“Justice and judgment are the habitation of thy throne: mercy and truth shall go before thy face.”
–Father Abraham, “The Holy Word”. 14 Months After.
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Their world was getting uncomfortably larger.
Life was simpler back at the bayou. They had a bountiful, fertile land, plenty of space to accommodate their congregation, and ample protection, from sinners and heretics alike – Praise be for His blessings. With the patrols that the Inquisitors had formed over the years, not even the Devil himself could have marched into their Beholder camp without a fight.
This land was different. Steep, cold, and littered with the ruins of God’s judgment. The very air tasted of a bile that had long since been forgotten as if to obscure the words of the Lord above. This whole pilgrimage was complicated from the start and only became more so by the day. Why was the Father so insistent that this trek be done?
Brother Ezekiel preferred simple. As he crossed back into camp with his Inquisitors in tow, he wished for nothing other than to turn around and go back home.
The defenses held firm, at least. They had been on the move for months and learned how best to balance speed with protection. Palisades could be erected and dismantled at a moment’s notice, tents packed, and horses shepherded onward. What had once taken more than a day could now be performed in mere hours after so much practice, and every Beholder knew their roles by heart. The Lord truly shined on them.
Ezekiel passed by the cattle farm. Their limbs were becoming lean after so much time moving about, and he could see the subtle rise and fall of their chests with each passing breath. The air was alive with their scent, a sweet mix of sweat and manure that was all too familiar. His mouth watered as his eyes wandered…
But Ezekiel was quick to bury the thought. Hunger was born from Sin like every other mortal fault, and he would never survive the Beholding and join the Lord above should he succumb to such temptation.
Just need to wait for Communion, Ezekiel reminded himself. Once embraced again by the love of the Lord with his Brothers and Sisters, this vile Hunger would be easier to combat. Their Holy Communion served this function to great effect. They all drank from milk blessed by the Friars, and their spirits grew stronger because of it.
He traced the camp to keep his mind busy. Tents popped up around the valley they had chosen as refuge, their fabric composed of a plain white cotton where they weren’t held together by lacquered wooden shoots. Temporary workshops had been built in a similar fashion, though they lacked the uniformity of what they’d constructed in the bayou. By uprooting themselves from their farming duties, many Brothers and Sisters had taken new jobs.
The other congregants dispersed wherever the Inquisitors drew near. Some murmured from a distance, doing their best to avoid locking eyes with Ezekiel as he walked by. He would have to observe the camp with fresh eyes once his meeting concluded. Too long on their own would make many drift into Sin enough to warrant a proper Inquisition.
That will have to wait for now, Ezekiel considered as he reached the tabernacle, a great tent that spanned enough space to hold their entire congregation at a time, with sconces burning bright along the edges. This was the most divine vestige of their camp. The Lord was able to follow them through this place, wherever they went. His Holy Word was kept and maintained here, and it was here where their leader would be waiting. In the back, beyond the veil where others keep watch, and into the Holiest of places.
Not even the prophets of old had built such glory under God.
Father Abraham spoke with Brother Aaron and the other Friars upon Ezekiel’s entrance, the rest of his Inquisitors waiting behind. The air tasted of incense and jasmine as he drew near.
“Ah,” Father Abraham said with a smile, “it would appear that you were correct, Brother Aaron. The Lord has hastened the return of your Brothers, after all.”
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Brother Ezekiel fell to one knee. “Praise be, Father.”
“Come here, my son.”
Like the rest of the Beholders, Abraham did not appear as much more than an ordinary man, at first glance. His clothes were black and plain below his white collar, his stature was on the shorter side, and his thinned brown hair was combed over otherwise gaunt cheeks. Many looked upon his form and considered him to be no more than another able-bodied worker around camp.
But then they would look into his eyes as Ezekiel did now and see the full power of God. He had blessed upon Father Abraham a strength against Sin that no one could match, and his bright, violet eyes were a testament to this fact. A lilac devotion that had no greater or equal in this world. Such was the strength of the Lord, and Father Abraham was His messenger.
He smiled wide, warm and inviting. “I see that you have returned to us in good health, Ezekiel, but you appear to be short a few Brothers.”
“And they lack the unsullied man God tasked them to find,” Brother Aaron pointed out.
Ezekiel grimaced. This was going to hurt. “We lost Brothers Amos, Hiram, Caleb, and Russell when he led them into the Chosen One’s home. There was some kind of contraption in place with mechanical turrets that we did not foresee. We also lost Brother Lucas to an explosion they placed, and then Brothers Samuel and Cain fell soon after. Their bodies were too damaged from the blast, so they succumbed to Sin before we could return.” He frowned. “I put them down myself.”
“So much loss,” Father Abraham said, his eyes revealing nothing. “But what is this ‘they’ that you speak of? Was Liam Fenix not alone as prophesied?”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself…” He went on from there, describing the bunker they had entered, and the technology that still functioned, and the traps that had been laid, and the life that was being lived, all buried beneath a sea of sinners that would have put the trials of antiquity to shame. Ezekiel had followed the Holy Word and pushed through each obstacle, but it was what lay at the end that troubled his heart so strongly.
Or rather, who else was there.
“An unsullied woman, you say?” Brother Aaron asked, astonished.
“Not just a woman,” Ezekiel continued, keeping his eyes locked on Father Abraham. “There was a child too. A baby girl, untouched by Sin. By the Holy Word, I saw her for myself.”
“That cannot be possible,” Aaron hissed. “The text is clear. He will return to us, and Him alone!”
“I know what I saw.”
“Perhaps your time away has made you forget whom you’re beholden to, Brother Ezekiel. Perhaps the Devil has thrown a veil that has obscured your sight. That would explain why you failed in your task.”
Ezekiel grit his teeth. The two were supposed to be equals under God. Brother Aaron led the Friars and interpreted the Holy Word for the masses, but Ezekiel was tasked with leading Inquisitions whenever anyone went astray. Both were needed to ensure that Sin did not flourish in their camp, but too often, Aaron behaved as though he were the superior, with his beating red eyes and nose that he always pointed up so as to look down on whomever he spoke to. This audacity had grown with the size of their congregation, even bordering heresy at times…
“Enough,” Abraham said with a wave of his hand. “Let us not question the testimony of Brother Ezekiel, nor his faith in our cause.” He tilted his head. “Perhaps he speaks true, and it was your hubris that formed an incorrect interpretation, Brother Aaron.”
Aaron’s eyes widened at the implication. A smirk broke Ezekiel’s lips before he could bury it, but it disappeared the moment he looked back to Father Abraham.
His face remained blank. “As for you, Brother Ezekiel, there is no denying the failure of your mission. You did not acquire Liam Fenix as you were told, you lost Brothers along the way, and even with this greater discovery of a woman and child, you let them all get away. This was not just our defeat but one for God as well.”
He bowed deeper. “You are correct, Father, but I promise that they are not lost forever. We investigated the bunker thoroughly and discovered tire tracks where their footprints ended. First, going north and eventually cutting west. With enough time, I could determine the exact route.”
“Do not forget the Word, Brother Ezekiel. ‘For ye shall not go out with haste, nor go by flight: for the Lord will go before you.’ We will deliberate your words with His and determine the next suitable action. You, on the other hand, should have your own deliberation.”
“Whatever task God requires, I will perform.”
A smile again formed across his thin lips. “Then look to the color of your cloak and know the answer He has provided.”
Ezekiel knew at once. Repentance. Where the majority of Beholders wore white to symbolize the purity they hoped to gain in heaven, and the Friars wore brown for the downtrodden they wished to share the Holy Word with, the Inquisitors were clad in all black. Such was the color of repentance, for it was their duty, above all else, to force God’s divine repentance whenever Sin was found.
“I understand,” Brother Ezekiel said before making his leave.
No one was above God’s judgment. No one.