the lid and had a gulp. Already, he felt more at ease.
His carrier shifted, and the Chosen One began to whimper.
What is it this time? “Be calm, child,” Ezekiel ordered.
Liam took a few steps closer. “She’s hungry.”
“Again?”
“Yes, Ezekiel. As I’ve told you before, we eat more than you do.”
He grunted. For whatever could be said about his own body’s needs, Leah and her father seemed to consume more by a factor of five. The supplies that Liam brought were already dwindling, and Brother Ezekiel had no clue where to find suitable replacements.
The bottle of cream still lay in hand. He supposed that would have to do. Ezekiel unzipped the carrier and started to lean back.
Only for the cream to get knocked from his hands. He stared dumbstruck as the bottle shattered against the ground. Liam towered above, his brown eyes ablaze.
“Are you out of your mind!?” he snapped.
Ezekiel blinked. “What are you talking about? That was for her!”
“Let’s just ignore the fact that you’ve been carrying that bottle of milk around for well over a week at room temperature. Yeah, we’ll pretend that doesn’t matter to a child’s health… You put your mouth on that fucking thing. Do you honestly expect me to allow my daughter to share a bottle with someone who’s been infected with the most deadly contagion that this world has ever seen?”
“The Lord will protect her. She has been Chosen.”
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His cheeks reddened. “No, he won’t, you bloody moron! Get that through your thick skull already. Her health isn’t being protected by your imaginary friend, okay?”
This heresy was too much. “Do not insult the Lord’s name like that!”
“Or what? You’ll kill me too? The way I see it, you’ll do that soon enough as is!”
“What do you know of God’s power!?” Ezekiel scowled. “Only through His grace have you been allowed to live, uncorrupted by Sin. This does not make you free from shame. Or has this gift brought you so much hubris that you believe yourself to be above His judgment?”
He stood, unfazed. “I don’t care about him or you. The only thing I care about in this world is the girl on your back and ensuring she remains in good health.”
“Then trust in His guidance!”
“Only if you trust in mine. You want to see Leah brought back to your friends? That won’t happen if you refuse to listen to what I have to say.” Liam grinned. “Or maybe you’re the one who’s too full of hubris. I’m one of God’s chosen too, yeah?”
Ezekiel mashed his teeth together, an eyelid quivering. How he wanted nothing more than to purge this heresy and be done with it. Just as he had done so many times before.
But perhaps Liam did not speak in error. Brother Ezekiel closed his eyes. Whether Liam understood the folly of his words, his love for his daughter remained authentic, as did Ezekiel’s desire to see her live. That much was true for them both.
As much as Brother Ezekiel hated to admit it, there was only so much for him to do now that his fellow Inquisitors had fallen. He did not understand this foreign land or how to navigate its dangers, their supplies were low, and the nature of the Chosen remained obscured to him. Could the small act of gifting her his food have permanently corrupted Leah’s flawless vessel? As difficult as it was to fathom, he could not deny his own ignorance when faced with such divinity reincarnated.
“What do you suggest I do,” Ezekiel asked.
Liam sighed. “If you’re not going to allow me to walk free or carry my daughter, then the least you can do is give her what I tell her.”
“Okay. Then what do you believe she needs?”
He frowned. “I wish I knew what type of medicine would bring down her fever, mate. I really do. But Evelyn’s the doctor, not me. The best I can think of is to give her plenty of hydration and rest. Maybe an elderflower tea if we happen upon some out here.”
“We can’t stop. The Devil will find us.”
“Then don’t. All I’m asking is that you be more gentle with her. She’s a baby girl, not a piece of luggage to hoist over your back.”
Ezekiel stared into the carrier and considered the proposition. The Chosen One’s soft eyes looked into his, and his tongue salivated as he gazed back. Such an immaculate form. The epitome of perfection in human form! She truly was God’s gift to man. Whom was he to deny Leah the peace she craved?
“His will be done,” Ezekiel said. “What else?”
Liam smiled. “She needs water. I’ve just about run out. It can’t come from a still source though. That is a breeding ground for bacteria. Any flowing water will do, so long as we boil it first to ensure there’s no Hollowing. And I mean thoroughly.”
Brother Ezekiel peered throughout the forest. Greys slithered around blacks, and he caught sight of movement between rocks, perhaps half a mile away.
“There’s a creek over,” Ezekiel said, raising his finger. “Would that be an acceptable source?”
He nodded. “I’ll need to check the color and taste it first to make sure there isn’t any toxic or mineral contamination, but if you give me a fire to work with, I’ll have everything I need to keep her safe.”
Ezekiel studied the creek. It was to the northeast. Traveling there would slow down progress, but if that helped keep Leah’s spirit well, then he supposed that there would be no other way. Nothing came above the Lord’s desires, and she was His current incarnation.
Without saying a word, Brother Ezekiel turned and began the sluggish walk over. Liam trotted behind, now content that the journey had gone his way.
The detour ended quicker than he expected. Liam had a fire built, and their water source was purified and cooled within the hour, using a metal bowl to speed up the process. Leah suckled from his canteen once finished, her tiny throat expanding and contracting with each gulp.
“Time to move,” Ezekiel said once satisfied.
“What’s the rush?” Liam asked with a yawn. “By my count, your kind have all the time in the world.”
If only that were still true. “Just move.”
He once again secured his prisoner in place, put the Chosen One back into her carrier, and marched through the forest. A distant light gleamed on the horizon, reminding Ezekiel of how much time had been lost.
His hand graced the empty spot in his cloak where he had kept his bottle of cream. It had been ordained through Holy Communion by Father Abraham himself before they left, infused with the power of the Lord to stave off sinful thoughts for as long as needed. Beholders did not consume flesh like their heretical enemies, so without this elixir for support, all Brother Ezekiel had at his disposal was his copy of the Holy Word, and he was far from versed in deciphering its infinite interpretations, unlike the Friars.
Whether Liam could contemplate the severity of his actions or not, the moment he shattered that bottle, a door opened that could only complicate their journey further. A hole now formed at the base of his mind.
Ezekiel’s soul was again vulnerable to Sin.