“Keep watch and stay awake or in the dark your soul they'll take,” Oren whispered softly. The flickering light of the fire danced along the walls. The night was quiet in Vigilance, stars coating the sky in a blanket of twilight.

Max nodded. He’d heard the phrase before. Another passage from the Sagrada, the unwritten book passed down verbally in his family.

“Only a man from Vigilance could have slain a behemoth,” Oren said. “The mistake everyone makes when fighting diabolen is that they forget to guard their souls. Diabolen are primarily spiritual creatures. They need spiritual food. Our greatest weakness is failing to perceive them as they truly are. Most victims never see them coming.”

“I don’t understand,” Max said. He’d seen plenty of diabolen but never a behemoth before tonight. They were creatures to be feared. Creatures that made his skin crawl at the very sight of them.

“Most people who die at the hands of a diabolen never even see them coming,” Oren said. “One would think that a creature as large as a behemoth would be seen but that is their greatest conceit. They prey not on the weak but on the foolhardy. The stupid.”

“That’s why no one could beat them?” Max said.

“The greatest warriors failed not because of a lack of strength but because they refused to keep watch,” Oren said. “They were too proud of their previous feats. Unable to see what was right in front of them in the dead of night.”

“Our family,” Oren said. “We keep watch and not just out there but in here.” He pointed to his chest and then to his mind.

“The greatest war,” Oren continued. “Is a spiritual and mental war. The diabolen feed off the twisting of our souls.. That’s why we live by the Sagrada. The mantras we teach aren’t merely sage advice. They exist to keep us alive.”

Max recalled the litany of mantras he’d learned: Through suffering there is life while the selfish meet strife; Keep watch and stay awake or in the dark your soul they’ll take; A frequent fast makes life last.

Not all of them rhymed but those ones were easier to remember. There were others too: Keep the faith or your victory will be empty; Silence wards off many evils. Where there is faith there is means. To finish a job is sweeter than starting many.

“Defeating a diabolen,” Oren said. “Is not merely a battle of strength. Strenght is needed, yes, but more than that it takes a fortified soul to be able to see them properly and attack their weaknesses.”

“So Father could see them?” Max said.

Oren nodded. “We all can. Marian, me, Alex, you. But not perfectly.”

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Max’s eyes widened. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“Some call us Darkseers,” Oren said. “They say we’re born with the ability to see in the dark but it’s deeper than that. Most people from Vigilance can ‘see’ a little in the dark. Simply from having lived out here in the Wastes for so long their eyes are accustomed to the night.”

“What makes us different then?”

“We can see them,” Oren said. “For what they truly are.”

“Monsters?” Max said, recalling the gruesome head of the behemoth. It was a hideous ferocious sight to behold.

“No,” Oren said. “Weaklings, cowards, pests.”

Max wasn’t sure what to say to that. The behemoth didn’t look like a weak pest to him.

“In time you’ll understand,” Oren said. “Diabolen aren’t all they’re chalked up to be. They rule the fight through fear and cunning. The bigger they are the more fear. Sure, they’re strong but they’re not unbeatable.”

“Is there more than that?” Max said. He scratched his head. Surely his father was more than just overconfident.

“There is,” Oren said. “We can see them in the dark better than anyone else can. We can spot their weaknesses. And most of all, we don’t fear them.”

Max wasn’t sure that fully applied to him. He certainly feared the diabolen.

“With practice,” Oren said. “And enough hunts you’ll find you can see in the dark better than most.”

Max stood silently, his eyes flitting out the window to test his sight.

“We also live by the Sagrada,” Oren said. “Like I said, it’s more than just good advice. We live by basic truths and meditate on them daily. This is our way.”

Max pondered the point. “The way the town reacted to that behemoth,” he said. “It was like it was dividing us.”

Oren paused. “Perhaps your sight is stronger than I thought,” he said. It’s a spiritual creature. That spirit is nearly drained but not completely.”

“Are you saying it’s alive?” Max said.

“No,” Oren said. “It’s a shadow of what it was before.”

“The way the Mayor almost incited a town riot against father,” Max said. “You held your ground and so did Mother.” Max, for that matter, also came to the defense of his father’s reputation.

“Exactly,” Oren said. “Perhaps the creature is more alive than I had thought, to incite such division. You are your father’s son.”

“I think then,” Max said. “The diabolen can seep into our emotions.”

“Yes,” Oren said. “Exactly. And more than that - our minds, thoughts, and sentiments. They are creatures of the dark and blind men who believe they are merely physical threats are easy targets. The proudest warriors are like blind men brandishing a large ax against them..”

Max nodded, beginning to understand. “How does the Sagrada protect us?”

“It may protect us,” Oren said. “If we are vigilant and prudent. If we follow its precepts, we are less likely to lose our sight in the darkness. We are less likely to fall prey to our emotions. It’s like building a house of brick on solid rock. The teachings in the Sagrada keep us grounded on firm foundation. Others build their house on sand, or worse, water. They are swept away by the faintest storm.”

“Or diabolen,” Max said.

“Or diabolen,” Oren said. “But be careful. The Sagrada doesn’t make anyone invincible. All it does is give us a leg up. We aren’t as easily influenced by the creatures because our minds and emotions are fortified. We also aren’t fooled by them so we can see them more clearly than others, and know them to be what they truly are.”

“Weak,” Max said.

“Exactly,” Oren said. “But neither do we underestimate them. We see them for what they truly are. Speaking of which, we need to address your point about the beast’s head.”

“What?” Max asked.

“For the behemoth’s head to have had that level of influence,” Oren said. “It must be more alive than I had previously thought.“

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