✽✽✽
Be wary of the Candelux priests. They are your greatest enemy, the voice faded in and out.
The sun set as Erynion, the demon, observed Dulo closely. It appeared as though the beggar was conversing with the demon, while in reality, he was only talking to himself. Sometimes Dulo would stop and wait for a response, to which Erynion would respond with any phrase to appease the poor man. While Dulo chatted nonsensically to himself, the demon contemplated how he could complete his purpose. How could he seek the Brotherhood when he couldn't speak the language? The thought perplexed him.
As the last rays of sunlight dwindled in the distance, Dulo lit a broken lantern hanging on the wall. Erynion barely noticed how the flame did a poor job illuminating the area as a high-pitched ringing caused him to wince. He closed his left eye, but the sound persisted. Panic set in as he recalled a similar feeling from the previous night. If the pain was going to come again, he needed help to stop it. The demon had listened to the beggar's ramblings for long enough, and his company wasn't helping.
As Erynion got up to leave, Dulo slid in front of him. "Hey, where you going?"
"Duredar bed njja fut."
"Oh, um, want to go together?"
"Zjja venu zited aknitjja." Erynion held up his hand since he knew the beggar didn't really understand him. His fingers tensed as his nails grew into talons.
Dulo's eyes widened. "Whoa, how did you do that?"
Erynion flipped his hand over. "Onto djja. Njjas dugatons titaba."
"Hmm. I might be able to help. Where did you say you were going?"
"Duredar bed njja fut. Rejjis revoa dinjja."
"Oh, I know where that is. Why didn't you say so earlier? But we really shouldn't leave here. Bad things can come out in the dark, especially outside the city. I should know. And you're still hurt from last night."
As Dulo rambled on, the ringing in the demon's ears grew worse. Erynion found it hard to concentrate on the beggar's words, not that they really mattered. The pain grew steadily, and he fell onto one knee. The agony was still bearable, but he knew what was coming. He placed his right hand on the ground for support. The sight of the claw distressed him. No, it wasn't true. He was human.
Dulo crouched beside the demon. "Hey, what's wrong? See, I knew you were still hurt. Let me help. Tell me what to do."
Erynion could only grit his teeth as the memories of the last night seeped into his mind.
The pain you feel is connected to your strength. If you don't use it, it builds up and hurts you.
He eyed Dulo like a predator stalking its prey. The beggar shuddered, then ran screaming down the alley for help. The agony was becoming more painful, yet still manageable. Erynion knelt alone for some time. For how long, he had no clue. Had he really been abandoned to suffer through all this again? Distant footsteps of a small group drew closer. He stood up to leave, but they were already upon him.
"I brought help!" Dulo exclaimed.
Next to the beggar stood four people. One wore a brown robe and black scarf while two others wore regular clothing with brown scarves. The fourth wore no scarf and spoke first.
"Wait a second. I remember him."
"What do you mean you remember him?" asked the woman in the brown robe.
"He came in through the north gate."
"You're telling me you knowingly let a demon into the city?"
"Of course not. He was completely human earlier. Or, at least he appeared to be."
"But you sense the darkness now, don't you?"
"Yes, there's definitely something there, and it's growing. Something isn't right."
As if needles were gently poking at his mind, the demon spoke Kisejjad through his teeth. "Are you with the Brotherhood?"
The woman wearing the brown robe stepped forward. "No, we are not."
An image of Don Skully flickered in his memories. "You're like the other one. You're a priest."
"That's right. I'm with Candelux. What's your name?"
The demon cradled his head in his hand. "Erynion. Who are you?"
"Don Yatiga. What is your purpose here?"
"Leave me be." He didn't want to talk to her. Candelux priests were, after all, his enemy. Erynion closed his eyes as the pain worsened. The conversation continued without him.
"Well, he speaks Kisejjad, so he's definitely a demon. You really didn't see this energy earlier? Not at all?"
"No."
"Was he speaking normally before too?"
"I don't know. He never had the chance to speak before the idiot brought him in."
"He has no clue what kind of danger he's had in his company."
"His physical form seems to indicate he's probably an iymed, even though he doesn't appear all that powerful."
"Powerful enough to suffer from the agony. Look at him struggle, holding his head. The signs are there."
"So, what do we do?"
"We need to make sure he's not a threat to the city. Help me put him in a prism, just like I taught you."
Feet shuffled through the dirt, and when Erynion opened his eye, Don Yatiga was standing over him. The demon barely saw her face in the faint light of the lantern hanging in the corner of the alley.
Erynion snarled.
Yatiga didn't retreat, and her voice was calm. "It hurts, doesn't it? It'll only get worse."
"Can you stop it?"
"Yes." Yatiga redirected her gaze. "Gheron. Benedoli."
Three voices began to chant, but the demon wasn't listening to the words. The voice in his head had cautioned him about Candelux, but the prospect of losing the pain forced him to ignore the warning. A yellow triangle glowed on the ground beneath Erynion. A flash of light blinded him, and when the demon was able to see again, he was trapped inside a prism of energy.
The radiant prison of light put Dulo's lantern to shame. The demon clearly saw the priest's face. "I still feel the pain."
"And you will continue to if you don't answer my questions," Yatiga said. "In order to help you, we need to know a few things. Understand?"
The demon barely nodded as he fought through the torment to listen to her words.
"Erynion. Is that a real name?"
"Real enough," he muttered.
"Knowing your name will greatly help us in stopping your pain."
"I don't remember."
"What about your past life?"
"I don't know."
"Where were you from?"
"I can't remember any of that!" Erynion glared at the priest through the wall of light. As the agony struck again, his body tensed. The demon grabbed his head and dug his nails into his skull.
"Then what do you remember?" Yatiga asked.
His jaw was clamped shut, and he sucked the air through his teeth. "My purpose. That's all I know."
"And what is your purpose?"
Bells clanged loudly in the distance. Erynion ignored them.
"We're under attack?" Yatiga stooped so she was at the same eye level as the demon. "What do you know of this?"
"Nothing." Erynion felt the blood drip down his hands.
"Don Yatiga," one of the others interrupted. "What should we do?"
"Focus, Gheron. The others will deal with the attack. We'll join them when we're done here. You two just get ready to cleanse."
"Yes, Don."
"Looks like we're out of time, Erynion," Yatiga said. "Tell us your purpose and we'll take away your pain."
"You claim to help, but the agony only grows worse." The demon reached for her, but as his claw hit the barrier, he withdrew it immediately. The sting of fire enveloped his finger.
The priest rose to her feet. "Whatever Verago has planned, he will fail. You tell him that when you see him."
Erynion stretched his arm toward the barrier again, but this time he pushed his hand through with little effort. He cringed as the flesh around his wrist burned. His arm quivered, but he held it firmly in the light. The agony's growth stagnated, and the demon stood up inside the cag
e of light. He took cleansing breaths, but the agony refused to recede.
"Don?" the woman in the brown scarf called out. "Don?" she repeated when the priest gave no answer.
"Move away! Now!" Yatiga instructed.
The group retreated outside the demon's range. Erynion stepped halfway into the barrier and stopped. The light seared everything it touched, and black wisps of smoke floated from his skin. But instead of crying out, the demon smiled. The mental anguish was fading, and his mind was experiencing a much needed reprieve.
"I have to thank you," Erynion said. "This feels wonderful compared to what was in my head. And since you finally helped me, I will answer your question."
In the glow of the prism spell, the demon saw the fear written on the priest's face. However, Yatiga stood her ground. "My question?"
"My purpose. I am here to kill King Batar."
Chapter 7
The Seductress
Millan slipped out of the guardhouse where his patient was left in the care of the healer. The watcher numbers had grown dramatically, and the majority of the invaders around the gate had already been dispersed. As the large metal door was pushed shut, the Candelux ranks took their cue and restrained or imprisoned the remaining demons. Millan moved forward to help, but a screech from behind stopped him in his tracks. A stray imp, poised atop the guardhouse, flew at him. Millan reflexively swatted at the demon and made contact with its ribs. The imp sailed through the air, kicking up dust as it landed. The Nesinu priest promptly rattled off the prayer for the Blessing of the Holy Prism. A triangle lit up under the fiend and light rose around him. Off to the side, there was a loud thud, followed by a cheer from the fighters in the area. The front gate to the city was finally slammed closed. Their efforts could now shift toward cleansing the invaders.
As Millan focused on the fray demon he had imprisoned, he thought back to his lessons with Don Skully. He had been taught how important it was to cleanse demons when given the chance. Physically killing a demon simply returned them to the Depths, an underground network of caverns that the Devil called home. On the other hand, a cleansing ritual would purify the demon's soul, preventing it from ever being infected by dark energy again. Unfortunately, though cleansed, those souls were still bound to Verago. And so, their fate would be to remain in the Depths forever, never to return to the Surface, a term which comprised anything aboveground.
Millan quietly chanted. The demon launched himself forward to break through the blessing, but he was too weak and ricocheted back into the prison of light. The spell steadily shrank and restricted the movement of the captive. The little demon shrieked as the light wrapped around him, conforming to his body and freezing him in place like a statue.
Millan held his hand over the fray's chest. "By the power of the angels. Let the holy light free your soul from the darkness, so that it may be pure and incorruptible."
The demon's heart ignited as the holy energy dissolved the source of its power.
"Be at peace!"
The blessing faded away, and the demon slumped to the ground. Its body melted into the dirt, and its soul was sent back to the Depths indefinitely.
"Don Millan! That was great!"
The young priest spotted the squire from Nesinu. "Tyro, you're out here too?"
"Yeah. Turns out I know a lot for a second-year."
Millan noticed a nearby Nolka priest was having some difficulty restraining a greater fray. The fray, less intelligent than their iymed brethren, came in all sizes. The larger ones were just as thoughtless as the smaller ones, but their size made them physically stronger and more formidable.
"Come on. Let's go help him," Millan said. "Replace his divine restraints."
The squire summoned a chain of light that burst out of the ground and wrapped tightly around the wrist of the greater fray. As the slack was removed, the beast was pulled to one side. Millan took his position on the opposite side and mirrored the blessing. His holy chains caught the other wrist and forced the greater fray to his knees.
"Thank you." The Nolka priest released his own restraint spell and held his hand over the demon's chest. The large fray thrashed about to no avail, and soon the demon shared the same fate as his impish comrade.
With the area free of enemies, Millan patted Tyro on the shoulder. "Not bad."
"Gather up!" Archdon Feranis waved the priests over. "We may have cleared the gate, but many of these fray have escaped into the city. We need to get the Blessing of Marked Defense up to prevent further harm. We'll be doing a group incantation to protect the entire city."
The archdon put his back to the gate and placed his staff on the ground. The priests, including Millan, stood in an arc behind Feranis. With outstretched arms, they prepared to recite the group blessing.
"By the light!" Feranis shouted.
"By the angels!" the priests answered.
"We call upon all that is holy to consecrate the marked."
"May the light be a beacon of hope."
"To protect those within."
"May the angels guard them with fortitude and honor."
"And to repel the evil that infects our land."
"May the demons be cast into oblivion."
Millan felt the energy surge within his body. He had never used so much of his power in such a short span. And though it tired him, he also found it warm and soothing. The energy flowed from him naturally.
"Grant this Blessing of Marked Defense," the archdon concluded. The city lit up as the homes marked with a four-pointed star, the symbol of Candelux, became protected from the fray demon attack.
The watcher captain sheathed her sword as she approached Feranis. Lufira offered a polite nod. "Thank you, Your Grace. This should make it easier for us to clear out the stragglers."
Save a few left to guard the gate, the watchers scattered into the city. The priests began to socialize, congratulating one another on a job well done. This was the first time in years that demons had attacked the city, and spirits were high. The celebration was short-lived, though. A sharp whistle penetrated the night air, and one of the Nolka priests pointed to a rooftop. "Up there!"
On a nearby building, a lone figure stood with his arms folded across his chest. A hood rested loosely atop his head and a cloth mask hid most of his face. The light from the streets illuminated him just enough to make out his tightly wrapped clothing, which peeked out from under the long cloak. Based on his attire, he appeared to belong to Anoctis, the infamous guild of thieves and assassins, but his voice betrayed him.
"Nemlit nejj dnezil djjel!" The demon extended his arms outward. "Nasujj kesken aud etjjav nilara ujja!"
"Get him!" Feranis exclaimed.
Streaks of light whizzed through the air toward the demon. The target dodged the attacks and bolted toward the center of the city. As the archdon picked up his staff, the priests and squires sprinted past him in pursuit. They tried to close the gap to the demon, but its movements along the rooftop were too quick.
Tyro ran alongside Millan. "My Kisejjad is still rusty. Did he say execution?"
"It certainly sounded like it."
At the town square, the group found their assassin-dressed adversary standing at the top of the fountain. Around him, outside the retaining wall that enclosed the angel statue, were five citizens on their knees, bound hand and foot. Beside each person was a demon, distorted and mangled. An outer circle of fray encompassed the group at the fountain and acted as a barrier between the priests and the residents. Despite manifesting in all forms, the fray were always more repulsive than the iymed. Verago never spent much time on aesthetics for his lowest-ranked soldiers, which resulted in misplaced bones and organs. As long as they could wreak havoc, they were good enough.
The iymed raised his hands high into the air. "Stay back! Any closer and they die."
Millan saw no other choice but to obey. He was politely pushed aside by Feranis as the archdon made his way to the front of the group.
The demon threw back his cl
oak. "Welcome to this special performance!"
Feranis subtly gave orders to the priests near him. "On my command, we need Blessings of Holy Prism around the hostages."
"You all are just in time for the beginning of the end. You may call me Reaper. I will be your host this evening." The iymed gave an exaggerated bow. Millan found the theatrics odd for such a morbid event.
Archdon Feranis took a step forward, and the demon yelled, "Come no farther, pig!"
The archdon complied. "You have your audience, demon. There's no need to harm the innocents. Say what you must before I return you to your master."
"The old pig is deaf. You clearly wish me to cut down your friends. Call me Reaper."
"I will call you no such thing. If you'd like to offer your real name, then that would be another story."
The iymed sneered. "Do you believe this to be a game? Do as I say, or I kill the fat one."
The overweight Nolka captive cowered as the fray beside him inched closer.
The archdon relented. "Fine. Reaper. What do you want in exchange for the release of the hostages?"
The demon was silent and motionless on the head of the angel statue. A breeze wafted his cloak ever so gently.
Time slipped away in silence until the archdon spoke again. "Are you as deaf as I? What are your terms?"
Reaper grinned deviously. "I have none."
"Prisms! Now!" Feranis hollered. The blessings manifested around the hostages and knocked back the fray. The executioners struck at the barriers but failed to break through. The archdon lifted his staff. The four-pointed star glowed brilliantly and blinded the demons around the fountain. Feranis swung the staff across his body, and the path of the star made an arc of light that flew toward the enemy and cut through the entire group of fray. Some of the demons were incapacitated, but most were killed instantly.
Feranis reached for the iymed on the angel statue. "Blessing of Divine Restraint!"
Chains of light shot from his hand and hurtled at the demon. Reaper sprang backward and threw off his cloak to cover his trail. The blessing pierced the fabric and chased after the demon. While midair, Reaper put both hands behind his head and pulled forth a scythe. As the light chains were upon him, he swung his weapon down and deflected them away.
The Twisted Gate Page 5