The church of The Eye of Rendition was the first to intervene when the dust settled and night began to make its way across the Island. Men in grey robes dragging along the graveled road cleared the area; only Elizabeth and Shane were allowed to stay.

Children could be heard in the distance, wailing, sharp wails that pierced through the distractions around her. The town's guards created a barrier around the site, which was now considered holy. The corpses of many were stacking up high. A foul scent, like sulfur and rotten eggs, erupted from the mound. They were gathered in the center of town and stuck with grey wood. All received a fragment as a sign of respect. And yet, it didn't feel that way.

Whether or not they believed the sect was irrelevant was one of the many grievances the non-believers had with them. Pushing their religious practices onto others, but their complaints would fall on deaf ears. The problem stemmed from the center of the Island, Ichemound. It'd never be close to being fixed.

While the church wasn't particularly large, at least not in this area, its power rivaled any authority in that sector of the Island. Under normal circumstances, Shane and them would bump heads, but under these parameters, Shane must've felt helpless. This was their domain anyway, and the one other person he could rely on was still pondering what occurred.

Truth was she wasn't especially close to anybody in town besides her father, a fact that she'd accepted but perhaps a part regretted. Nevertheless, these people she'd never see again and because of the unsightly way they perished she might never remember. It was that fact alone that sullied any possible explanation she could come up with. Having no choice but to partake in the church's burial ritual.

Embellished by the grey wooden ornaments, Father D stood out from the crowd of worshippers. It was said that Solomon crafted a bishop's ornament, personally given after years of service and then stationed on a part of the island. If they survived the journey, they'd be worthy of service. Father D was one of the lucky few.

He was older, sickly, and frail, yet he'd been able to endure his weekly commute inside the forest regularly. The elements, any physical alignments that would've bestowed a man his age were not prevalent, his age was a complete mystery outside of the sect. Their lips were sealed and Father D was sure to make quick work of anybody that said too much. Their teachings were passed on and only the true believers could partake in the fire that was Ichemound and its all-seeing eye of Rendition, a flame of lies.

"We come here today to mourn." Father D began the ceremony, and as expected, everyone followed him.

"To the fire they were taken, to the fire they shall be reborn. Upon the gracious watch of the eye upon the gracious touch of Ichemound. With these two together shall we meet again." They clapped in unison, lowering their hands, and raising their heads towards the sky.

"Set ablaze my brothers and sisters, return to the capital, and live the rest of your lives in peace, harmony, and with our King. In the Afterlife." The pile bodies were set ablaze, finishing off whatever was left.

The tone of the ceremony changed gradually as each body was engulfed. Fathers, mothers, and orphaned children alike halted their cries and watched. Crackling flames and sparks, they listened closely.

Darkness treads along the land, driven by maleficent gusts of piercing wind. Rivers begin drawing back, afraid of the rolling black clouds that replaced the once-white sky. In a flash of light, striking from the heavens onto the ground below lightning struck in pairs of three and four, and in its final smite, it birthed an unwelcome visitor. Being washed ashore upon Ichemound domain, a man clinging to life had been given a new purpose." Elizabeth mumbled.

Shane turned and whispered, "Who are you talking to." She shook her head.

"You didn't hear the voice?"

"No, I didn't hear anything." Strange… She had assumed that everyone heard it, but knowing this changed things. If not even the church- no, they wouldn't say anything even if they did. There was no way of knowing otherwise. The best-case scenario would be to keep it low for the moment. It undoubtedly had something to do with the storm. Shane at least needed to know.

"I heard it-." No!, I can't. She thought about what he said: You never know who's watching. Especially now, she needed to be mindful, paranoid even.

"It's nothing, let's just continue with the ceremony." Hopefully, it'd end there. Father D began speaking again,

"Mourn dead as you look into the sky. As the force that has taken them was not the work of our creator but from the spawn that is forced in its ground." He looks towards the hole. Even in the night sky, it was apparent, impossible to ignore.

"Standing Leader, do you have anything to say?." They all looked to Shane, who stepped forward and kneeled. There were faint whispers in the action, but Elizabeth was more surprised than anybody. She was expected to do the same.

Bending the knee to the church, was he that distraught? Was he really that desperate? No, no, no, this isn't right.

It didn't seem real to her; she must've been dreaming, a horrible dream. An admission of defeat, pledging the town to their whim, what could be his goal besides leaving them to the monsters and letting them feast upon their flesh, She had no choice but to follow.

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Her hands and knees shook violently as every part of her rejected the action, a swell of sadness and rage in admitting submission to them and disappointment in her father's choices.

"There's little I can say as the Chieftain of Diedmons Roue. It is… difficult to admit but there wasn't anything we could have done to prevent this tragedy. And yet I believe we could have known" He shoved his fist into the dirt and continued.

"Father D, with all your wisdom and knowledge of this land, I ask your help in finding the cause and hopefully prevent this from happening again."

"A rare request." The father remarked, " Are you saying from now until an explanation is given, the church has free reign on investigation?"

"We need all the help we can get. With the herald soon to arrive I know Father that everything needs to be ready for his arrival and by extension the visitor's arrival. If this is what it takes then so be it. I don't want anyone else to die."

"You're a man of sound heart. Rare among the masses. Setting aside our past transgressions…" He took a moment to respond, gathering his thoughts alongside his confidants. After a few moments, he turned his attention back to them.

"Your daughter, she doesn't seem to share the same sentiment."

"She is young-"

"But knowledgeable is she not? I'm told she's next in line in terms of information. Perhaps she'd be of use in this investigation." She bit her tongue.

"Perhaps, but she is not of the cloth."

"Yes of course, and I doubt she'd ever choose the latter. It is a horrid choice but a choice nonetheless. But she is valuable, I cannot guarantee the herald will not show interest in her."

"Is this a threat Father?"

"Think of it as a show of trust. Keep that girl safe. His rank overrules my own. " He clapped his hands and bowed. "We accept your request, Chieftain." The last of the flame sparked its last ember and the signs of the ceremony were coming to a close.

Elizabeth was the first to stand brushing off the dirt from her pants. She looked over to Shane who was still on his knees.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyebrows, "What do you think this will accomplish?" He didn't respond.

"You think they'll help us because you kneeled because you- submit to them? Since when is involvement with the Church a good thing?"

He splayed out his fingers in the dirt, "It's done. Let's see what they accomplish." Shane sprang to his feet and faced her.

"Don't get in their way."

He turned away leaving Elizabeth alone as the moonlight began to set upon town.

The church cleared from the area and the guards slowly began letting the people through. Some were mourning, others were cold and quiet changing the moment Father D finished his prayer giving them a sort of solace in their grief. Mindless, confounding in the simplicity these people shared towards their God. She wished she could understand, maybe she wouldn't have to feel such a pit in her stomach. For the first time, there was a look In his eyes she didn't understand, it scared her almost to see it. Like a raging fire, strong but unpredictable. She held her head down in forced submission, Shane didn't waste any time and before she knew it he was gone.

She held her side, feeling queasy like the world was spinning. Trudging to a light post, she leaned against the pole and sighed shakily. As her vision began straightening out, she could make out that someone was beside her. Immediately upon exposure, she could see the white hair that, in moonlight, shone like no other. It was Schnee, and one she knew.

The Schnee were a race of long-living people all sharing their characteristic white hair and grey eyes. They were said to be the first inhabitants of the Island, some of them even told to been alive since the very beginning. Fair in complexion, impervious to the freezing temperatures Toblitche would face and above all else against the church. Their teaching was bastardized by those who came after and over time Toblitche and by extension, Ichemound had been turned.

Their history just as information of Visitors was either lost or hidden away. They were people of secrets and no one outside their own would peer into their lives any longer. Not all of them shared that sentiment, however. Rum was the exception.

She was small in frame, her skin almost transparent in the moonlight embrace, her lower half blending in with the snow beneath them.

"How unlike you." She said, pressing her finger gently on her lip.

"What do you want Rum?" Elizabeth straightened herself on the post and looked ahead.

"Oh nothing, simply visiting you is all. Figured you'd need my company, dear Elizabeth, do you have the time?."

"For what?"

"A discussion of the times of course. There's so much to talk about you know." She nudged her shoulder and tilted her head referring to the hole.

"You were here, weren't you? That's the church's job, not mine."

"Oh, they don't need to know. It'll be our little secret," She winked. "Besides, you don't seem very fond of your father's decision anyway." She kept quiet, she couldn't deny it.

"I'm sorry, maybe this was a bad time."

"No, no, it's fine. Come by my house in the morning. We can talk then." Rum smiled and nodded.

One last time she repeated, "How unlike you." Her tone was warmer than before filling Elizabeth with a lingering sadness as she disappeared into the night. She dragged herself into the forest wishing to rest even if for a moment.

She lay in her bed for several hours staring at the ceiling. Only a dim candle shined the corners of her room, a dancing flame that carried ill memories.

There was an insistent whisper in her ear each time she drifted off to sleep. Visitor… She shook her head, Malificent…, clenched her eyes shut, purpose… it wouldn't stop.

"Not going to sleep anytime soon…" she slid out of bed, the cold silk rubbing against her leg. The floor was cold, and a draft of nippy air brushed against her feet coming in the direction of the door.

From her bedside, she could feel a lingering heat, like a raging fire, far away but alive, Invisible to the eye but true. A mistakenly warming heat that mimicked any ill intent that could have been recognized forced her into a state of serenity. From within the darkness, a shape neither humanoid nor animalistic stepped into the light but only partially. Only a stem of a being that if not for the light would suffocate her with its mass and heat. It shifted away from the light seemingly afraid of being fully discovered as there was nothing to do as long as she held the candle.

"The candle!." The being screeched, "Quell it." The voice was familiar, she couldn't recall how though.

She shook her head, "No, I don't want to."

"You must it is an order."

"On whose behalf?"

"The King."

"Who's King?." She remarked

"Ours" A memory of Shane popped into her head describing a man clad in black, a raspy voice to complete the set.

"Are you the herald Jim Beckman?" It remained silent. "It is. My father told me about you but… not enough. You're a spawn of Erebus, aren't you? The deal Solomon made with him, I've read about it.

"You've read about it?"

"Yes, and I know what you're here for so if you may, would you please let me wake up."